Read Online City of Darkness (City of Mystery) by Kim Wright - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kim Wright
Ads: Link
minute listening to this
nonsense.” Sir Randolph turned and barked to his men, who were scrambling to
carry the rest of the crates onto the transport.
“If you wish to prove your strength,
Sir Randolph, then why don’t you do something that will improve England? Start
a factory and create more jobs! Help the poor!” the woman shouted at his
retreating back. A smattering of applause broke from the crowd.
Suddenly the woman glanced back
toward her audience and her eyes fell directly upon Leanna. “Darling!” she
cried, as the heads of the onlookers turned. “I’d recognize that Bainbridge
profile anywhere.” Leanna drew back, startled by the shift in the crowd’s
attention, as the woman bustled toward her, both arms outstretched. “I am your
Aunt Gerry! Welcome to London!”
CHAPTER SIX
Autumn, 1872
His father had taught him to hunt.
The man had taken the boy, when he
was no more than nine, into the oak woods outside their home. Had given him a
gun, one of the sandwiches they had wrapped the night before, and had taught
him how to find a place to hide. Not deep in the brambles, as one might imagine.
If the hunter sought too much coverage or buried too deep, his father
explained, then the slightest move would give his position away.
The father illustrated. He climbed
into a nest of broken branches and covered himself entirely. Then he made a
great, loud sneeze and the entire pile had shaken, puffing stray leaves into
the air.
The boy had laughed.
Far better, the man explained,
crawling out and brushing the debris from his jacket, to hide in an open area.
Perhaps “hide” was not even the proper word. It was more a matter of blending
in, of being unobtrusive, of becoming so much a part of the landscape that the
birds knew you were there, but did not register your presence as alarming.
Ducks, pheasants, and quail were dumb creatures, dumb and plentiful, and if one
sat still long enough they would come of their own accord into your line of
vision. The victim would choose himself, would practically step before your
rifle and beg to be shot.
The boy nodded. He’d always had the
gift of grasping concepts quickly, of understanding certain things before his
childhood vocabulary gave him the ability to explain them, even to himself. He
may not have known the word “contradiction” but he understood his father’s
message well enough. The key to survival was to be special, smarter than the
other creatures around you, yet still to blend in.
The blending, of course, is the
challenge. Most creatures who are special cannot seem to stop themselves from
announcing the fact, despite the dangers that come with being different from
the rest of your species. If you tie a red string around a wren’s leg, the
others in the flock will peck it to death.
CHAPTER SEVEN
September 25
8:20 AM
“I’m still not certain that it’s
proper to wear a purple dress in mourning,” Leanna fretted, as she pushed a
slice of pear around her plate. “Grandfather has only been buried for three weeks.”
“You loved Leonard, we all know
that,” Geraldine said, looking up from her copy of the morning paper. “The
important thing is that you and Tom were a comfort to him while he lived, not
some barbaric custom you choose to observe after he is dead. Besides, your new
gown looks lovely on you.”
Leanna ducked her head a bit
guiltily, knowing what Aunt Gerry said was true. In the two weeks since her
arrival, Leanna had roamed the streets of London daily with Gerry’s maid Emma
in tow. She had indulged herself in several gowns but the purple one,
delivered just the evening before, was her favorite. It brought out the grey
in her eyes and she had never worn a color quite so deep and striking.
Gwynette had been more of the opinion that maiden girls should wear shades of
pink, robin’s egg blue, and yellow – colors which suited neither
nonsense.” Sir Randolph turned and barked to his men, who were scrambling to
carry the rest of the crates onto the transport.
“If you wish to prove your strength,
Sir Randolph, then why don’t you do something that will improve England? Start
a factory and create more jobs! Help the poor!” the woman shouted at his
retreating back. A smattering of applause broke from the crowd.
Suddenly the woman glanced back
toward her audience and her eyes fell directly upon Leanna. “Darling!” she
cried, as the heads of the onlookers turned. “I’d recognize that Bainbridge
profile anywhere.” Leanna drew back, startled by the shift in the crowd’s
attention, as the woman bustled toward her, both arms outstretched. “I am your
Aunt Gerry! Welcome to London!”
CHAPTER SIX
Autumn, 1872
His father had taught him to hunt.
The man had taken the boy, when he
was no more than nine, into the oak woods outside their home. Had given him a
gun, one of the sandwiches they had wrapped the night before, and had taught
him how to find a place to hide. Not deep in the brambles, as one might imagine.
If the hunter sought too much coverage or buried too deep, his father
explained, then the slightest move would give his position away.
The father illustrated. He climbed
into a nest of broken branches and covered himself entirely. Then he made a
great, loud sneeze and the entire pile had shaken, puffing stray leaves into
the air.
The boy had laughed.
Far better, the man explained,
crawling out and brushing the debris from his jacket, to hide in an open area.
Perhaps “hide” was not even the proper word. It was more a matter of blending
in, of being unobtrusive, of becoming so much a part of the landscape that the
birds knew you were there, but did not register your presence as alarming.
Ducks, pheasants, and quail were dumb creatures, dumb and plentiful, and if one
sat still long enough they would come of their own accord into your line of
vision. The victim would choose himself, would practically step before your
rifle and beg to be shot.
The boy nodded. He’d always had the
gift of grasping concepts quickly, of understanding certain things before his
childhood vocabulary gave him the ability to explain them, even to himself. He
may not have known the word “contradiction” but he understood his father’s
message well enough. The key to survival was to be special, smarter than the
other creatures around you, yet still to blend in.
The blending, of course, is the
challenge. Most creatures who are special cannot seem to stop themselves from
announcing the fact, despite the dangers that come with being different from
the rest of your species. If you tie a red string around a wren’s leg, the
others in the flock will peck it to death.
CHAPTER SEVEN
September 25
8:20 AM
“I’m still not certain that it’s
proper to wear a purple dress in mourning,” Leanna fretted, as she pushed a
slice of pear around her plate. “Grandfather has only been buried for three weeks.”
“You loved Leonard, we all know
that,” Geraldine said, looking up from her copy of the morning paper. “The
important thing is that you and Tom were a comfort to him while he lived, not
some barbaric custom you choose to observe after he is dead. Besides, your new
gown looks lovely on you.”
Leanna ducked her head a bit
guiltily, knowing what Aunt Gerry said was true. In the two weeks since her
arrival, Leanna had roamed the streets of London daily with Gerry’s maid Emma
in tow. She had indulged herself in several gowns but the purple one,
delivered just the evening before, was her favorite. It brought out the grey
in her eyes and she had never worn a color quite so deep and striking.
Gwynette had been more of the opinion that maiden girls should wear shades of
pink, robin’s egg blue, and yellow – colors which suited neither
Similar Books
