Miss Crabtree's School for Unnaturals: the Unnaturals

By Hargrove Perth

2015 YA Fantasy Novel and Fantasy Author of the Year Double Decker Book Awards.

Deep in the woods sits an unassuming house, one not noticed by those who pass it by, but inside exists those the world has forgotten, the Unnaturals, children born with magic from an ancient source, who also possess supernatural powers that make them dangerous to the outside world. Outcasts and misunderstood, they are taken in by Miss Crabtree, the loving Headmistress of the School. Here, at the School for Unnaturals, they learn to control their gifts and learn the art of Spellbinding under her care. When the war comes to England, their lives are placed in danger as the threat of the Nazis overtaking England, and a secret society called the Ahnenerbe, desire to use the Unnaturals to give them an advantage during World War II. When an impassioned plea is made for her children to help save England, Miss Crabtree must rally her students to stand tall in the world of the Mundanes, the same world that made them outcasts. With time running out, they must fight to stay alive and out of the hands of the Nazi Regime as the War rages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paranormal Pen
• Release date: Nov 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386527244

Hargrove Perth

A perpetual night-owl and lover of all things paranormal related, Hargrove spends a great deal of time researching the larger than life characters of history to formulate characters unforgettable and strangely adored. She writes horror, dark romance, fantasy, and paranormal in the Adult, New Adult, and YA categories. When asked why paranormal, she said, "I'm the girl who cries at the end when Frankenstein is misunderstood, who wants Dracula to keep Mina in his arms forever... I see the humanity in them that others cannot." 2014 Author of the Year by Double Decker Books in Historical/Horror Dark Days Remy Broulette. DDBA 2015 Author of the Year YA Fantasy Miss Crabtree's School for Unnaturals, DDBA 2015 Nominee YA Fantasy Chronicle:Dark Sea Triad, and DDBA 2015 Author of the Year Horror (comedic) Coven Wives.

Book preview

Miss Crabtree’s

School for Unnaturals

––––––––

Hargrove Perth

COPYRIGHT 2015 Miss Crabtree’s School for Unnaturals, Book One of the Unnatural Series, Hargrove Perth. All Rights Reserved.

Editing by

Indie Editor Nancy Winterburn Tulloch

No portion of this work may be reproduced by any means whatsoever without the explicit written consent of the author and the author's publisher. This work contains people who have been used in a fictionalized setting for the purpose of historical reference. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is used strictly for the embellishment of the story to lend creditable influence to the fictionalized work. The copyright laws of 1988, namely the Berne Convention Copyright Laws of 1988, and the Digital Millennium Copy Right Act of 1998, enacted by Congress protect this work from piracy and any transmission, trade, or sale through means electronic, printed, shared, or otherwise is strictly prohibited and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Cover art Design by Dark Water Arts Designs. Published by Stardust Paranormal at Celestial Waters Publishing.

Dedication

Writing is never an endeavor solely the author’s creation. Inspiration and dedication comes from many sources, including history, friends, and family. This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandfathers, Ralph Everett Burson (Army Air Corps) and Samuel ‘Blackie’ Blackburn (753rd Railway Shop Operating Battalion – Italy, Morocco, North Africa), who served during WWII. You were heroes of the largest magnitude. I miss you every single day.

For my friend, Misty Watts, and her daughter, Claire, my mother, Ruth Ann Bracken, and my loving husband.

It seemed a normal house, a dilapidated, falling down shell of a house, a remnant of what it once was to those who passed it by, but inside there existed the Unnaturals, and the magic they possessed.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Prelude

A Tinder Among the Embers

Chandler stood before the full-length mirror as her mother drew back the laces of her plain cream-colored corset, cinching her waist down to a petite and perfect twenty inches.

Mother, I doubt Lord Henry cares if my waist is petite. He will think me as timid as a mouse if I faint from not being able to breathe.

Mrs. Angelina Crabtree smiled at her daughter, thinking what a pleasant match her husband had arranged, as she pulled the laces on the cream-colored corset even tighter and quickly tied the laces. Her mother walked to the armoire and removed a deep green skirt and a matching jacket with a lighter moss colored embroidery of trailing vines, accentuating the edges of the cuffs and the collar.

Chandler sighed deeply at the color of the dress, though she knew it would compliment her dark hair and unusual blue eyes in a flattering manner. She loved dark hues of vibrant red, a color considered not suitable for a proper woman by most.

