Of Monsters and Madness (7 page)

Remembering the distasteful kippers from this morning, I lift the bowl carefully to my nose. The red things smell sweet. “What are they?”

“Cherries. Try one. You’ll like them.”

Placing the cherry on my tongue, I almost swallow it whole before she laughs and stops me. “Not the green stem, miss. An’ mind the pits inside.”

I remove the stem and bite down, pulling out the pit. A bit of juice splashes onto my wrist and I hastily wipe it away as a sharp burst of tart sweetness fills my mouth. Maddy is right—I
do
like them. I eat several more, and glance out the window. Remembering the lantern that flared ever so briefly last night, I look farther down into the courtyard. There are bushes cut into strange shapes, and I can see the door where the figure with the burlap sack had been standing.

“Would it be possible for us to take a walk around the courtyard?” I say impulsively. “It’s still daylight, and I have not yet explored the grounds.”

“I’m not needed in the kitchen until dinnertime,” Maddy admits. “An’ since it’s not dark yet, we should be just fine.”

Her words give me pause. “Is it not safe to walk in the courtyard at night? I thought that’s why Father has Jasper and Thomas walking the perimeter?”

“Us servants don’t go out at night is all I meant, miss,” she says. But she will not meet my eyes. Then just as suddenly, her grin returns. “Cook made her famous cherry jam this afternoon. It’s the best thing you ever tasted. An’ I know where she keeps it. I can gather some biscuits an’ put it all in a basket to take
with us.” Her smile turns bashful. “That is, if you would want to, miss.”

“A picnic! That sounds lovely, Maddy.”

Leaving my medical book behind, I follow her down to the kitchen. Something sugary-sweet fills the air, and I stop and inhale deeply as Maddy gathers biscuits and cherry jam from the larder. The scent reminds me of
pa-tong-goh
. Another wave of homesickness washes over me.

“It’s taffy, miss,” Cook says, noticing I’ve stopped in my tracks. Both of her hands are plunged deep into a bowl on the table.

“What’s taffy?”

“A bit a molasses, some butter, an’ sugar. You heat it all up, then roll it out flat. As it cools, you grease yer hands, then pull it apart with ev’rything you’ve got. They’re the Master’s fav’rite.” With a nod of her head, she gestures to a tray filled with golden-brown lumps. “Go ahead an’ take a couple. They’re ready.”

I reach for the taffies, but Maddy waves something at me. “Waxed paper. Use this so they don’t stick together.”

I take the paper and wrap each one up tightly, then thank Cook and hand them over to Maddy. She puts
them into the basket and leads me to a door that takes us outside. We step into a walled courtyard where the grass is lush and neatly manicured. The bushes are cut into the shapes of animals, and in the middle of the courtyard is a pond filled with orange-and-white fish.

I follow Maddy to a bench beside the pond as she points out different animals along the way. There are lions, horses, and something with small horns called a stag. We lay out the biscuits and jam between us, and our conversation slows while we eat. She seems as content to indulge in her thoughts as I am in mine. It’s only when I hear a soft snore coming from her that I realize she isn’t merely lost in her thoughts. Her head has drifted to one side, and her eyes are closed. She’s sleeping.

Carefully placing the cloth that held the biscuits and jam back into the basket, I get to my feet. She looks so peaceful. I don’t want to wake her.

We haven’t eaten the taffies yet, so I put one in my pocket and leave the other two behind. Taking quiet steps over to the pond, I sit on a large rock beside it, and swirl my hand along the water’s surface. I’m concentrating so hard on trying to touch one of the fish that I miss the sound of the kitchen door opening and
closing. It isn’t until a shadow falls over me that I realize I’m not alone.

“I hope you’re not planning on taking another swim,” Mr. Poe says. “I don’t think that water is deep enough for you to need rescuing again.”

He cuts a dashing figure in a dark brown overcoat with a leather satchel tucked under one arm, and I suddenly have to grip the stone on which I’m sitting so I won’t lose my balance. I try to remember the correct way to stand, as Mrs. Tusk instructed me.
Head held high. Arms at my side. Feet slightly turned out. A gentle but not too friendly smile upon my face
.

I get to my feet and offer him my hand. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, Mr. Poe. What a fortunate circumstance.”

He clasps my fingers briefly. “Certainly much drier circumstances than when we last met.”

“That is true.” Glancing away, I remember Mrs. Tusk’s proper topics of conversation, but I can’t seem to recall what those topics were.
What if I say the wrong thing?

“Would you care to take a walk around the courtyard?” Mr. Poe asks, looking over at Maddy. “Since your chaperone is here, we’re within the confines of propriety.”

“Doesn’t it matter that she’s sleeping?”

He gives me a wicked smile and offers his arm. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. Desperately wishing that I had not taken off the gloves Madame LaFleur lent me, I tuck my fingers into the crook of his elbow so he won’t see my rough hands. We walk to the far end of the courtyard.

“I trust you were not put off by our conversation in the carriage yesterday,” he says. “Are you enjoying your new home?”

“It’s quite different from Siam,” I admit. “I hope it will not take very long for me to adjust.” I glance up at him shyly. “And I must say, I’m very glad my father has men to walk the grounds for our protection. I saw one of them from my window last night.”

“You did?” Mr. Poe looks at me curiously.

“Yes. Though I could not be certain who it was.”

“Then how can you be certain it was someone walking the grounds for your protection? We
are
very close to Pennsylvania Hospital.” He lowers his voice. “It might have been an escaped mental patient hoping to meet the esteemed Annabel Lee of whom we have all heard so much.”

