NaNo - 2010: WonderHearts
Title: Well-Oiled Parts and Wonderland Hearts
Other: OH LOOK. A CHAPTER ONE! I'll start posting it like... once a week? That sounds good. One chapter a week! That will give me plenty of time to work on it and get more done :)
CHAPTER ONE
“Traci, child, be a dear and lend me a hand would you?”
Traci looked up from the book in her lap and slipped a marker between the pages. “What is it, Father?” She rose to her feet, leaving the book on the cushions, and stepping into her father's study.
He did not even look up at her call, but waved a hand in a vague, leftward direction. He had on his spectacles, onto which several other lenses had been added for additional magnification. Even though she couldn't see his face directly, she knew that if he turned towards her, his eyes would be round and bug-eyed, yet somewhat distorted behind all the lenses of various sizes. “Lady Helena has not yet come by, and her son needs his medicine.”
Traci noticed a small, carefully wrapped package sitting on the end table against the far wall. “Should I bring them to her?”
“If you could. She seemed more worked up about getting her daughter a new dress. Something about getting her daughter a sponsor for a trip to London.” Charles shrugged, pausing only for a moment to switch the tools he was holding. “And if you see Christopher on the way, tell him this prosthetic should be almost done, but I'm not mechanic. He should really take it to a mechanic next time.”
She smiled to herself, crossing the room and scooping up the small package. “He takes it to you because you do such a good job and he knows he can trust you,” she said. Traci crossed back to her father and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Charles accepted the kiss and twisted his arm to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Yes, well, I should stop being so darned nice about it.”
“I'll be back shortly, then, Father.” Traci was halfway down the hall when her father called out to her.
“Be careful when you go out, alright?” He had risen to his feet and was standing in the door to his study when Traci turned to look at him. “They had something about it in the news this morning. That new Queen running Wonderland has been making a lot of changes. Even getting the workhouses into it.”
She furrowed her brow, and held up the package. “Certainly, Wonderland's new rules don't affect an heiress.” She gave him a charming smile.
Charles frowned and hesitated before replying. “You're not much of an heiress if I let you wander the streets without a chaperone. Maybe you should take Matilda with you.”
As if in response to her name, the elderly house keeper appeared from the door that lead down to the pantry. Her hands were covered in flour and there was a loaf of bread clutched between them. “Are you saying things to scare your child again, Master Connor?” she scolded him.
Traci laughed, hooking one arm around Matilda's and stepping in close. “He thinks that Wonderland will come and whisk me away.”
“It could happen!” Charles defended, pushing his spectacles on top of his head so he could see better. “It happened to your mother when she was younger, Traci, and look-”
“Look at where it has ended both of you,” Matilda grumbled. “I told you it was no good marrying her, Master Connor. Certainly, she came from a decent family, but she was not all right, you know.” She tapped her temple, leaving a trace of flour in her already grey hair.
Traci pulled on her arm, sensing her father's unease at the familiar argument from across the hall. “Come, Matilda. Don't speak of my mother like that.”
“Goodness, child, you are too kind,” the house keeper said. She reached up to pat Traci's cheek, only to just realize that her hands were indeed covered in flour. “Your mother walks out on both of you when you are barely even two years old and you can still speak of her so calmly.”
“That's because I didn't know her as you and Father knew her,” Traci said as she lead the way down the hall. She heard the sound of the door to her father's study slamming shut, and decided to bring him some of the pie she had made earlier.
Once in the kitchen, Matilda set the bread down and began to wipe her hands off on her apron. “Let me call Cathy for you, dear. She'll get you your hat and jacket.” Leaving Traci to pick at the apple slices on lined up on a platter, the house keeper disappeared from the room.
She could hear the faint sound of conversation, a rush of laughter as the door to the servants' hall was opened, and then hurried footsteps. She selected a few slices of apple just as Matilda returned with Cathy.
“Ooh, right this way, Mistress,” Cathy chimed. While she was two years younger than Traci, she was almost the same height and obviously still growing.
Once they were out of sight of the kitchen, Traci offered her one of the apple slices. “I wish I had a chance to nab a bit of the honey. Matilda just got a jar in from her brother.”
“You know she would have scolded you if you did,” Cathy said as she took the apple. “But it is such good honey...”
The two girls laughed and hurried past the butler in the front hall. Traci set the small package she had been carrying down on the table by the door as Cathy reached into the closet and pulled out her jacket and hat.
