Servant of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  The shelves were stocked full of books, and Renfrew began to peruse the titles while they waited. Gerald was quite familiar with the library and yet was still impressed by it. Renfrew had other ideas, however. He looked over the titles, muttering, "Oh my, this will never do," and "this will have to go."

  The door opened, and Anna entered the room. "Your Highness," said Gerald bowing.

  Anna almost giggled when she saw his serious face; then she remembered that someone else was present. "And who do we have here?" she asked, trying to sound as imperious as she could.

  Renfrew turned to look at her. "William Renfrew, at your service, Highness." He bowed deeply. "I am here as your new tutor. I am instructed to teach you the skills of reading, writing and etiquette."

  Anna looked genuinely surprised. "I already know how to read and write, Mister Renfrew. I-”

  "With all due respect highness,” Renfrew interrupted, “that is for me to decide. It is important for a member of the Royal Family to learn how to behave. A royal is expected to be aloof, separate from the common man."

  Gerald could hold his tongue no more. "Horse shit!" he said. "A royal needs to learn how to lead, not be stuck up."

  Anna suppressed a laugh.

  Gerald could feel his face turning red. "With your permission, Your Highness," he said with exaggerated politeness, "I shall retire from the room. I am afraid I may have upset your delicate nature."

  Anna seemed to like the game. "Very well," she said, "you may return to your duties."

  As Gerald moved past her, she whispered, "I'll tell you all about it later."

  It was dinner time before he saw her again. He had just sat down at the dinner table. Hanson, as usual, was at the head of the table, and the other servants sat around in no particular order. As was customary, the seat at the opposite end of the table was left for Anna if she chose to use it.

  He could tell as soon as she entered that she was not happy. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her brow knitted in frustration. She sat down at the end of the table, a vacant stare in her eyes, not saying anything.

  Everyone looked around at each other and then at Gerald. They all knew that he was close to Anna. They wanted him to see what was bothering her. He finally gave in and asked the question everyone wanted him to ask. "How was your day today, Anna?"

  "Terrible!" she spat out as if she was tasting venom. "Renfrew treated me like an idiot. Had me reciting the alphabet and spelling words like dog and cat. I swear the man is an imbecile!"

  Nobody wanted to meet her gaze, they had never seen her this angry before. "And then he had me walk around with a book on my head. Told me it improved my posture." She turned to face Gerald directly. "You have to help me, Gerald, I can't stand it!"

  "I'm not sure there's much I can do, Anna. He’s here on orders from the Palace. I'm just a groundskeeper, and I can't tell him his job. Besides, if I spend more than a few moments with him I'm likely to punch him, and then where would we be?"

  The last statement, at least, made her smile.

  "Give it a few days," he continued, "perhaps he'll mellow a bit. He's trying to do what he thinks is necessary to make you into a princess."

  "But I don't want to be a princess; I just want to be me. I was having fun before he came along."

  "Still, you must give him some time. He'll realize soon enough that you can read and write. Besides, you never know when you might have to carry a book on your head, it's a useful skill." He smiled at her, and sure enough, she returned the smile.

  "All right, I'll give it a try, but I'm not too happy about it."

  At this exact time, Cook came in with the main serving, a generous plate of Mercerian pudding with thick cuts of meat and a heavy gravy. Her eyes went large. Gerald knew this was one of her preferred meals. He looked over at Cook, and she winked back. Mrs Brown always knew when to cook Anna's favourite. With the meal brought in, everyone tucked in. The table was generally like a free for all, with hands reaching across each other to snag the best slices of meat. Hanson took charge making sure to serve Anna first. She dug into her meal with gusto, soon forgetting the events of the day. Gerald had come to like these meals. When he first arrived, the staff had been distant, more guarded, but the shared experience of being at Uxley Hall had created a bond between them, and to Gerald, they had become a family. In some cases, a mildly dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless.

  As they were all finishing up the last of their plates, Anna spoke up, "Gerald, are you making a bonfire tonight?"

  "I suppose I could; I've got lots of loose branches ready to burn. Why?"

  "I thought maybe we could all go and have a sing-along. Mr Turner can play the fiddle, and Sophie is a really good singer. We could all have a campfire sing along. You can teach us some songs," she said with a hopeful tone. She leaned slightly forward, placing her elbows on the table and trying to look cute, but only partially succeeding.

  Gerald laughed. "All right, a campfire sing-along it is, but I have to warn you the only songs I know are of a more mature nature." This elicited laughter from the table. Looking around at the staff, he was aware that there would be lots of work to clean up from dinner. "Let's all help Mrs Brown clean up, and then maybe she'll bring along some desserts."

