Storing Up Trouble, стр. 16
“He knows who I am?” Norman asked in a hushed tone even as his hand further tightened on her arm.
Sending him what she hoped was an encouraging smile, Beatrix stepped forward, even though Norman was trying to hold her back. Tugging Norman beside her, she walked through the door of her aunt’s large and somewhat unnerving house, turning her smile on the man holding the door for her.
“I lost my traveling companion, Miss Munn, before I even got out of New York, and then acquired the company of Mr. Nesbit when we ran afoul of some train robbers.”
“An interesting development to your day, I’m sure.” The man inclined his head and smiled. “I’m Edgar, Miss Beatrix. Edgar Bosworth, butler to Miss Huttleston.”
Beatrix turned to Norman and lowered her voice to the merest whisper. “You really might want to consider having a bit of a chat with that sister of yours. Lurch indeed.”
“Edgar’s not much better, nor is Bosworth,” Norman whispered back.
Ignoring that, she smiled at Mr. Bosworth. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bosworth.”
Mr. Bosworth’s smile widened. “I can also see your aunt was right about you being a charming sort, but there’s no need to call me Mr. Bosworth. Edgar is fine, and it’s what everyone calls me, except for some of the mischievous children who live in these parts.” He sent her a wink. “They enjoy calling me Lurch, and I must say I find that amusing and have been known to take a turn around the street, hunching my shoulders as I go, which does keep those children in a state of high anticipation.”
Beatrix grinned as some of the anxiety she hadn’t realized she’d been holding about coming to stay with an aunt she barely knew disappeared. “I imagine it does indeed.”
Edgar inclined his head, his rheumy blue eyes twinkling. “And with that settled, allow me to welcome you to Hyde Hall.” He gestured around the hallway. “It’s a lovely house, filled with the treasures your aunt has collected on her many journeys, and I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. Your aunt has been looking forward to your visit and hasn’t stopped talking about the plans she has for you since it was decided you were coming to Chicago.”
“She has plans for me?”
“She does, but I’ll leave it to her to explain.”
Realizing that Norman was being far too silent, Beatrix glanced his way, finding his eyes narrowed on something behind Edgar. Craning her neck, she peered around the butler and found at least twenty cats sitting in a perfectly straight line against the wall, their heads turned her way, staring at her with unblinking eyes.
“Your mother must be incredibly put out with you,” Norman said, nodding toward the cats. A second later, he sneezed, sneezed again, and again, then began digging into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, which he promptly sneezed into.
“God bless you,” Beatrix told him when he finally stopped sneezing and turned watery eyes her way.
“It would be a greater blessing if God would take away my sensitivity to cats, as well as pollen, smog, and numerous other things, but thank you for that.”
“You’re sensitive to cats?”
“Why do you think I’m sneezing?”
“I thought you were recovering from a cold. I noticed on the train that your nose was red.”
“You noticed that?”
“You’re not the only one capable of being observant.”
Norman dabbed at his nose again. “Apparently not, but my symptoms on the train were a direct result of the cloying perfume the woman wearing the purple hat had on, which is why I abandoned that seat and moved closer to you, even though I was hesitant to do so because you’d proven yourself to be a chatty sort. You, however, weren’t wearing a cloying perfume but a more pleasant scent, one I got a better whiff of later when you . . .”
“When I what?” Beatrix prodded when Norman stopped talking right as a cat came streaking past them with what looked to be a dead mouse in its mouth. The cat stopped, turned, then trotted back toward them, depositing the mouse at Norman’s feet and releasing a purr before slinking off down a dim hallway and disappearing from sight.
“How unusual,” Edgar said. “Phantom never shares his mice, but it seems he’s taken to you, Mr. Nesbit, something I’ve never seen that cat do before.”
Norman dabbed at his nose and nodded. “Cats seem to sense that I’m sensitive to them, and being rather interesting creatures, they also seem to enjoy tormenting me by leaving dead birds and mice at my feet. Once I even had one climb a tree to slip through my open window.” He shook his head. “Couldn’t breathe for a good few days after that surprise.”
“Is that a dead mouse lying on the floor?”
Recognizing the voice as belonging to her aunt Gladys, Beatrix turned, but her greeting got stuck in her throat the moment her gaze settled on her aunt.
Dressed in trousers that had been cut off at the knee, and wearing striped stockings and a large, billowing shirt that looked as if it might belong to a pirate, Aunt Gladys was an unexpected sight, especially since her face was covered in something that looked, unfortunately, like blood.
Before Beatrix could process that sight, or determine why her aunt might be covered in blood in the first place, Norman appeared directly in front of her. To her utter astonishment, he then picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all and strode for the door.
Chapter 7
“I insist you set my niece down at once, sir, and also insist you