Roses and Dreams: A Collection of Short Fantasy Stories

The Guardian Angel's Valentine

William sensed something was wrong the moment Selah brought the blasted thing home.

Lanky fur with bald pink patches, the creature was shorter than Selah's knee and had all the charm of curdled milk. Beady, suspicious black eyes stared from behind its straggly mop of straw-like yellow tangled mess. It clutched Selah's leg, its claws digging into her tights that Selah wore to school, along with a skirt that was far too short and a shirt that would make William blush back then.

"What is that?" William said in disgust. Selah couldn't hear him, although she was much more tuned in to his presence and could tell he wasn't pleased.

"I found him out in the streets." Selah smiled down and patted its head. William would have wanted to wash his hands; no, he wouldn't touch the filthy thing to begin with. "I felt sorry for him and I figured it'll be nice to have company -- not that you aren't, Angel, but it's nice to have another face, isn't it?"

William heartily disagreed, eyeing the creature with mistrust. It stared back at him, almost as if it could see him. He'd heard of these creatures before. His footman had claimed these creatures were behind the buckling of the horse carriage when the wheel came loose. The Westburys five miles away said they saw similar furry creatures tinkering with their machinery. William had just assumed it was the women's hysteria and overactive imagination.

But here was one of those things -- gremlins -- exactly as the picture books had depicted them, staring at him in the face: ugly, skinny, humanoid.

It could not be good news.

As if to prove his point, the thing nuzzled Selah's leg and glared up at him. William scowled. This thing would become a threat to Selah and his precious home. What if it played with the gas cooker? What if it set the house alight now that it was wired with electricity? It needed to go, even if it would upset Selah.

Selah was talking to him again. She took out yesterday's wilting Delphinium from his altar and her mother's altar and replaced them with fresh ones, their bright violet petals vibrant against the ash chest of drawers.

"...Valentine's day soon. I don't know if you know much about it--" Selah, to this day, still treated William as if he were an alien from one of her books. "--but it's a day when people confess or celebrate their love. Dad always gets me some flowers and a card, but it would be nice if I could get a gift from a boy! Maybe I ought to say something first."

Ah, she wanted a suitor. And a Valentine's greeting. William had been surprised she'd never had a suitor yet. It seemed the tradition of courting had changed; Mr. Montmorency hadn't taken Selah to social gatherings or brought over suitors even when she reached fifteen. Certainly Selah hadn't mentioned members of the opposite sex until quite recently so it was unlikely she'd gone out alone and been courted -- he shuddered at the thought of innocent Selah being alone in the company of strange men. Time might have changed, but it was still improper. And to profess affection, as a girl? That was a preposterous thought. William wasn't even sure if he'd be comfortable if a young man asked Mr. Montmorency's permission to court Selah.

"It's a shame it's an all girls' school though." She sighed and flopped onto her bed. William tactfully averted his eyes when her skirt rose too high again. "Maybe one day I can leave this place and meet a boy. I can't wait until university."

The gremlin leapt onto her bed. William bristled. The thing tugged at Selah's unruly curls, tied in a plait. William wanted to slap it away. Selah only giggled and rubbed its head.

"Hey, maybe you can be my present!"

William wondered what he could get her. She'd spoken of many things, but most were related to her precious books. She was not a girl who liked pretty lace or fancy clothes; she dressed like someone who would muck out the stable. She paid little heed to her appearance despite having beautiful porcelain skin and vibrant thick red hair. He would have liked to get her a book, but he doubted he had the focus or strength to move a book to her room from the library in the annex.