Sky Pirates

Chapter 8

"Children!" Miss Canton called from one of the many manor doors. She clanked an old bell like the schoolmarm she'd once been. "Children!"

Cole and Mildred jostled together along the path as they race-walked to the house.

"Slow down," she reprimanded.

"Stop poking me, you cad," squealed Mildred to her brother as they entered the dining room.

"Mildred! Don't use that vulgar word." Loraine looked around to be certain none of the servants had heard.

As the children took their places at the table, the serving girls arrived with trays of cooked meats and roasted vegetables. Cole heaped food on his plate, while Lorain and Mildred each took their own turns at serving themselves dainty portions.

"What have you children accomplished this morning?" As usual, Cole had already filled his mouth with food, so Lorain turned her full attention toward Mildred.

"Perry and I have begun clearing away the weeds and cutting the overgrown grasses in Mother's garden." Mildred sounded proud of her endeavors. "I wish mother had kept track of her garden in a book. It would be nice to know in advance where the paths lead and what plants we should look out for."

"No one has been in there for a very long time, Sister," Cole began through a mouthful of potatoes. "I'm sure whatever plants were there have long ago been replaced by weeds.

"Not so. I discovered a whole row of rose bushes this morning. They're overgrown and gnarled, but roses none the less. I wish father were here with us because he would be able to tell me how to care for them..." her words trailed off with her thoughts. Unlike the others, who had given up Cecil Greene for dead, she still believed, nigh knew that her father was still alive and that one day, in one form or another, the man would return home to take up his rightful place in proper English society.

"Millie, my dear, why don't you look over the shelves in the library? I'm sure you'll find many books on plants and flowers that will be of help to you." The tutor smiled sweetly at her charge. "I only ask that you read them inside the house and not take them outside where you might forget about them, and they'd be ruined by the weather."

As if on cue, thunder rattled the window panes.

"Oh, bother. It's going to rain all afternoon now, I suspect," said Mildred who had already been looking forward to her next discovery among the weeds.

The three ate without speaking as rain began to drum on the windowpanes.

"May I be excused?" Mildred asked as she placed her napkin on the table. "Since the weather is so foreboding, I think I will spend some time in Father's library."

"Of course, Millie," said Miss Canton.

Mildred walked through the great entrance hall with its grand staircase, gaudy crystal chandelier, and life-size portraits of an aged couple. She'd taken to calling them Helga and Roulf after characters she disliked from a penny dreadful story. Mildred opened the door to her father's study, entered the large, dark room, and left the door open behind her. She took a match from the table and lit two of the lamps before beginning her search of his vast library.

"Can I help you find something, Miss?"

Mildred turned at the voice of the old houseman. "Hello, Marcus. I'm looking for books on roses.

The man walked deftly to the center of one of the floor to ceiling bookcases that surrounded the room and lined the walls, and pointed. "You'll find books on English flowers and plants here."

Mildred moved to where he'd indicated. The two stood close to each other for a long moment. "Thank you, Marcus. That will be all."

"Would you like some tea, Miss?"

Despite the rain, the room remained warm and close. "No, thank you."

"Very good, Miss." The houseman left the room, closing the door to the library as he departed.

Mildred didn't care for Marcus. He'd been her father's valet for as long as she could remember. Obviously, her Uncle Parker trusted the man enough to allow him to stay on and run the house. But, there was something about Marcus that Mildred didn't care for. It was as if he was always watching her; he was always polite, even if stiffly so, appearing whenever Mildred left a door open. Yet, she simply didn't like the man.

After selecting several books from the shelf, Mildred sat at her father's great, ornately carved desk, and began turning page after page of the books, hoping to find the rose she'd discovered in the garden. As she thumbed through the leaves, her mind began its work, cataloging each flower and fact into her mental filing system. It wouldn't be long before she knew everything about every English rose and flower that existed, and, furthermore, she'd have instant recall of all the content for the rest of her life. That was how Mildred learned. She read something and had it forever.