Pierce was able to make his retreat along the hallway and down the stairs before Dr. Cleaver opened the door. He quickly sat back down in the Manor’s reserved snug ready to act as nonchalant as he could. However the Doctor did not appear. Pierce waited a few more minutes, fighting the urge to see what was keeping him.
He took another drink of his ale, trying to calm himself and slow his racing mind. It was swirling from the information he had overheard. He had felt an immediate curiosity for Dr. Cleaver at his first appearance and their subsequent walk to the village. That curiosity turned to suspicion when the doctor had mentioned a meeting in town. Surely he was the type of man that had people visit him, especially in the grandeur of the Manor where he could project his superiority and make a mental impact on his guest. So when the meeting turned out to be taking place in secluded upstairs room of a pub, he had decided to find out more.
Despite being both an outsider and a new member of the Manor, Pierce had found no difficulty in quietly slipping away from his place in the pub and following Jane up to the meeting place.
That girl again, he thought. She had seemed many things during their previously brief encounters, but never the devious underling that he had just overheard. At first he had felt ashamed creeping up to the closed door to eavesdrop on the interview. That feeling immediately changed when it became obvious that the meeting was between Jane and the Doctor. But he had only been able to hear the sound of voices at first, followed by their discussion about him when Cleaver had been beside the door, then muffled voices again.
From the time he had arrived at the Manor, Pierce’s only thought had been to get back home. But after overhearing their plans, he wasn’t convinced such drastic action was in his best interest. There were obviously powerful forces at work trying to both keep him here and get rid of him. Crossing one group might be just as harmful to him as crossing the other. The best thing to do was to stay vigilant and get a complete appreciation of his situation. To do that he’d stick with his plan of going along with whatever was presented to him while he tried to figure things out.
With that decided he finished off his drink and prepared to leave. But blocking his exit was Jane holding a pair of drinks.
“I hope this isn’t too forward sir, but I took the liberty of pouring you another drink and thought I could join you. I imagine you’re still feeling a little lost and maybe a friendly face could help you out.” She beamed a smile at Pierce that made him doubt the conversation he had just heard.
“Yes. I mean of course. You can sit and join me I mean,” he replied with his usual sophisticated banter. “But please call me Patrick if that’s easier. I don’t think I could stand being called sir. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“Well you’ve been awarded a great honour. The Hunt has very few members and it’s very exclusive. People around these parts have always called the Hunt members lord or lady.”
“Well don’t let the clothing fool you, I’m no duke or anything,” he said taking a drink.
“So what are you planning on doing?” She enquired taking a sip of her own drink.
Pierce was shocked by the quickness and subtlety of the question. The sincerity of her voice made him almost believe the question was asked benevolently. Had he not overheard the conversation of a few minutes ago he would surely answered truthfully.
“Well, can I tell you a secret?” he asked hesitantly. “I’m planning on leaving as soon as the first chance comes up. I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. I’m sure everyone around here is very nice, but I’m a little freaked out. Plus I heard something about poison…”
“Yes, the poison story,” she said leaning back slightly, attempting to convey a sense of openness. “I can tell you it’s nothing but a foolish tale and I don’t believe a word of it. I have worked for many years at the Manor and I’ve never heard the members speak of it with anything other than contempt or humour.”
“Yes, but what is the story?”
“Well, like any tale, there are many versions of it. One says that to maintain the loyalty of the Hunt, the Master poisons each new recruit and hides the antidote, providing it only at designated times. Another one is that the island itself poisons those who live here in exchange for long life. If you leave the island your life is halved and cursed.”
“From everything I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t sound that far fetched,” voiced Pierce. However Jane was now fully engrossed in her recounting of the many poison tales.
“But the best one is that the poison is actually a vampiric bite and the members are all vampires. The antidote is of course blood and they must travel through portals to feed on people in the outside world. One of the parlour maids really believed this and tried to convince the rest of the staff. But the Manor is full of mirrors, the cutlery all silver, and garlic is a regular ingredient in their meals. Silly girl.”
“Drummond himself told me I had been poisoned. That’s why I punched him.”
“Sounds like a bluff to me. Why would they poison someone they just recruited? It makes no sense.”
“I guess that’s fair. Well if I make it back home and die of poisoning I’ll blame you.”
“But I didn’t… I wouldn’t… Ah you’re joking,” she recovered awkwardly.
“Sorry, I guess it wasn’t that funny.” They both sat quietly sipping at their drinks, then Jane started to chuckle and had to put hers down.
“It really wasn’t that funny, you don’t have to laugh,” Pierce said self-deprecatingly.
“Oh I’m not laughing at your joke,” she replied still chuckling. “I’m thinking of how you punched Mr. Drummond. I had a meeting with him afterwards. He was trying to be serious and conduct himself in his usual condescending fashion, but his nose was taped and is eyes were bruised up.” The chuckle started to turn to regular laughter. “He looked like a raccoon that had been caught in a trash bin and whipped for it.”
Remembering his own meeting with Drummond where he had offered his insincere apology, Pierce thought the description apt and started laughing himself.
They continued to share similarly humorous stories as they finished their drinks. When both glasses sat empty upon the table, Jane stood up and collected them.
“Well, my break is over. I had better get back to work; the evening rush will soon be here. And if you don’t hurry you’ll be walking up to the Manor in the dark.”
Pierce turned and looked out the window and saw that dusk was indeed fast approaching.
“Will you be here if I wanted to visit you again?” inquired Pierce, losing the timidity that would ordinarily silence him. He remembered watching many film noires where the hard boiled detective falls for the femme fatale, despite knowing she’s up to no good. He’d always thought it a Hollywood contrivance and that no man with a half a brain would act that way. Until now.
“I’d like that,” she replied quickly, forgetting the cool reserve she needed to employ. In order to cover the slight slip she turned towards the bar to drop off the empty glasses and continue her work.
A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1) Page 18