“Here you are, Mistress.” Cathy held out the jacket so that Traci could slip her arms into it, then began to fasten the hat atop her head as Traci did up the buttons. “Be safe now,” she said, standing back and handing over the package.
Traci rolled her eyes, standing in front of the mirror and adjusting the way her black curls settled underneath the hat. “I'll be sure not to run off with any mysterious strangers,” she replied. “As long as they aren't too handsome.” She winked and laughed. “I'll be back shortly.” And with that, she placed a kiss on Cathy's cheek, plucked up her gloves from the table, and swept out through the front door.
The bright autumn sun hit her full in the face as she paused on the front stoop, closing the door behind her. It was chill, but her jacket kept out the worse of the breeze. A small smile playing on the corners of her lips, Traci tucked the package under her arm and descended the stairs, pulling on her gloves as she did so.
A hansom rolled past, the driver nodding down to her as she waited to cross the street. “Good mornin', Miss.”
“And to you,” she chimed with a wave, darting out onto the cobblestone street once the coast was clear. Once on the opposite sidewalk, she turned left, weaving in between street vendors and newspaper boys. Occasionally, she would pass a small cluster of women and girls, each pausing in their conversations to watch her pass.
She was more than aware just how odd it was to see a girl without a chaperone. But it was not as if she was going to meet up with someone - just deliver something for her father. And if she didn't hurry, Lady Helena's social hours would be almost up and she would have to leave the medicine in the hands of the maid or the butler or whoever opened the door. She needed to tell Lady Helena directly that she should pay more attention to her youngest child.
And she was quite curious to see what kind of nonsense she would go on about regarding her daughter. Really, Traci thought as she paused on a corner to let a wagon lumber past. Fall is not the right time to be giving your daughter her debut season amongst society. No one is going to want to take her along to London for the winter.
Now, spring was the perfect time. Spring and summer. While she had only been to London on several occasions, mostly attending alongside her father when he needed to make social trips, the warmer seasons had always been her favorite.
When she was two blocks away from Lady Helena's house, Traci heard a wave of cries and shouts coming from down a street lined with vendors. She hesitated, one foot off the curb as she tried to see what the commotion was about. There were a few women standing near by, tittering to themselves behind gloved hands.
“Wonderland is oversteppin' their bounds again.”
Traci's attention shifted to a pair of men that were leaving the street, disgruntled looks on their faces. “It's Wonderland?” she called to them, pointing down at the crowd that was just visible in the back corner of the street. “Wonderland is making all this commotion?”
“Yeah,” the second guy said, and both of them tipped their hats in an unconscious greeting towards her. “Some 'o the Clubs are down 'ere abouts. Lookin' for a fight, they are.”
“Pickin' on a man whose only got one leg. Asides, he looks a might too old for the Workhouses.” The first guy hesitated, staring at Traci for a second. “Don't go get yourself messed up with that lot,” he warned her. “Like he said. They're looking for an excuse.”
Traci's eyes went wide. “Thank you for the warning,” she said, “but I can't just sit by and let them bully someone I know!” Setting her shoulders, the picked up her skirts and hurried down the street, ignoring the calls from the men that tried to stop her. She pushed her way through the crowd, lifting one hand to hold on to her hat as someone's arm swung over her head and nearly knocked it off. “Let me through!” she gasped. “Please, excuse me! Let me through!”
“This ain't no place for a lady of class,” a woman sneered, trying to push her back. “Wonderland don't concern you.”
“This does,” Traci snapped back and shook off the hand. With another final push, she stumbled into the ring the onlookers had formed around the commotion. “Stop this at once!” Traci slipped the package into her pocket but didn't even bother to righten her hat as it slipped off her head. Her curls were coming loose as well.
Stillness and silence descended upon the onlookers as everyone turned to look at Traci. She could feel her face flush at the stares, but strode forward with a determined stride. “Unhand him,” she demanded, her blue eyes staring defiantly at the two oversized boys. She noticed the clovers tattooed onto the back of their hands.
“Lookit her, standing up to the Clubs like that,” she hear someone behind her whisper. As if that was the key that everyone was waiting for, a multitude of murmurs and whispers rippled through the crowd.
“Yeah?” One of the boys with the Club tattoo straightened his posture. “An' who are you to tell us what to do?” He took a step towards her, but Traci held her ground.
