Shadows

IX

Bright morning sunshine beaming through my bedroom window awoke me the following morning. I sat up and stretched, wishing for a better day than the previous one. Outside my door, I heard Grayson whistling on his way to breakfast. I hurriedly dressed and caught up with him on the stairs.

"Good morning, star shine," my brother exclaimed cheerfully. He kissed my cheek lightly and smiled pleasantly.

"Good morning," I returned, slipping my arm through his elbow. "I hope the Plumbs enjoy sleeping until late afternoon."

"Me too." Gray nodded and continued to whistle.

Loud voices permeating from the dining room drew us up short. Exchanging worried glances, we entered to find the Plumbs hovering over the sideboard. Instead of selecting plates to bring their meal to the table, they ate directly from the chafing dishes.

Papa's place remained empty. His newspaper lay folded at its usual place, along with his coffee cup and napkin. Usually, he ate his breakfast punctually.

As Grayson and I hovered in the doorway, we noticed Horace cram an entire sausage into his gaping mouth. Copying her brother, Despina pushed one between her lips and chewed noisily. Charlotte poked a kidney with her fork while Bertha shoveled up scrambled eggs. I felt my stomach turn upside down.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Priscilla, Mr. Grayson," Yates whispered, appearing behind us. "Your father is dining on the garden patio this morning. He wishes you to join him."

"Thank you, Yates," I answered, squeezing his arm with gratitude. "Is Joel with him?"

"No, Miss, Mr. Joel is nursing a sore head," the butler responded. "He accompanied Mr. Horace to the Three Horseshoes last evening. They stayed out quite late and came home singing. I am surprised you didn't hear them."

Gray and I exchanged worried glances. Joel rarely drank and did not frequent public houses. Horace was leading him astray rather quickly.

"We'd best join, Father," I commented, hurrying away. Grayson followed at my heels. However, as we passed through the foyer, the rest of the Plumb family arrived.

"Where's my daughter?" a rough voice called out bellicosely.

My brother and I nearly came face-to-face with a squat, balding man. His shabby coat barely stretched around his protruding belly. Beside him stood a wispy, thin woman wearing a faded calico dress. She clutched a worn handbag in calloused hands.

Quickly, Grayson and I dodged toward the French doors, hoping to avoid them. However, we were not fast enough.

"You there," the voice shouted; a bent finger pointed in our direction. "Where is Charlotte Plumb? Her father wants to know."

"In the dining room," Gray answered, pointing the way. He took me by the arm and led me away.

Stepping outside, I took a deep breath of fresh, clean air. The Plumb family stifled me and made me feel dirty. I shivered despite the warm June sunshine. Papa sat at a white wrought iron table, and we approached him swiftly. As soon as we sat, Yates appeared with plates of eggs and sausage.

"Good morning, Papa," I greeted, smiling warmly. "It's a lovely day to eat al fresco."

"Indeed," my father agreed, lifting his coffee cup.

"Pardon me," a small voice interrupted our breakfast. "I've lost my way. I'm looking for my mum and dad."

A young girl around eleven or twelve stood before us, wringing her hands. Her yellow ringlets fell to her shoulders, with a straw hat perched on her head. Wide blue ribbons hung over the brim's back. Smiling shyly, she shuffled feet encased in scuffed kid boots. I warmed to her instantly.

"And who are you?" Papa inquired softly.

"Cassandra," the child responded, casting her eyes downward. "Cassandra Plumb."

Charlotte's younger sister's appearance differed from the rest of the family. Her small nose turned up pertly at the end, and her blue eyes looked like calm pond water. Soft-spoken and shy, she hovered near the breakfast table and inched to my side. When she came close enough, I wrapped my arm around her waist. She pressed into my embrace.

"I had to use the water closet," she stated demurely. "When I came out, Mum and Dad were gone."

"They went to breakfast with the rest of your family," I explained, offering the child a seat. "You're welcome to join us. We're eating al fresco this morning."

"They'll worry over me." The child hesitated but eyed our morning fare ravenously. "I should find them."

"Nonsense," Papa announced, summoning Yates. "You'll see them soon enough. Eat your breakfast out here with us. You know we'll soon become your family, don't you?"

"Lottie is getting married," Cassandra announced proudly. "That's why we've come here,"

"She's marrying our brother, Joel," Grayson added, pouring a glass of milk for the child. "Here are your eggs now."

Cassandra sat in the chair Yates pulled out for her and lifted her knife and fork. She cut her sausage daintily and ate it with small bites. I thought how different she was from the rest of the family as I watched her butter a slice of toast.

"So this is where you've gotten off to," Mrs. Plumb chastised, sauntering briskly toward the garden patio. When she arrived, she grasped her daughter by the arm and yanked her to her feet. "We were worried sick, we were."

"I got lost, Mum," Cassandra excused herself. "These nice people offered me breakfast."

"Well, you've had it, haven't you?" The mother shook her child by the arm. "Trust you to decide you're too la-de-da for the rest of us. Now, march." She prodded Cassandra's back with her opened palm, urging her toward the house.

"Begging your pardon, Madam," Papa stated, rising. "Would you mind telling us who you are and why you mistreat this child?"

"Yes, I would mind," the woman shrilled, turning toward our father. "As you'd have it, I'm Ursula Plumb. My daughter, Charlotte, is about to marry the high and mighty's son, Sir Joel something or other."

Papa's face grew scarlet with rage. Seething, he began to sputter uncontrollably. I stared at him in awe, then rose to hand him a glass of water.

"Mind your tongue, Mrs.," Yates broke in quickly. "You happen to address Sir Joel Everstow."

Nonplussed, Mrs. Plumb stared at Papa for a moment, then Yates. Swiftly grabbing Cassandra by the elbow, she marched toward the French doors. They disappeared inside the house.

"Well," Papa remarked, regaining his seat.

"Well is right," Grayson muttered, his face pale. His hand trembled when he poured another cup of tea.

Silently, we sat around the table, sipping the calming beverage. However, none of us felt the effects of the soothing tea. Every time the Plumb family appeared, we became shaken by their uncouth antics.

"Whatever's the matter with Joel?" I muttered out loud. "Doesn't he realize? Doesn't he see how vulgar they are?"

"He's in love, Priscilla, my dear," Papa stated, sinking back into his chair. "Unfortunately, he doesn't see anything at the moment. All he sees is Charlotte Plumb."

"Indeed, there is not much to see there," I remarked sharply.

"Indeed," Grayson echoed.

"Hmmm...yes...indeed," Papa added.