We left Phoebe by the back door and Clive led me back to the rose gardens. He began the tour by telling me the name of each variety of plant.
I was only half listening. Most of my mind was on places Panther could be staying, and clearly I could not see any possibilities this close to the house.
“Did you get that, my lady?”
“What? Oh, yes, very interesting.”
Clive smiled. “You looked a bit glassy-eyed. So, do you have a favorite?”
I knew I’d been found out. “The big red one, with all those layers.”
Clive nodded. “I think we’ll skip the proper names.”
The rest of the tour was less learned and more interesting. Clive showed me the paths through parts of the forest within the manor house grounds, as well as the herb garden, the kitchen vegetable patch, and the borders of the maze. The one thing I did not see was a guest house. I finally decided I’d have to be more direct. “Are there any other buildings?”
“Just three sheds: the one in the herb garden, the one by the edge of the forest, and the round one. And there’s a new traveler’s shelter in the woods. It’s a good place to go if you get caught out in the rain.”
I nodded, glad I didn’t need to come up with a reason for being interested in buildings.
“Now this path takes you back through the rose garden and you’re back home in time for lunch.”
I looked around and realized he was right. We’d gone all the way around the grounds and ended up back by the house. Footstool was waiting for me by the garden door.
“To the dining room?”
Footstool nodded and started walking.
“I didn’t see anywhere he could be.”
Footstool seemed to droop a little. I knew he was missing his friend.
“I think I’ll go out after lunch. Maybe I missed something someplace. The woods; those might not be considered part of the grounds.”
That seemed to cheer Footstool up. I wished he’d gone out with me this morning. I wasn’t sure how far from the house I felt comfortable going without a guide.
Chapter 10
After lunch, I went back outside, accompanied by Footstool this time. I started by showing him what I’d already ruled out, in case he noticed something I didn’t. “I’ve seen the round shed. It’s where I met Clive this morning. It’s right over there.”
Footstool looked over.
“Should we have another look, or try to find the travelers shelter in the woods?”
Footstool ignored the shed and kept walking toward the forest. I was impressed by how quickly he found the start of the path.
The traveler’s shelter was not hard to find. It was a forty-five minute walk from the house, near the stream Clive had said marked the edge of the house’s lands. It was just what it sounded like, a small shelter. The walls were rough wood planks, with a sloped roof. The door was solid, with leather hinges and a simple wooden latch with a rope. There was one small window facing the road, with a piece of oilcloth covering it.
“I don’t think he‘s here.”
Footstool went to the door anyway and seemed to be looking around. I followed. The ground around the door was damp enough to pick up footprints, but I didn’t see any that could belong to Panther.
It seemed like a long shot, but I lifted the latch and went in. It was small and dark inside. I rolled up the oilcloth window shade to let in more light so we could look around. There was a firepit and wood, but no sign of a recent fire. There was also a cot with a blanket that sent up a cloud of dust when I touched it. The only things that looked like they had been used recently were the fishing rods standing in the corner.
“Do you see anything?”
Footstool went back outside. Apparently he saw about as much as I did. I closed the window and followed him out, pulling the door closed and making certain the latch caught. I was going to ask Footstool what we should do next, but he had already started walking down the path, further into the forest. I hoped he would know how to get us back to the house.
*
Footstool followed the path along the stream. It was a picturesque walk among the trees, but I wasn’t sure how it was helping us find Panther. Twenty minutes down the path, we found the remains of another traveler’s shelter, which looked like it had burned down many years ago. I wanted to ask Footstool if he’d known it was there, but he was busy poking around the ruins and I didn’t want to distract him from the task. He would have had to stop to act out the answer and, as expressive as he was, I wasn’t sure how we would manage a complex answer like that. It didn’t take long to determine that there was nothing left of the old building which could have served Panther as a shelter. When Footstool had confirmed that, he found another path into the forest. I kept following him. So far, he hadn’t led me wrong.
But there was nothing else in the forest. No place for Panther to be staying, unless he was sleeping rough among the trees. The longer we looked, the more often I found my mind straying from the search for Panther to the question of where we were and how we’d get back, until I recognized the short hedges bordering the vegetable garden. Even I could find my way to the house from there.
As Footstool and I made our way along the hedges, looking for the gate into the garden, I heard Mistress Leone’s voice coming from the woods behind us. I couldn’t think of a reason for the housekeeper to be this far from the main house, unless there was a guest house we hadn’t seen. I went back into the forest, in the direction of the voice, Footstool trotting right behind me.
I followed Mistress Leone’s voice to the clearing where I had left Clive after our tour. Definitely not a guest house. I was about to leave, but then I noticed Mrs. Boswell was already there in the shadow of the trees, and I saw Grigsby coming out of the forest. Curious, I stopped to watch.
Mistress Leone stood near Mrs. Boswell. The cook smiled at her in greeting. Grigsby waited for them to be settled, then turned to the shed and said, “We’re all here.”
Clive came out of the shed, twisting a bit of string around his hand.
