The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons (10 page)

Finally she whirled about, facing me, and pointed a finger barely inches from my nose, an action so uncharacteristic that it stopped me there, dumbfounded.

“Ye can just stop yer followin' me room to room!” she sputtered. “It's best t' give me some time t' cool off, it is! I don't disagree that you've been unfairly and grievously treated. But when ye draw me into yer schemin' without me knowledge, and ye use me trust and concern for ye t' allow such wild carryin' on such as I've never seen, well … ye
can't expect me t' be pleased about it, now can ye?”

She spun back around and stalked off down the hallway. Being taken off guard as I was, I opened my mouth and shut it several times, unable to find the words to respond. I skulked sheepishly after her, groping for something that might make her understand.

“But Addie, listen to me, please,” I began. “It was the mail truck—the RFD—that I saw coming along the shore road. Don't you see, the postman may have left a letter from Aunt Prudence! If Uncle Victor had gotten there first …”

I swallowed back my tears at these words, for he had in fact gotten there, if not first, then certainly in time to spoil my plan.

“Don't you see, when I asked you to distract them, it was because I
had
to get to the box first!”

Addie rested the laundry basket on her hip and turned to face me again. “Well, will ye look at what came of it? Foolishly trustin' ye, I flung your mother's fine china down the stairs, what with thinkin' it was a matter o' life and death—that's how ye put it, if mem'ry serves me! And then, ye climb out a winda like some kind of a wild monkey and put up a chase in yer bloomers, fer heaven's sake!”

“But Addie,” I began, remembering how my bedroom door had refused to budge, how the
magical mist and Father's flute had led me to the window. How could I make her see that, at the time, it had seemed my only choice?

“I would've gone down the stairs and out the front way,” I pleaded, “but the door to my room was stuck tight!”

“Oh, I see,” said Addie, reaching out and opening my bedroom door with little more than the push of her finger. “So, this is the door 'twas stuck tight, was it?”

“Addie,
please
!” I crumbled down to the floor, my tearstained face in my hands, knees drawn up to my chin. I heard her sigh, watched her rest the basket of linens on the floor beside her. She knelt down and ran her hand across my hair.

Sighing again, giving up her anger, she pulled me gently to my feet and led me to my room. We sat together on the edge of the bed. I couldn't hope to explain everything to her, after all. How could I?

“Listen, darlin',” she said, her voice softer than before, “it's not that I blame you fer what you've done. Your Addie knows your heart is in the right place. And, Lucy, if you ever let yourself get wrapped up in these kinds of shenanigans, ye know I'll always take your side. But if it happens again, he'll have me sent away, d'ye realize that?”

“He can't,” I said. “Father's will said—”

“Oh no, darlin', he can. If he can prove that I'm not doing my job, then he can have the court reconsider and send me off. And then what will become of ye, will you tell me that?”

She was right, of course. I hadn't allowed myself to think about that.

“But,” I ventured, “if we don't find Aunt Prudence, we'll be stuck with them forever!”

Addie rubbed my back with her strong hands.

“Oh, go on now,” she said softly. “Ye think yer old auntie would go off forever and never return? Of course not! We just have to wait, is all. We have to bide our time.”

I let her comfort me, rocking back and forth beneath her touch, feeling the stonelike tension slowly drain away.

“Addie,” I whispered, “do you believe in such a thing as a family curse?”

She froze, and her hands on my back stiffened. A shadow crept across her face, and her eyes shifted nervously.

“Where would ye get such a notion? Nonsense.” She shook her head, as if to convince herself or to frighten off the thought. “There's no such thing as a curse, I say.” Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands firmly on my shoulders. “Let's get back to the business at hand,” she said. “Next time ye have an
idea, ye tell me first. Do ye realize that if you'd told me about the mail wagon, I could've slipped out the back door with the gatherin' basket and been down to the box in a minute flat? We'd have had those letters tucked under the summer squash and the string beans, and yer uncle Victor would've been none the wiser. Do ye hear what I'm tellin' ye?”

I nodded slowly, realizing that my Addie was not as upset that I'd done the things I did as much as she was upset that I had jeopardized her place in my life. I threw my arms around her and let her hug me tight. Then she held me away at arm's length and looked me over.

“The captain would've been proud of yer spunk, miss,” she said. She nodded and stood. “I have work to do. I'll try t' sneak ye a dinner tray later on.”

She was gone in an instant, and I felt the first hint of relief I'd felt all day.

I was banished to my room, without so much as a book for entertainment, and the afternoon crawled. Day turned to evening, and Addie did manage to smuggle me a spot of tea and my favorite finger sandwiches of cold cheese and cucumbers. Later, I slept rather fitfully, this being the first night since the accident that my friend Mr. Pugsley hadn't shared my bed. Where had the woman taken him, I wondered, and did he miss me as well?

I passed the next several days in front of my window, searching the coast for any hint of Mr. Pugsley and the woman. I became more and more concerned, for there was nary a sign of them whatsoever, which caused me to think she'd disappeared with him for good.

Finally I was allowed back downstairs for meals. We were seated, all of us quite stiff and silent, around the dining room table. Addie was serving a cool summer soup and a platter of cold sliced meats and potato salad when we were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. My heart began to thump, as I continually hoped that news would surface regarding my aunt. Uncle Victor, perhaps thinking the same thing, raised an eyebrow, a dark cloud passing across his face.

“I'll get the door, then,” said Addie, placing the platter on the table and turning on her heel. The food sat where it was as our eyes followed her to the entrance hall.

