The Savage Inheritance

The Miniature in the Book

Bawden shook his head as he scanned Miss Savage's messy notes. He scattered them on the table before the hearth. Ramsey was leaning against the mantle, staring into the flames. The wind whipped through the trees, the ancient oaks groaning as they swayed in the blustery night.

"She is as quixotic as her mother," Bawden sank into one of the chairs. "Mary never could sit for long at her studies. Perhaps feminine weakness is to blame. A shame that she had not been a boy. Help bring him to better things than his father."

Ramsey wandered over to the table and ran his fingers over her papers, his touch pausing at the drawing of the hunting wolves and wounded stag. The book in his pocket felt heavier. He retrieved it and flipped through the pages. Something fell out of the back and whispered to the floor.

"What do you have there?" Bawden leaned over and picked the small oval slip from the threadbare rug. He jaw slackened as he studied it.

"What is it?"

Bawden shook his head and tried to tuck it into his pocket, but Ramsey moved to the arm of his chair. It was a miniature painting of a beautiful girl with brown curls and gray eyes.

"Who-"

Bawden cleared his throat. "It is Mercy's mother. This was my own, Mary had one done for me before I left for school. I sent it back to her when she told me of her plans."

Ramsey took a guess from the bitterness in Bawden's voice. "To be married?"

"Of course to be married," Bawden snapped.

"... she was very beautiful."

"Miss Savage takes after her a little, but she has her father's fox-like countenance, that infuriating, smirking mouth. She's quite a vexing girl is Miss Savage," Bawden groused miserably. "Where did this come from?"

Ramsey revealed Breaking and Binding. "It was among the collection from Edward Savage's library."

"But it is not Edward's book. It was the one and only book that I imparted to him. He never returned it." Bawden's voice became very small. Ramsey held it out to Bawden, but the man only frowned into the fire. "Just return it to the shelf where you found it. I wish for some more of that pigeon pie from supper. And another pot of tea. I feel a chill coming on."

Ramsey nodded and left his side. However, he tucked the book into his pocket where the sheet with Mercy's drawing was hidden as well.

***

Watertown, 1726

"So you see when the shelves are complete-" Cyril Bawden lifted a hand from the leafy sheet of plans and waved towards the end of the room.

"Oh, I see. It's brilliant, Cyril. Simply brilliant." Edward Savage clapped his friend's shoulder and gave him a crooked smile. "I don't believe I'll be able to compete."

Gilbert Norrell gave a shrug and a barely concealed grin of pleasure. He brushed the light layer of dust that his working class, childhood friend left on his shoulder. "Well, you may try, Edward. You always do."

Edward Savage gave a light laugh and meandered farther into the library of Northcairn Hall. Half the shelves were already fitted to the stones, Cyril's collection of books of business, local history and myth, and the occult filling them. He removed his spectacles and cleaned them with a handkerchief. Making a slow circle, he shook his head in awe.

"This will truly be a marvel. You will be the premier scholar of the colonies. European professors from those upstart universities in Boston will be clambering for invitations."

Cyril shifted uncomfortably and folded the floor plans neatly under his arm. "Oh I don't know about that."

"Perhaps you shall marry?" Edward grinned in his direction. "A woman of social bearing who can do your entertaining for you so all you must do is study when you are not building your business pursuits."

Hesitating, Cyril wet his lips before he answered. Of late, it seemed many of his acquaintances were pressuring him to procure a wife. Ever since he had come into his inheritance at Northcairn one year earlier, he had been avoiding the question. His studies and profession would always come first before any woman, even though only Edward and a few others knew of the true nature of his wealth. 

"I have been waiting for nearly half an hour." Mary appeared in the doorway of the library, her brown curls teased up in the latest fashion. One strand was brilliant white and had been since their childhood. If anything, it only added to her beauty. "I had hoped to venture to Boston this afternoon and here you both are with these silly books."

Cyril ignored her slight of his beloved library. He smiled genuinely as he gave Mary Stewart a nod. "We are about finished."

Mary sighed and widened her gray eyes. "Then come along!"

She flounced out of sight, her footsteps echoing down the hall outside.

"Has she always been like that?" Edward asked with a bemused grin. "Even when you were both children?"

Cyril gave a breathy laugh. "Always. She dragged me through more mud puddles and across more windy marshland than I care to recall."

Cyril Bawden had been a lonely child until he'd been introduced to his distant cousin, Mary Stewart. She had brought life and energy into his solitary existence. Having been spoiled by her widower father, she had grown up with none of the social restraints other girls her age had endured. It did nothing to hamper her social conquests, she was the star of every dinner party and the most sought after dancing partner at balls. But she was always Cyril's own Mary.

"She certainly is a wonder," Edward Savage commented idly.

Cyril stiffened at his tone and glanced over at his only other friend in the world. Edward Savage was from a base upbringing. His father had been a failed miller, a drunk who beat his wife and children. Northcairn's cook had been his aunt so Edward was often at the Hall when they were growing up, escaping his father's rages. He had been Cyril's only playmate. 

While he was devoted to his friend, Cyril had always been secretly jealous of his brazen manner, charm, and handsome demeanor. Edward was unstoppable. Where his father had been a failure, Edward Savage was a success after he had bought the local inn and tavern and turned it into a fixture for carriage travel on the Old Berlin Road. He was self-made and ambitious to a fault.

Cyril had noticed the way that Mary looked at Edward. But surely nothing would come of it. She was well above his station.

Cyril cleared his throat and started towards the door. "She is a foolish thing though, Edward. She'd never step foot in here unless forced. Or open a book. She'd much rather be riding the marshland like a wildling."

Edward peered down at a pile of volumes to be shelved and ran his fingers over the cover of one. "Do you know... have you heard of her interest in any gentleman-"

"Most certainly not," Cyril snapped and quickly scoffed to cover his alarm. "And God help any man who does catch her."

"May I borrow this one?" Edward lifted a slim book that appeared of little consequence.

It was a funny little examination of occult and the summoning of supernatural servants. Cyril only wanted to distract Edward from the topic of Mary Stewart, even if it meant lending out one of his books.

"Of course, please do," Cyril replied before starting towards the door. "Perhaps when we bring Mary to town, we can stop and see if the sellers have anything new."

Edward tucked the book into his jacket with a laugh. "Of course we shall. I will never be the scholar you are destined to be, Cyril. You truly have a gift."

Cyril Bawden feigned humility and waved off the comment. "Thank you, Edward."

Edward lifted his eyebrows. "Perhaps I should marry well just to keep up with you."