She paused to lift the lace curtain, gazing downward at the cobblestones in their myriad shades of peach, white, and gray, silently wishing this day would complete itself and some semblance of normalcy could be attained. Chandler listened for the approach of her gentleman caller’s carriage, as the lace curtain slipped from her hand.

The Crabtree estate set in the country, far outside the city of London. A long, cobblestone circular carriage run sat in front of the manor that Chandler adored. She loved knowing when guests had arrived by the clacking of the carriage wheels as they moved across the stones. The manor was constructed long ago, from stone at the Cairnholm Quarry, and was slightly gray in nature, though it barely shown through the mass of ivy scaling its exterior.

Mr. Winslow has arrived, Mrs. Crabtree, a young servant girl said as she stood outside Chandler’s door dressed in black with a white apron and a white hair bonnet.

Thank you, Sarah. Please ready the afternoon tea.

Angelina rushed her daughter, helping her into the full skirt, cream blouse, and short waisted-coat of her dress. She reached for the powder puff and daubed her daughter’s face.

You are so flushed, Angelina said as Chandler attempted to push her mother’s hands away.

Stop fussing!

Chandler ran to the staircase and rushed down the steps with the hem of her dress grasped in her right hand, to greet Lord Henry at the front door, with little care or regard to what her mother would think.

Chandler Crabtree, her mother called after her, hurrying down the stairs, as quickly as she was able being a woman who was now a bit portly, and who did not have the spry ability of her only daughter. He will think you an impetuous woman.

She smiled as her daughter lifted her hands, tucking any loose strands of hair into the tightly twisted bun on the back of her head, smoothing any hairs that were strays, then calmly walked to the sitting room and sat on the divan, with her hands folded in her lap. Chandler waited patiently for Lord Henry to enter the room. He was handsome enough, and a good match, just as her mother said, but she was horribly frightened concerning changes she had felt lately, changes that Chandler was not certain were for the better.

A thin smile came to her lips as her father escorted Lord Henry into the parlor. She nearly stood to greet him but remembered her mother’s words and waited for Henry to approach her. He took her hand and softly kissed it.

I hope you are well today, Chandler. Lord Henry looked at her with adoring eyes, the kind every woman hoped to have upon her just once in her life.

I am quite well, and you? Chandler asked, patting the seat beside her, noting the feeling of being flushed seemed to be increasing. She tugged at the high, ruffled collar of her blouse, praying the heat would escape.

Are you certain you are well? You seem flushed. Should I fetch some water?

Perhaps some fresh air in the garden, Chandler suggested.

Henry offered his hand to Chandler and escorted her through the house to the backdoor, which led to the garden. He noticed how unusually warm her hands were, nearly hot to the touch.

The garden was awash in the colors of an unprecedented early spring in London. Cockscomb and Bachelor Buttons bloomed alongside each other, casting a sea of white and blues between the budding rose bushes as Henry walked Chandler to the bench in the center of the garden, nestled quietly in the arbor of roses.

Perhaps I should fetch the doctor, Henry offered.

No, it is not necessary, though I appreciate your concern.

Henry did not believe Chandler as she forced a smile, all the while continuing to blush deeper and deeper, until her face appeared nearly on fire, Henry rushed to locate her mother, explaining the situation, and asked if he could call upon the doctor to come to Crabtree Manor. Angelina agreed, sending Henry on the long ride to London proper to fetch Doctor Harrison. Without a second thought, Lord Henry Winslow unhitched his horse from the carriage, leapt onto the back of the magnificent black steed, and drove his heels into the horse’s ribs, taking him to a full gait.

By the time Chandler reached the sitting room, Henry had departed.

He is such a nice young man, Chandler, how could you be so unpleasant and drive him from this house by behaving as though you are ill?

You don’t understand, Mother. You will never understand.

Chandler felt faint, her breathing became more erratic, and sweat dripped from her fingertips as her mother continued to pressure her about her behavior.

You do not appear ill to me, Chandler Crabtree. I do not understand why you are being rather disagreeable concerning this courtship, her mother replied as the scent of her father’s apple pipe tobacco entered the sitting room - long before Mr. Crabtree entered the parlor.

Chandler backed away from them until she was against the heavy maroon brocade drapes covering the windows, nearly gasping for air.

Darling, calm yourself, her father said, but it was too late.

You do not understand. None of you do. There is something inside me, something dangerous, Chandler sobbed.

Child, stop this nonsense at once, her father shouted.