I gasp and pull away from him slightly.

“Forgive me,” he says. That wicked grin returns. “I am a cad who could not resist the opportunity to tease you. You have no need to fear anything of the sort.”

I cannot stop myself from returning his smile. “You gave me such a fright! Besides, I saw by the glow of a lantern …” My voice dies off as I recall exactly
what
it was I saw last night. Someone was dragging a burlap bag as if it were very heavy. What could have been inside?

“Saw by the glow of a lantern …?” he prompts me.

“Jasper or Thomas walking the grounds,” I finish. “I could not be certain
which
one it was, but I am certain it was one of them.”

He studies me for a moment., the expression on his face deeply focused. Just as I have decided that he must be able to tell I’m holding something back, his face clears. “I’m sure that Philadelphia is as different from Siam as night is from day, but you haven’t yet had the chance to see all that Philadelphia has to offer. Beautiful gardens, historic buildings, notable citizens. When I have a free moment from my work, I shall arrange a tour.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Though I’m
intrigued by the mention of his work, I try to make it appear as if my interest is in nothing more than the flowers we are passing. “Do you work with my father every day?”

“Every day. Every night. At times, it almost feels as if I live here.”

My heart speeds up at the thought of running into Mr. Poe in the halls. “Are you helping him with his most recent project?”

He nods. “I am.”

“What kind of work does my father do?”

“He has … scientific interests. It’s all very complicated and quite boring, I assure you.”

The sun shifts overhead and disappears behind a cloud. I shiver involuntarily. Mr. Poe notices and immediately withdraws his arm from mine. “You’re cold.” He takes off his overcoat. “Allow me?”

Waiting for my nod, he places the coat around my shoulders. His hands pause and our eyes meet. My cheeks grow warm and I turn my head, purposefully looking at the gardens. “The roses are quite beautiful. I wonder what kind they are.”

He pulls back from me and offers his arm once again. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I don’t spend much
time in the gardens. All of my free time is spent on my—”

He stops and looks away.

I wait for him to continue. When he does not, I say, “Surely you cannot mention something so intriguing, and then not finish telling me what it is you are working on?”

“My apologies.” He dips his head. “It’s not something I speak of very often. What little free time I have is spent working on stories and attending poetry readings. I am a writer.”

“You are?” I turn to look at him more fully. It’s no wonder his voice is so delightful. He has experience reading aloud, as I thought. “Have you been published?”

“Not yet. Though I’m working on a book of poetry. It is to be called
Tamerlane and Other Poems
.”

“What a beautiful title. Does it have special meaning? I’ve never heard of a Tamerlane.”

“It’s the name of the hero in one of my poems. A warrior who lost his greatest love.”

“There’s nothing sadder than a tragedy. I, too, like to write. But only in my journal. I wouldn’t have the courage to consider writing for publication. You’re
very brave, Mr. Poe. I do hope one day I shall have the chance to read your book.”

He stares deeply at me. I did not notice before that his left eyebrow has a slight scar above it. “I hope you shall, too.”

A sudden clattering disrupts us, and we both turn to see Maddy sitting up. She’s knocked over the picnic basket in her sleep, and the noise must have awoken her. She scans the courtyard, alarmed, until she catches sight of me, then hurries to join us. “There you are, miss. I thought you were—”

She’s suddenly cut off by the sound of the kitchen door opening. Jasper and a large, rough-looking man step out from behind it.

“This here’s the courtyard,” Jasper says to the man. “We walk the perimeter at ten o’clock in the evenings.”

I glance over at Maddy. “Who is that?” I whisper.

“Never seen him before.” Her voice is as quiet as mine. “There was talk this morning that the Grandmaster might bring in another person to walk the grounds on account of the most recent murder. But I don’t know him.”

Jasper glances our way and then doffs his hat. “Miss,” he calls out. “Master Allan.” They move closer,
and Mr. Poe takes a step forward, placing himself in front of Maddy and me.

When they come to a stop, Jasper gives us a brief bow, but the man beside him does not. His clothes are worn and dirty, obviously not well kept, and his eyes dart back and forth nervously. “This is Brahm,” Jasper says. “He’s been hired to walk the grounds.”

Brahm shifts his weight from foot to foot, seeming only to grow more nervous by the second. He mumbles something that I can’t quite catch.

After a brief moment of silence, Mr. Poe says, “We should return to the house. The air is growing cooler as night approaches. I would not want either of the ladies to catch cold.”

Jasper nods, replacing his hat as we turn away, and Maddy walks by my side. We stop by the bench to pick up our picnic basket. “I don’t like him,” she mutters, casting a glance back at Jasper and Brahm. “Something doesn’t sit right.”

I feel bad for the new night watchman. Perhaps he is merely as unaccustomed to his unfamiliar surroundings as I am. “If Grand-père hired him, then he must be a trustworthy person. Is that not so?”

She only shakes her head, and casts him another grim look.

We return to the kitchen, and just as we’re about to step inside, I realize I’m still wearing Mr. Poe’s coat. I remove it and give it back to him. “Thank you for the lovely walk and the use of your jacket. It was very kind of you.”

“It seems it is my duty to save you from the elements, Miss Lee. First the water, and now the wind.”

I blush at his words. Remembering the taffy in my pocket, I offer it to him along with my hand in good-bye. “For you, Mr. Poe,” I whisper.

“Please, call me Allan.” Bending low, he kisses my hand and takes the taffy. “Until next time.”

I can barely find my voice. No one has ever kissed my hand before. I stare up at him, suddenly glad that I have come to this strange, new place.

“Until next time … Allan.”

Six