Ben frowned into his stew. That was sad, indeed, but he couldn’t pretend to be as shocked as he might have liked. From what he heard of the Cravens, there wasn’t much there to be liked. He particularly disliked John Craven, but in truth that had as much to do with the attention he seemed to garner in a certain young lady as anything else.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said around a mouthful of stew, shoveling more in. “I heard that Henry Craven is a depraved maniacal monster, that Edith has a scrying glass into which she looks in order to see the future death of every man she has ever met and consorts with ravens and crows, and that John…well, I haven’t heard much about him, actually, besides him being a possible sorcerer, but, given the family, its safe to say he’s as wicked as the rest, I’m sure. Worse, actually, probably,” he added, remembering with some rancor the way Rose had blushed once when Ben had mentioned him unexpectedly. He shrugged. “And that’s just what I heard this past week. There’s so much more than that. Could be Lady Craven’s lucky to be rid of such a lot, you know? Luckier still not to have them strewn about her bedside while she’s trying to find peace, and all.”
Ben’s expression was one of utmost shock and betrayal. “Shame on me?! There I was, trying to gasp despite the ice still clinging to my lungs, and them jumping on my poor gut the whole time! Really, I’m their victim, not the other way around. Your facts,” he added, wrongly, as he gestured boldly. “Are way off base.”
Ben, who had been smiling warmly as his sister tucked the warm blanket around his shoulders (really, all this fuss was quite enjoyable, as far as he was concerned: Ben liked nothing so much as to be center of attention), suddenly broke into a scowl at the word ‘caution,’ arguably the worst word – by his standards – in the Valerian vocabulary. “Caution! Do you take me for James?” he scoffed. “The man has never done anything exciting in the whole of his life, all he does is…herd sheep and dig holes. I ask you! What kind of life is that?”
It was, of course, utterly unknown to him that James had dared a secret courtship with the heir to the throne and threatened Henry Craven, all while also harboring a secret witch (though that last bit Ben did know about), making him perhaps the most daring of the lot.
“No,” he decided. “Better to perish boldly beneath the ice than to live such a dreadfully dull existance as that. Anyway, what use would anyone have to me if I tried to be responsible like everyone else? There’s already more than enough of that to go around. You need me to liven this place up a bit. You’d miss my antics if they were gone.”
Ben cocked his head. “What is it with these Cravens and collecting former palace staff? They’ll have a complete collection soon, if they keep this up. But, say, Loulou, what is it like to work for them? I mean, are they at all what everyone says? Can Lady Edith truly commune with the woeful spirits of long-forgotten spinsters and goblins to learn the location of the lost tombs of dead kings?” Though rather specific in its nature, this was a genuine rumor Ben had heard, utterly free of his usual exaggeration. After all, it was a tale that required no further embellishment. “Does Lord Henry really bathe in liquid gold beneath the sewers of the city?” In this case, Ben had actually truncated the rumor somewhat, as it related to the kinds of activities – and, indeed, companions – Henry had in these bathing rituals, but even Ben thought this seemed a great deal too shocking to mention in front of his most innocent sibling. He paused, trying to rack his brain for anything as sensational at all about the youngest. Failing this, he simply asked: “Is Lord John truly a Moralist?”
Ben sighed dramatically. “Much as I love you, dear sister, I can make no such pledge and remain myself. No, to promise such a thing would be to end all that I am, in which case I may as well have drowned.” Pleased with this speech, he grinned at her as if he had just said something particularly amusing, and passed her his bowl. “More, please?”
Louisa rolled her eyes, “Ben, none of that is true! I don’t know where you hear such ridiculous gossip. Henry Craven is not a depraved maniacal monster! In fact, he’s always been quiet kind to me,” It was clear, even to Louisa, that he didn’t always remember her name or, exactly, who she was but he’d never made her feel as though she was below his notice, just that they didn’t have much chance to interact, given that she was there as his sister’s seamstress and nothing more. “I suppose he drinks a bit more than he ought to,” She found herself saying: she couldn’t remember a time when she saw him arise from bed before noon and, more than once, she had accidentally found him asleep on one of the sofas downstairs, having not made it back to his bed the night before, “And I suppose that is where he gets his reputation, but it is very much exaggerated!”
Louisa drew her shaw closer round her shoulders as she settled back down in the chair near Ben, “And you cannot say those things about Edith Craven! She’s been very good to me. She’s the most particular customer I’ve ever worked for, but that is only because she has very precise tastes,” She half designed most of the clothes that Louisa made her: insisting on some details to the point of how many feathers ought to be here or there and she always had opinions on the sort of feathers: not just color.
“And I don’t think anyone can find much fault with John Craven. Even with such rumors the only one you could find against him was that he might be a witch. I shouldn’t think you should hold that against him, Ben,” Louisa said softly, knowing that her brother wouldn’t. Of all of her siblings, Ben had been the most encouraging of her abilities when it was discovered: the others only worried for Lou’s safety and what it would mean when she was found out, while Ben was eager to see what his sister could do.
“And you should follow his example,” Louisa said, “Our brother has a good life.” There, of course, was a sadness about him: a sadness that had not touched Ben and Lou hoped never would. But Louisa firmly believed that it was temporary, “And once he reconciles with his sweetheart,” She added, softly, so that the others might not hear, “You will see how very happy he will be.” James had never once mentioned that he was in love, but it had been plain to all of the Wilsons that he was and then, suddenly, something had changed and that’s when he was accepted his new position. Alice and Sarah had told Louisa that that was the end of it, whatever it was, but Louisa was certain that one day, James would marry her. (It was why she was secretly working on a veil for their wedding day, but she hadn’t told anyone of that plan: not even Ben).
Louisa couldn’t help but smile when Ben said that they would all miss his antics if they were gone, “But of course we would! We don’t need or want you to be James, but a slightly more cautious version of yourself. We would miss you and your antics terribly, but would rather not see anything happen to you because of them, which is why you have to think twice before putting yourself into a situation where you might drown in a frozen lake.”
Louisa took Ben’s bowl and returned with a second helping.
It was hard to find the words as to how it was, exactly, to work for the Cravens. They were a rather dysfunctional lot and certainly they lacked the same warmth and signs of affection that were commonplace in the Wilson household. It had been something of a shock for Louisa, when she first arrived, to see them all behave thus. Even Louisa, who often thought the best of everyone, had trouble finding excuses for the way they treated each other. John, of course, was always the exception and she would have to agree that he was the best of them. However, after working there for a longer period of time, she began to see redeeming moments for all of their characters, to the point where she had decided that they were all good people.
“What is it like? Nothing at all like you describe it,” She laughed, “Although, I do believe John Craven is a Moralist, which makes him everything that is good and brave. Truly, though, I only know Edith Craven well enough to tell you about. The others mostly keep to themselves. Henry Craven certainly keeps himself busy and isn’t often at home, poor Lady Craven is very ill, but suffers the pain to be there for her family whenever she can. She always makes a point to be out of bed when there is a great family dinner or celebration, so she isn’t missed. And Lord Craven is often in his library. I don’t know if Edith Craven will mean to keep me on after she is married. She’s very much in love with Howard Calvert. Have you ever met him, Ben?” She asked, wondering if he’d ever encountered Rose’s brother on his visits to her home, “They’ve been in love with each other ever since they were children and they are both so excited for the wedding. Even before their engagement, she had me start on designs for her wedding gown. She always knew that they would end up together. I’m so very happy for them: I know that they will always love each other.”