“That man works for me,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “You will leave him be.”
The boys exchanged glances, before smirking and turning back to her. “Now listen, Miss-”
“He is too old for your workhouses and he only has one leg.” Traci took her own step forward, a trill of excitement racing towards her as she noticed them flinch back. They must not have been used to people standing up to them. “He is already employed by my family, and so you will leave him be this instant.” When they hesitated, Traci crossed the distance between them and dropped into a crouch next to the man on the ground. “Christopher, are you all right? Christopher, it's me, Traci.” She touched a hand to his shoulder, the other flitting nervously over the injuries.
He grunted, stirred, and his eyes peeled open. “Young Miss...?” he started, before pushing himself immediately into a sitting position. “What-” Christopher paused, clutching one hand to his side. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you back to the house,” Traci explained, leaning over so she could drape one of his arms around her shoulders. “Where are your crutches?”
“Lost 'em, Miss.” He glanced nervously at the two boys hovering over them. “Didn't the Master always tell you not to get messed up with these types?” he whispered to her.
“They messed with you first,” she said loudly. Maintaining her balance as best she could, Traci pushed herself onto her feet, sagging a bit under the added weight. To her surprise, several people separated themselves from the crowd and took Christopher from her, supporting his weight against them. “Please, take him home for me.” She gave them her address, pressing a few coins into their hands. “I will be along shortly. I need to run an errand first.”
Before the people could lead him off, Christopher called out to the two boys who were still lurking in the back. “Take this message back to the Red Queen for me: Jack is watching and he won't let her win. She'll know what I mean.” Giving Traci a grateful smile, he tottered off with the three supporting him.
“Bugger all,” one of the boys grumbled. “Let's get back to the Gryphon. The Carpenter is probably wondering where we are.”
Grunting in response, the second boy took off after the first, both of them shoving past Traci without another glance.
She stood, rooted to her spot, suddenly aware that she was trembling. She clenched her hands into fists a few times, just to try and regain control of her hands before attempting to fix her hat. The curls would have to stay down. There was no way she could fix them without Cathy's help.
Thankful that she could not see how frazzled she looked, Traci pulled the package out of her pocket and took a deep breath before setting back off down the street.
Other: OH LOOK. A CHAPTER ONE! I'll start posting it like... once a week? That sounds good. One chapter a week! That will give me plenty of time to work on it and get more done :)
CHAPTER ONE
“Traci, child, be a dear and lend me a hand would you?”
Traci looked up from the book in her lap and slipped a marker between the pages. “What is it, Father?” She rose to her feet, leaving the book on the cushions, and stepping into her father's study.
He did not even look up at her call, but waved a hand in a vague, leftward direction. He had on his spectacles, onto which several other lenses had been added for additional magnification. Even though she couldn't see his face directly, she knew that if he turned towards her, his eyes would be round and bug-eyed, yet somewhat distorted behind all the lenses of various sizes. “Lady Helena has not yet come by, and her son needs his medicine.”
Traci noticed a small, carefully wrapped package sitting on the end table against the far wall. “Should I bring them to her?”
“If you could. She seemed more worked up about getting her daughter a new dress. Something about getting her daughter a sponsor for a trip to London.” Charles shrugged, pausing only for a moment to switch the tools he was holding. “And if you see Christopher on the way, tell him this prosthetic should be almost done, but I'm not mechanic. He should really take it to a mechanic next time.”
She smiled to herself, crossing the room and scooping up the small package. “He takes it to you because you do such a good job and he knows he can trust you,” she said. Traci crossed back to her father and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Charles accepted the kiss and twisted his arm to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Yes, well, I should stop being so darned nice about it.”
“I'll be back shortly, then, Father.” Traci was halfway down the hall when her father called out to her.
“Be careful when you go out, alright?” He had risen to his feet and was standing in the door to his study when Traci turned to look at him. “They had something about it in the news this morning. That new Queen running Wonderland has been making a lot of changes. Even getting the workhouses into it.”
She furrowed her brow, and held up the package. “Certainly, Wonderland's new rules don't affect an heiress.” She gave him a charming smile.
Charles frowned and hesitated before replying. “You're not much of an heiress if I let you wander the streets without a chaperone. Maybe you should take Matilda with you.”