It was a woman's voice we heard, and Uncle Victor relaxed somewhat. Addie returned to the dining room, looking rather pale, it seemed to me.

“There's a lady here to see ye, sir,” she began. “A Miss Maude, I believe she said. Says she runs a boardin' school for young ladies. Shall I send her away?”

My uncle Victor's eyebrows shot up, his eyes shining brightly, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“By all means
not
,” he said, rising from the table. “Take the lunch away for now, Addie. We'll return to this later.” He stood, swiped at his mouth with his napkin, and smoothed his shirt. “Well, don't leave our guest standing in the doorway like a common street vendor! Bring her into the parlor and then clear the table.” He snapped his fingers at Addie, who immediately turned back toward the door.

“You,” he whispered, pointing at me. “Tidy your hair! Gather yourself up! You are to wait here while I speak with Miss Maude. I'll call you when we're ready for you.” He paused, shook a finger at me, and went on, his voice lowered. “Let me remind you that you had better try and behave like a lady and make a good impression!” He nodded impatiently at Aunt Margaret, who rather reluctantly removed her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table.

I followed them as they exited, as far as the dining room door, which my uncle slid closed behind him, just inches from my nose. I stood there, my ear pressed to the door, horrified. A boarding school? Was he going to send me away?

I heard the rustle of the woman's skirts brush the floor as Addie ushered her in, heard the sweet
gush of my uncle's voice greeting her, leading her into the parlor, which was situated on the opposite side of the entrance hall.

I didn't dare slide back the dining room door even a smidgen, for fear of detection—especially in light of my recent carryings-on. I could certainly not risk another infraction. Instead I placed one of Mother's cut glass water tumblers against the door, the open end up against the wood as a kind of amplifier, the flat end against my ear. The result was a blurry kind of amplification that enabled me to at least follow snippets of their conversation.

After greetings were exchanged, the woman—who was, as far as I could tell, the headmistress—offered a description of her school. I strained to collect each word, or at least enough to piece together her meaning.

“… responding to your request for a governess … displayed on the town bulletin board....”

I gasped—a governess? What about Addie?

“… Miss Maude's School of Etiquette … a finishing school for spirited young ladies … fine manners, homemaking skills … deportment and character refinement.”

Uncle Victor immediately warmed to this line of thinking. His voice was louder, clearer than the rest.

“I absolutely agree with you,” he boomed. “My niece underwent quite a distressing experience this past spring; perhaps you've heard?”

The woman must have mumbled a negative response, for Uncle Victor launched into his version of the accident.

“Out in a small skiff, the three of them—my brother, his wife, and Lucille. Now, I must tell you, in strictest confidence, of course, madam, that my brother was never one to exercise good judgment.”

I was already seething, and the urge to burst through the door to correct him was almost more than I could bear. That, and the fact that he'd put out a summons for a governess! The only thing that held me back was the fact that an unruly outburst on my part would serve to validate my uncle's lies. I clenched my teeth, took a deep breath, and continued to listen.

“Rather than bring her in out of the storm, he capsized trying to rescue a local drunkard who had stranded himself out there on the water.”

“Really?” the headmistress replied. “And I'm sure … a detrimental effect on the child.”

“Well,” said my uncle, in a tone that suggested he was letting the woman in on a secret, “the reality of the matter is that the girl has had to face the fact that her own father sacrificed the family in order
to try and prove himself a hero—and as all self-serving plans tend to do, this one failed miserably.”

“And the girl, your niece,” said the schoolmistress. “How has she fared since the accident?”

“Not well, I'm afraid,” said Uncle Victor, and then, as if his words might jeopardize his chances of shipping me off, he amended them. “Although, in an environment where there is more discipline, away from reminders of the past, where she could be in the company of other young women of her station, I believe she could turn things around rather nicely.”

Perhaps the woman nodded, or murmured her agreement, and Uncle Victor strode toward the hallway, the sound of his approaching footsteps sending me back from the door, the glass hidden in the folds of my skirt.

“Addie,” he called, in an unusually pleasant tone, “Addie, bring in the tea tray, would you? Miss Maude, have you had your lunch?”

She must have nodded. “Tea and scones, then, Addie,” he called, and his steps took him back into the parlor.

I resumed my eavesdropping.

“A summer term, of course,” she was saying, “could start as soon as tomorrow.”

The opposite door swung open, the one that connected the kitchen to the dining room. I jumped
at the sound, the glass slipping from my hand. It was only Addie, and I managed to catch the glass by lifting my skirts as a safety net.

“Ye keep liftin' those skirts and showin' your bloomers, and you'll be livin' at Miss Maude's School full-time,” said Addie as she moved to the sideboard for the silver tea service.

I patted the folds of my skirts in place.

“Addie,” I said, quite near tears at this point.

She came over to me. “Don't ye worry, lass,” she whispered. “Barrister Hardy will need t' hear about this before any decision is made. It seems t' me that if yer in Miss Maude's care, then perhaps your aunt and uncle's duties will no longer be needed. This could be our way of getting rid of 'em for good!”

That was a new and novel thought. I could go off to Miss Maude's horrid school for a bit, Uncle Victor and Aunt Margaret would leave, and then I could return home!

“But Addie,” I asked, “what about you?”

“'Tis not me that's important in all this. It's your welfare that matters. Besides, y'know I'd never leave ye!”

“But if they make you go too …”

“Not now,” Addie whispered. “We'll figure it all out. Let me serve up the tea.”

She took the tray into the kitchen, and as I
leaned against the door again it slid open, sending me sprawling on my face, the glass clattering to the floor.