Her lips parted in protest as Chandler Crabtree began to breathe erratically before bursting into flames, igniting the curtains and furniture in near proximity, in a swift moving fire that spread out from Chandler’s body, trapping her parents in the sitting room, as the house quickly burned down around them.

The ashes of Crabtree Manor surrounded Chandler as tears streamed across her cheeks. She stepped from the remaining burning embers unscathed, without a mark on her body or clothing, pausing only to stare aimlessly at Lord Henry’s carriage, as it sat in the circular cobblestone way, then disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter One

A Broken Down House

Miss Chandler Crabtree stood at the bottom of the stairs in her customary red dress, though it was a more festive one than she normally chose. This day marked the arrival of two Unnaturals seeking sanctuary at her unassuming school in the middle of nowhere. Their arrival filled Miss Crabtree with an unbridled joy that she had not known in many years. She quickly slid her hands over her hair, tucking in any strands that may have fallen loose over the course of the day, knowing presentation meant everything.

The train emerged from the mist, as Miss Crabtree reached to open the door, and stepped seamlessly from the interior of her school onto the platform of the train station, just as the steam engine locomotive rolled to a stop. Steam poured from the whistle as the engineer pulled the string, allowing the whoot woot-woot of the train whistle to fill the air.

Two departing, the engineer shouted, tipping his striped hat to Miss Chandler Crabtree, and returned a smile as she nodded. He could see the happiness on the face of the Headmistress as she waited patiently for the children to step from the railroad car. He had not seen such happiness from her in many years.

A smile came to her lips as her hands smoothed the ruffles of her dress with a tinge of nervousness, hoping the fanciful red color she had chosen would not be too overwhelming to her new wards. Today Miss Chandler Crabtree was rather excited about her new arrivals. It was not every day a Tinder, like herself, arrived at the school.

Her hand slowly rose, waving to the young man and woman as they stepped from the train, suitcases in hand, holding all their worldly and unworldly possessions in two raggedy and worn suitcases that looked as though they had been fished out of the trash somewhere along their journey. Chandler did not wish to appear over-eager and attempted to contain her enthusiasm. She calmed her composure as they approached, allowing a kind smile to form. Sadness filled her heart at the rags clinging to their bodies. She pondered how long they had been on their own.

Nearly two years, ma’am, the young man replied, removing his tattered hat and nodding.

Oh to have a Mentalist with us, how delightful! Chandler paused, noting the tiredness that their bodies bore, how dark the circles under their eyes had grown, and how weary they appeared as they stood before her. Well, now that will change, won’t it? You’ll never be alone... again, she whispered, placing her hand on the side of Loren’s cheek.

Her hand reached for their bags, but they held them steadfast, unwilling to release all that remained of their once human world into the hands of Miss Crabtree. She pulled her hand back and smiled, understanding their need to hold onto all that remained of their life. A tear came to her eye as she looked at their thin bodies beneath the threadbare clothes they wore, the dirt that covered their faces, and the tangled mess in their hair. It was all Miss Crabtree could do to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around them and lathering them with kisses. She wanted Fleur and Loren DeMornay to know they were now home and no one, but no one, would ever treat them unkindly again.

Come along, let’s go home.

She opened the door to the train depot and ushered them inside, then closed the door carefully behind her. Take my hands, both of you, and stay close.

Her hand reached for the door leading to the school, a door that was a portal, of sorts, which could only work for other Unnaturals. Should a human happen into the train depot, though highly unlikely, the door would simply take them to the rear of the station and not to their beloved school. The three of them stepped forward in unison and appeared inside the School for Unnaturals at the base of a large, winding spiral staircase.

Collin, she called, placing her hand to the edge of her mouth, cupping it to magnify the sound, as she leaned forward at the bottom of the enormous spiral staircase. Collin slid down the long, wooden bannister wound tightly round the spiral staircase, and leapt to the floor.

Pleased to meet you, formally, he said, bowing.

Nice to see you again, Collin, the young man said, extending his hand.

Pleased to make your acquaintance, Collin said, bowing and lifting his fanciful hat high in the air behind his back as he turned to face Fleur. She laughed softly and smiled, thinking Collin to be quite the character. Miss Crabtree laughed along with her.

"There are two lavatories, one in the East Hall for the ladies, and one in the West Hall for the gents. Collin will show you to your rooms. Dinner will be served at precisely six. The others will ready a bath for each of you. I do hope you will