As if in response to her name, the elderly house keeper appeared from the door that lead down to the pantry. Her hands were covered in flour and there was a loaf of bread clutched between them. “Are you saying things to scare your child again, Master Connor?” she scolded him.
Traci laughed, hooking one arm around Matilda's and stepping in close. “He thinks that Wonderland will come and whisk me away.”
“It could happen!” Charles defended, pushing his spectacles on top of his head so he could see better. “It happened to your mother when she was younger, Traci, and look-”
“Look at where it has ended both of you,” Matilda grumbled. “I told you it was no good marrying her, Master Connor. Certainly, she came from a decent family, but she was not all right, you know.” She tapped her temple, leaving a trace of flour in her already grey hair.
Traci pulled on her arm, sensing her father's unease at the familiar argument from across the hall. “Come, Matilda. Don't speak of my mother like that.”
“Goodness, child, you are too kind,” the house keeper said. She reached up to pat Traci's cheek, only to just realize that her hands were indeed covered in flour. “Your mother walks out on both of you when you are barely even two years old and you can still speak of her so calmly.”
“That's because I didn't know her as you and Father knew her,” Traci said as she lead the way down the hall. She heard the sound of the door to her father's study slamming shut, and decided to bring him some of the pie she had made earlier.
Once in the kitchen, Matilda set the bread down and began to wipe her hands off on her apron. “Let me call Cathy for you, dear. She'll get you your hat and jacket.” Leaving Traci to pick at the apple slices on lined up on a platter, the house keeper disappeared from the room.
She could hear the faint sound of conversation, a rush of laughter as the door to the servants' hall was opened, and then hurried footsteps. She selected a few slices of apple just as Matilda returned with Cathy.
“Ooh, right this way, Mistress,” Cathy chimed. While she was two years younger than Traci, she was almost the same height and obviously still growing.
Once they were out of sight of the kitchen, Traci offered her one of the apple slices. “I wish I had a chance to nab a bit of the honey. Matilda just got a jar in from her brother.”
“You know she would have scolded you if you did,” Cathy said as she took the apple. “But it is such good honey...”
The two girls laughed and hurried past the butler in the front hall. Traci set the small package she had been carrying down on the table by the door as Cathy reached into the closet and pulled out her jacket and hat.
“Here you are, Mistress.” Cathy held out the jacket so that Traci could slip her arms into it, then began to fasten the hat atop her head as Traci did up the buttons. “Be safe now,” she said, standing back and handing over the package.
Traci rolled her eyes, standing in front of the mirror and adjusting the way her black curls settled underneath the hat. “I'll be sure not to run off with any mysterious strangers,” she replied. “As long as they aren't too handsome.” She winked and laughed. “I'll be back shortly.” And with that, she placed a kiss on Cathy's cheek, plucked up her gloves from the table, and swept out through the front door.
The bright autumn sun hit her full in the face as she paused on the front stoop, closing the door behind her. It was chill, but her jacket kept out the worse of the breeze. A small smile playing on the corners of her lips, Traci tucked the package under her arm and descended the stairs, pulling on her gloves as she did so.
A hansom rolled past, the driver nodding down to her as she waited to cross the street. “Good mornin', Miss.”
“And to you,” she chimed with a wave, darting out onto the cobblestone street once the coast was clear. Once on the opposite sidewalk, she turned left, weaving in between street vendors and newspaper boys. Occasionally, she would pass a small cluster of women and girls, each pausing in their conversations to watch her pass.
She was more than aware just how odd it was to see a girl without a chaperone. But it was not as if she was going to meet up with someone - just deliver something for her father. And if she didn't hurry, Lady Helena's social hours would be almost up and she would have to leave the medicine in the hands of the maid or the butler or whoever opened the door. She needed to tell Lady Helena directly that she should pay more attention to her youngest child.
And she was quite curious to see what kind of nonsense she would go on about regarding her daughter. Really, Traci thought as she paused on a corner to let a wagon lumber past. Fall is not the right time to be giving your daughter her debut season amongst society. No one is going to want to take her along to London for the winter.
Now, spring was the perfect time. Spring and summer. While she had only been to London on several occasions, mostly attending alongside her father when he needed to make social trips, the warmer seasons had always been her favorite.
When she was two blocks away from Lady Helena's house, Traci heard a wave of cries and shouts coming from down a street lined with vendors. She hesitated, one foot off the curb as she tried to see what the commotion was about. There were a few women standing near by, tittering to themselves behind gloved hands.
