“THIS BETTER NOT be a den of thieves,” I said.
“It’s not,” Mr. Kent said as he knocked on the front door to a crumbling house that fit in with the other buildings around us. The street was dotted with squat houses in yellow brick, and a skinny railway curved over the rooftops, bringing people in and out of London. Lambeth wasn’t exactly the most fashionable area, but after the exhausting fight and our hasty escape from the train, I was willing to settle for anything. As long as it was as discreet as Mr. Kent claimed.
“And not a brothel, either,” I said.
“It’s even better than that,” Mr. Kent replied with a wink.
Oh Lord.
But then the door opened to an unexpected but familiar face.
Tuffins allowed himself one astonished blink before greeting us. “Mr. Kent, Miss Wyndham, Mr. Braddock. My … most sincere condolences.”
“Thank you, Tuffins. I am sorry for all the unexpected events,” Mr. Kent said. “Including this intrusion. But, well, I recalled your mother runs a boarding house, and we were wondering whether you have any vacancies for, hmm … nine of us.”
Tuffins looked out over our shoulders to the two waiting carriages on the street.
“Miss Kent is with us,” I added. “She is safe.”
He maintained his full butlery composure, but I could see the slightest hints of relief flooding his body. His hands relaxed their hold on the door. He let out a long-held breath. His jaw unclenched. It was the happiest I’d ever seen him. “I will inform my mother and return to fetch your belongings.”
“Oh, no need, we have none,” Mr. Kent replied, waving the notion aside with his metallic hand. “But if you could set up a room appropriate for a guest we’d really rather not escape? Something secure. Perhaps odd and threatening?”
“Yes, of course.” The fact that Tuffins didn’t even bat an eye was the final reassurance I needed that this was the right place.
We went back to the carriages to get the rest of our group. While Mr. Kent and Miss Chen escorted Mr. Adeoti to his room, I paid our drivers with the last coin I had left. I didn’t know how far Mr. Kent’s funds would stretch, but I tried to take my cue from Tuffins and remain calm as we climbed the stairs and entered the boarding house.
The inside of the house was completely at odds with the tired, worn exterior. Rugs that didn’t quite fit together spread across the wooden floors. The walls were covered with a strange assortment of images. Landscape prints sat next to advertisement bills, which sat next to detailed sketches of insects. There was no discernible pattern—just an overwhelming enthusiasm for everything.
We made our way across a narrow hallway, past the main staircase, and into a cramped dining room decorated in more mismatched choices, from the styles of all the chairs to the trinkets lining the fireplace mantel. A moment later, Tuffins came downstairs with Mr. Kent, Miss Chen, and a stout older woman who was dressed exactly like the rest of the house: hair in an older style, green glass earrings shining brilliantly, her dress all manner of patterns, and sturdy boots on her feet. Tuffins cleared his throat and gestured to the woman beside him but found himself quite interrupted by a vicious hug.
“T-Tuffins, you-you’re here. You’re alive.” Laura clung to him as if he’d disappear if she let go.
If Tuffins was at all put out, he didn’t show it in the least. “I am most thankful to see the same is true of you, Miss Kent.”
Behind him, the older woman looked around the room with a wide, slightly flustered smile, overwhelmed by all her guests and trying to decide how to welcome us.
Tuffins helped her with the decision. “Miss Kent, may I introduce you to my mother, Mrs. Eleanor Tuffins?”
Laura looked up, her eyes red and astonished, as if she’d never considered Tuffins could have a mother. She unlatched herself and made a deep curtsy.
But Mrs. Tuffins would have none of that. She waved away the curtsy with warmth. “Oh, Miss Kent, I’ve heard so much about you.” She pulled Laura into a hug, briskly rubbing her back and tucking back her hair. She looked at each of us with so much concern and true feeling my lip began to tremble despite itself. “I’m so sorry to hear what’s happened to you, my poor dears. But you are welcome here as long as you need. All of you.”
Tuffins proceeded to make the introductions, and Mr. Kent helped fill in the gaps, after which Mrs. Tuffins was eager to get us settled.
“Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve had guests,” she said, her face red and shining. “I haven’t shown anyone around in months.”
“Most of the lodgers left last year when two of the factories nearby closed,” Tuffins explained to us.
“And someone insisted I sell this and find a small home for myself. But if I had,” she said, shooting her son a fond look, “I wouldn’t have had room here for all of you.”
“It was shamefully shortsighted of me,” Tuffins put in.
Mrs. Tuffins gestured around the room. “Well, my dears, we will have all our meals in here. Our breakfast is at seven, lunch at noon, and dinner at six, though of course we can alter that if it does not suit?” She made it sound like the most important possible question, and we quickly assured her the times were amenable. The brilliant smile was back on her face immediately.
“I imagine you all must be very hungry. I’ll have the cook prepare some tea and cakes now.” She squeezed Laura’s shoulders and gently led us down a hallway toward the back of the house. She opened a door at the end of it leading to a small, well-kept garden. “The garden, as you can see, is quite modest, though we do get lovely ro—Oh! And this is Soot. He’s the head of the household.”
A very fat and very friendly black cat slipped in, nuzzling against our legs as he made his way through our group. Laura managed to pet him once before he continued on his way, leading our tour back inside to a small, colorful side room.
“Now, you are welcome to use this parlor whenever you wish,” Mrs. Tuffins said. “We have all sorts of books, a writing desk for letters or studies, and there’s an old pianoforte in the corner for those of you that are musical. I’ve sure some of you sing beautifully.” She chucked Laura under the chin a little.
“Well, I don’t like to boast.…,” Mr. Kent said.
Laura made a little choking sound, and I was quite convinced she was about to laugh until she burst into tears instead.
“I didn’t think it was that bad of a joke,” Mr. Kent muttered as he fumbled through his pockets for a handkerchief.
“Oh my poor dears, this isn’t at all what you need now, is it?” Mrs. Tuffins shook her head regretfully. “Let me show you your rooms, so you can get some rest. Sleep always makes things a little better.”
“We are so thankful that you have room for us.” Rose took Mrs. Tuffins’s arm and smiled gratefully. The older woman dimpled and reddened as she patted Rose’s hand. We followed Mrs. Tuffins, winding out of the other parlor exit and up the main staircase.
Laura sniffled into her handkerchief as her brother guided her up behind us. “She’s … just … so … nice,” she whispered in between sobs.
It was impossible to argue with that, and I could feel my own eyes pricking a little. Every warm and welcoming part of Mrs. Tuffins and her house that was more a home was a reminder of everything we’d lost. Of places to which we could never return. Of people we took for granted.
“We have four rooms on this floor and two rooms above,” Mrs. Tuffins said as we reached the first-floor hallway. “Some of you may have to share. I hope you won’t mind terribly.”
A scrabbling sound came from behind us. Emily was telekinetically dragging a small piece of scrap fabric across the floor while Soot diligently stalked it. Laura had stopped crying, watching the cat wait to pounce on its prey. The girls and cat wandered into the first bedroom, and Mr. Kent closed the door halfway, to keep the powers out of sight.