The Bone Garden: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

peered through the rain. “That’s your carriage, isn’t it, Edward?”
    “About time it showed up.” Edward lifted his collar against the wind. “Gentlemen, shall we?”
    Norris’s three classmates headed down the porch steps. Edward and Charles splashed through the rain and clambered into the carriage. But Wendell paused, glanced over his shoulder at Norris, and came back up the steps.
    “Aren’t you joining us?” said Wendell.
    Startled by the invitation, Norris didn’t immediately answer. Though he stood almost a full head taller than Wendell Holmes, there was much about this diminutive man that intimidated him. It was more than Wendell’s dapper suits, his famously clever tongue; it was his air of utter self-assurance. That the man should be inviting him to join them had caught Norris off guard.
    “Wendell!” Edward called from the carriage. “Let’s go!”
    “We’re going to the Hurricane,” said Holmes. “Seems to be where we end up every night.” He paused. “Or have you other plans?”
    “It’s very kind of you.” Norris glanced at the two men waiting in the carriage. “But I don’t think Mr. Kingston was expecting a fourth.”
    “Mr. Kingston,” said Wendell with a laugh, “could use more of the unexpected in his life. Anyway, he’s not the one inviting you. I am. Join us for a round of rum flips?”
    Norris looked at the rain, falling in sheets, and longed for the warm fire that would almost certainly be burning in the Hurricane. More than that, he longed for the opening that had just been offered him, the chance to slip in among his classmates, to share their circle, if only for this evening. He could feel Wendell watching him. Those eyes, which usually held the glint of laughter, the promise of a quip, had turned uncomfortably penetrating.
    “Wendell!” Now it was Charles calling from the carriage, his voice raised in an exasperated whine. “We’re freezing here!”
    “I’m sorry,” said Norris. “I’m afraid I have another engagement this evening.”
    “Oh?” Wendell’s eyebrow lifted in a mischievous tilt. “I trust she’s a charming alternative.”
    “It’s not a lady, I’m afraid. But it’s simply something I can’t break.”
    “I see,” said Wendell, though clearly he didn’t, for his smile had cooled and already he was turning to leave.
    “It’s not that I don’t want—”
    “Quite all right. Another time, perhaps.”
    There won’t be another time, thought Norris as he watched Wendell dash into the street and climb in with his two companions. The driver flicked his whip and the carriage rolled away, wheels splashing through puddles. He imagined the conversation that would soon take place in that carriage among the three friends. Disbelief that a mere farm boy from Belmont had dared to decline the invitation. Speculation as to what other engagement, if not with a member of the fair sex, could possibly take precedence. He stood on the porch, gripping the rail in frustration at what he could not change, and what could never be.
    Edward Kingston’s carriage disappeared around the corner, bearing the three men to a fire and a convivial evening of gossip and spirits. While they sit warm in the Hurricane, thought Norris, I shall be engaged in quite a different activity. One I would avoid, if only I could.
    He braced himself for the cold, then stepped into the downpour and splashed resolutely toward his lodgings, there to change into old clothes before heading out, yet again, into the rain.
             
    The establishment he sought was a tavern on Broad Street, near the docks. Here one would not find dapper Harvard graduates sipping rum flips. Should such a gentleman wander accidentally into the Black Spar, he would know, with just a glance around the room, that he’d be wise to watch his pockets. Norris had little of value in his own pockets that night—indeed, on any night—and his shabby coat and mud-spattered trousers offered little enticement