“Wonderland is oversteppin' their bounds again.”
Traci's attention shifted to a pair of men that were leaving the street, disgruntled looks on their faces. “It's Wonderland?” she called to them, pointing down at the crowd that was just visible in the back corner of the street. “Wonderland is making all this commotion?”
“Yeah,” the second guy said, and both of them tipped their hats in an unconscious greeting towards her. “Some 'o the Clubs are down 'ere abouts. Lookin' for a fight, they are.”
“Pickin' on a man whose only got one leg. Asides, he looks a might too old for the Workhouses.” The first guy hesitated, staring at Traci for a second. “Don't go get yourself messed up with that lot,” he warned her. “Like he said. They're looking for an excuse.”
Traci's eyes went wide. “Thank you for the warning,” she said, “but I can't just sit by and let them bully someone I know!” Setting her shoulders, the picked up her skirts and hurried down the street, ignoring the calls from the men that tried to stop her. She pushed her way through the crowd, lifting one hand to hold on to her hat as someone's arm swung over her head and nearly knocked it off. “Let me through!” she gasped. “Please, excuse me! Let me through!”
“This ain't no place for a lady of class,” a woman sneered, trying to push her back. “Wonderland don't concern you.”
“This does,” Traci snapped back and shook off the hand. With another final push, she stumbled into the ring the onlookers had formed around the commotion. “Stop this at once!” Traci slipped the package into her pocket but didn't even bother to righten her hat as it slipped off her head. Her curls were coming loose as well.
Stillness and silence descended upon the onlookers as everyone turned to look at Traci. She could feel her face flush at the stares, but strode forward with a determined stride. “Unhand him,” she demanded, her blue eyes staring defiantly at the two oversized boys. She noticed the clovers tattooed onto the back of their hands.
“Lookit her, standing up to the Clubs like that,” she hear someone behind her whisper. As if that was the key that everyone was waiting for, a multitude of murmurs and whispers rippled through the crowd.
“Yeah?” One of the boys with the Club tattoo straightened his posture. “An' who are you to tell us what to do?” He took a step towards her, but Traci held her ground.
“That man works for me,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “You will leave him be.”
The boys exchanged glances, before smirking and turning back to her. “Now listen, Miss-”
“He is too old for your workhouses and he only has one leg.” Traci took her own step forward, a trill of excitement racing towards her as she noticed them flinch back. They must not have been used to people standing up to them. “He is already employed by my family, and so you will leave him be this instant.” When they hesitated, Traci crossed the distance between them and dropped into a crouch next to the man on the ground. “Christopher, are you all right? Christopher, it's me, Traci.” She touched a hand to his shoulder, the other flitting nervously over the injuries.
He grunted, stirred, and his eyes peeled open. “Young Miss...?” he started, before pushing himself immediately into a sitting position. “What-” Christopher paused, clutching one hand to his side. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you back to the house,” Traci explained, leaning over so she could drape one of his arms around her shoulders. “Where are your crutches?”
“Lost 'em, Miss.” He glanced nervously at the two boys hovering over them. “Didn't the Master always tell you not to get messed up with these types?” he whispered to her.
“They messed with you first,” she said loudly. Maintaining her balance as best she could, Traci pushed herself onto her feet, sagging a bit under the added weight. To her surprise, several people separated themselves from the crowd and took Christopher from her, supporting his weight against them. “Please, take him home for me.” She gave them her address, pressing a few coins into their hands. “I will be along shortly. I need to run an errand first.”
Before the people could lead him off, Christopher called out to the two boys who were still lurking in the back. “Take this message back to the Red Queen for me: Jack is watching and he won't let her win. She'll know what I mean.” Giving Traci a grateful smile, he tottered off with the three supporting him.
“Bugger all,” one of the boys grumbled. “Let's get back to the Gryphon. The Carpenter is probably wondering where we are.”
Grunting in response, the second boy took off after the first, both of them shoving past Traci without another glance.
She stood, rooted to her spot, suddenly aware that she was trembling. She clenched her hands into fists a few times, just to try and regain control of her hands before attempting to fix her hat. The curls would have to stay down. There was no way she could fix them without Cathy's help.
Thankful that she could not see how frazzled she looked, Traci pulled the package out of her pocket and took a deep breath before setting back off down the street.