The others waited for him to speak, but Clive kept his head down and didn’t notice the three pairs of eyes watching him expectantly. When it was clear Clive would not begin on his own, Mistress Leone spoke. “You wished to see us alone?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to ask you. I mean…” Clive took a deep breath and started again. “If I were to marry, would I be able to stay on with my wife?”
Both Mistress Leone and Mrs. Boswell were smiling. I couldn’t see Grigsby’s face, but I had the impression that this wasn’t a surprise to any of them.
It was Grigsby who spoke. “Yes, I think we can assure you your job will remain unchanged if you were to marry a dependable girl.”
Clive looked up and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
Nothing sinister there, and more to the point, nothing about Panther. I motioned for Footstool to follow me back into the woods. When we were out of earshot, I started talking. “I wonder who it is. We’re probably the only ones in the house who don’t know. And we should probably take a round-about way back so they don’t think we were spying. If we can figure out how.” I looked around for something I recognized.
Footstool found a path a little ways away, which led us to the back of the rose garden and let us approach the house from the other direction. As we meandered toward the side door, I tried to figure out who Clive would propose to.
But I didn’t get very far before my mind wandered to a more interesting question. Why didn’t Clive ask the master for permission? Surely he had the final say in who stayed and who went. And the master was spoken of with such respect and affection, I couldn’t imagine that they would all go behind his back.
“Every time I find one answer, I end up with more questions.”
Footstool looked up at me, but this time he offered no comfort.
“Maybe I haven’t found the right question yet.”
Footstool rested against my leg for a moment, then r
an ahead, showing me the way to the door.
As soon as I opened the garden door, Phoebe sprang out at us. “Did they say … Oh, my lady. May I take your cloak?”
I handed it over, but Phoebe made no move to take the cloak to the closet. On our way up the stairs, I murmured to Footstool, “There’s one answer at least.”
*
Phoebe was still distracted when I saw her that evening. I took that to mean Clive hadn’t gotten around to telling her the result of his meeting. I hoped for her sake he was putting it off because he was planning something nice. I didn’t mind not having to talk as I got ready; I had plenty to think about myself. Unfortunately, I didn’t come up with any new ideas before I was sent out the door to the dining room.
Dinner was every bit as elegant as the night before, but Grigsby had limited the meal to a more reasonable five courses. The place setting was still there at the head of the table, but no one came to use it. When I had eaten as much of the lemon tart as I could manage after the soup, the cod, the salad, and the cheeses, Henry was there with a candle to take me to the library.
The fire had been lit in the hearth, and a table had been placed between the two chairs. The table held the small chest of teas, a cup and saucer painted with mauve and yellow roses, a matching teapot, and a small plate with a tea ball and spoon. The book I had started reading had been left on one chair, the same book and slippers set out by the other. As I selected a tea and prepared my cup, I wondered if their owner would decide to make an appearance tonight.
I had just left my tea to brew and was finding my place in my book when Mistress Leone came in.
“Was dinner satisfactory, my lady?”
She seemed genuinely concerned. “Yes, it was wonderful.”
“And is there anything else you require?”
I didn’t think she would tell me where Panther was if she hadn’t already, but I knew I had to try. “I was wondering when I would be able to see the panther I arrived with.”
“I will find out. Is there anything else?”
I shook my head before I’d thought it through, but there was nothing I wanted besides Panther’s whereabouts, and I didn’t think Mistress Leone would tell me that, no matter how often I asked.
“Then I will wish you a good night and allow you to return to your book. Henry will show you to your room when you are ready to retire.” She was gone before I could wish her a good night. By now my tea was ready, so I sipped it as I read my book.
*
The next morning I woke up without the sense of disorientation that was becoming normal. I knew I was in a manor house, and there were servants nearby, and no Panther. I hopped out of bed and went to the window. The gardens looked just the same, with the dark line of the forest behind them. Footstool was sitting by the fireplace, waiting for me to say good morning. When I smiled at him, he did a little bounce in greeting.
“I’m going to get dressed now.”
Footstool took the hint and went into the hallway.
I went to the wardrobe and looked through the dresses Phoebe had put in the front. I assumed those were the ones she thought would fit me. I pulled out a lavender dress with a slightly shorter skirt than the one I had worn the day before. I was just beginning to figure out what to do with the laces running down the back when Phoebe came in. She immediately took over the lacing.
“Mrs. Boswell has breakfast set up in the breakfast room when you’re ready for it.” She already had me laced up and steered me to the dressing table. I think she was humming. She was definitely still distracted, but with much happier thoughts. Clive must have gotten himself sorted out after I had gone to bed.
I wasn’t sure what to say to Phoebe as she brushed my hair and decided how to arrange it. I didn’t even know if I was supposed to talk to her; maybe small talk would distract her from her work. Maybe she didn’t want to discuss her engagement with me. And then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to know about it at all, and was glad I’d kept my mouth shut.
As I waited for Phoebe to finish my hair, I considered what Footstool and I had learned. Panther was not staying in the house, not as far as I could see. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought Panther had moved on without me. After all, I was relatively safe here; it wouldn’t be the worst place to be left.
In the mirror, I could see Footstool glance around the corner of the door. Seeing I was dressed he came in and sat by the fire. He was watching me and Phoebe. From the way he held himself, I knew that he wanted to talk to me, probably about my plans for today. He didn’t have any new ideas for finding Panther; I could tell by the droop to his shoulders and the heaviness in his step. I was taking those to be signs he was either missing Panther, or was worried about him. I could easily believe Panther would leave me behind. I could even accept that he might leave without telling me if he thought that was the only way to go without an argument (and it very well might have been.) But there was no way I would believe that he would leave Footstool behind, and even if he had some reason for leaving Footstool with me that I couldn’t think of, there was no way he would leave without telling his friend where he was going and why. So he had to be here, or something had happened to him after he left us.
Phoebe finished my hair and stepped back to have a look. I glanced back at the mirror.
“Thanks, it looks wonderful.” Phoebe was very good at being a lady’s maid. I wondered what her normal position was. There didn’t seem to be any ladies living here. I still felt funny just dismissing people, even though I had the feeling it was what they expected. “I’d like to finish the chapter I was on before I go down to breakfast. I think I can find my way.”
“Very well, my lady.” She curtsied and left the room.
I pretended to look for my book as Phoebe left and continued until I was sure she had really gone. Then I sat down on the hearth rug next to Footstool.
“Next time I need to remember to bring my book with me, just in case I need it for an excuse again. Any new ideas?”
He shook his head.
“Me neither. I guess I’ll go down and eat, then try to think. Maybe I’ll sit in the library. No one will bother me there. And if you come up with anything, let me know.”
Footstool nodded. He didn’t seem enthusiastic about the plan, but he didn’t make me feel bad about it either.
I got up and went to the door, then remembered I had dismissed my guide. I turned back to Footstool. “I think I over-estimated my ability to find my way around.”
Footstool shook a bit and I knew he was laughing at me; but, since he got up and went out the door ahead of me, then waited in the hall for me to catch up, I didn’t mind.
Chapter 11
When I had finished breakfast, I went back to the library and retrieved my book from the shelf. It was warm enough that a fire would have been too much, but I took my book to the deep chairs by the fireplace anyway. They were the most comfortable in the room. As I settled in, I noticed the other chair. I was used to seeing the slippers arranged by the footstool and the Laird Arthur mystery left on the seat. It had all been put away. That struck me as curious, but I ignored it as I opened to the ribbon marking my place and started to read. But the idea flitted around in my head. I had been assuming that the book and slippers had been left out by the master, waiting for his return, but that didn’t make sense. Why leave his things out and put mine away? Of course whoever was tidying up would put everything away or nothing.
I closed my book and looked at the chair. There was a more interesting question; why would they put his things out every night? I hadn’t seen the master, and I had the impression he was out somewhere, possibly with McNair, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was here and hiding from me. Maybe I was keeping him from his fire and his book.
But why were they still putting out his things? Were they thinking the recluse might be tempted out to see the new guest? For what purpose? Or was he coming down after I’d gone to bed? Did he insist on his routines being followed even if there
was no reason for it? I would have liked to know more about where I was staying and what I had gotten into.
If the master was here, there had to be more signs of his presence. Even if he was hiding behind his black-draped door, there had to be some indication he was around, besides a book that was taken out and put away every night. And if he was hiding, he still had to eat. I ran upstairs, hoping Footstool had gone to one of his normal haunts.
*
Footstool was resting by the table in the middle of my room. I suspected he could see out the window from that position. He sprang up as soon as he saw me. He looked so eager, I wished I had something more helpful to say. I sat down beside him. He could tell from my expression it wasn’t the kind of news he’d been hoping for, but he stayed optimistic.
I didn’t want to tell him I thought the master was there, but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it would get his hopes up if he thought there was someone who could help. I made my statement as neutral as possible. “I think there’s someone else in the house. The only room I haven’t been in is the master’s, so they could be there. And they have to eat.”
Footstool nodded quickly. I could see he knew what I was asking.
“I’m going to look around a little more, see what I can find.” I had no idea what there would be to find, but I couldn’t not do something now. “Would you mind watching the door for a little while? Just to see if it looks like someone’s inside.”
Footstool nodded again, then patted my hand with his fringe and left the room.
Now I had to find something to do. I wanted clues to the person staying here. So where would I find them? I had no idea. The library seemed like a good starting place. At least no one would find it strange.
As I passed the black draped door, I looked for Footstool. It took a minute before I found him, tucked away under an end table. No one would notice him if they weren’t looking for him. He was good at this.
Once I was in the library, I was at a loss. What would tell me the master was there? I looked around the room, trying to figure out what the master would do. What would be a clue that he was the mysterious someone the staff was taking care of?
Ella and the Panther's Quest Page 8