  Mrs Brown looked very pleased. It was well known that she always had pastries available as they were big favourites with Anna.

  The table erupted in a flurry of activity. Events of this nature did not occur very often, and soon all the dishes were cleared away. As the staff had engaged in this whirlwind of clearing, Gerald noticed that Hanson appeared a little pale. He walked over to the old man and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "Are you well Alistair? You look a little pale."

  The old man looked up at Gerald with appreciation in his eyes. "Just getting old, Gerald. I'm afraid I shall have to pass on the singing tonight. Perhaps another time?"

  "Of course, you're welcome anytime. Do you want some help getting to your room?"

  "No, no," Hanson shook his head, "I can make it there fine by myself. You run along with the rest and have some fun." He looked across at Anna who was waiting patiently. "The princess looks like she could use some."

  The old man rose from the table and headed off to an early bed. Gerald could hear a commotion in the kitchen, and he and Anna wandered in to see an astounded Cook watching the other servants, even the stable boys, washing up the dishes and plates. They had made her sit down and were singing a bawdy song while they worked. The song was about a Minstrel who seduced women, and each verse told of a wench he targeted. Every time they got to the end of the verse, Charles would pinch one of the maids, resulting in a shriek of laughter.

  Soon the kitchen was squared away, and the troupe wandered outside, heading towards the cottage. Gerald had gathered sticks and brambles earlier in the day, and it only took a moment to start the fire. The yellow flames soon licked their way through the pile, the bonfire growing in intensity quickly. As the flames leaped higher, Jim Turner produced his fiddle and was soon sawing away at a jaunty pace. The maids started dancing around, enticing the men to join in. Even Cook got into the spirit. Anna was laughing hysterically as Mrs Brown, led by Owen Bellamy, was strutted around the fire.

  Gerald had seen plenty of bonfires in his time, but this was magical. Never could he remember people just enjoying themselves so much, not worrying about what the next day might bring. It warmed his heart to be in such company, and he could see Anna taking it all in, watching every face and beaming with pride. These were her people, her family, and she fit right in.

  The party lasted well into the night. Gerald ended up carrying Anna back to the Hall, as he had on multiple occasions. He had told her numerous times that she needed to go to bed, but she didn't want to miss all the excitement. With the help of Sophie, he carried her to her room, laying her on her bed. Sophie pulled the blankets over her, making sure she was comfortable. They didn't worry about changing her for fear she would wake up. "L
et her sleep," Sophie had insisted. "It won't hurt her to wear her clothes to bed. It's not like she hasn't done it before."

  They waited until Tempus had made himself comfortable on the bed by her feet, then tiptoed out of the room. Sophie carried the candlestick that lit their way, with Gerald following just behind her. The young girl stopped suddenly causing Gerald to lightly bump into her. He had been looking back into Anna's room and now turned to see what the problem was.

  Standing in the hallway, his hands on his hips, was Renfrew. He had a stern look on his face, and his fury erupted on Sophie.

  "What is the meaning of this!" he said in a loud voice, not quite yelling but intimidating her all the same. "How dare you treat the princess like this!"

  In all likelihood, he had not seen Gerald behind Sophie, for Renfrew raised his hand to slap the young maid across the face. The girl visibly flinched as the hand came crashing toward her, stopped at the last moment in Gerald’s firm grip. Gerald stared at the man and grinned. In the flickering candlelight, the groundskeeper must have looked terrifying with his full beard and unkempt hair.

  "Give me a reason Renfrew," he threatened, "and you'll know what it's like to be slapped."

  Even in the dim light, he could see Renfrew pale. The man turned and ran down the hallway, not saying a word. Gerald looked at the young maid. "It's all right Sophie; you're not in any trouble. You can head off to bed."

  She curtsied slightly and ran off back to her room before the wicked Mister Renfrew could harass her again.

  Gerald stood for a moment thinking, he had probably just made a big mistake and hoped Anna would not pay the price.

  The next morning Gerald was up early. One of the ditches at the back of the Hall had become clogged up with leaves, and he needed to free the flow of water for drainage. It took most of the day to clean up the mess; the wet soggy leaves proved tenacious in their ability to cling together, refusing the efforts of his rake. So busy was he that he didn't even break for lunch, only completing his arduous task when he heard the dinner bell ringing. He had been so consumed with his task that he hadn't noticed the time of day.

  He made his way, exhausted but pleased with his efforts, to the servant’s dining hall. He was careful to remove his boots, which were caked in mud and water-logged leaves, leaving them in the rear entryway. Arriving at the dining hall, he found most of the staff already in place. He sat down and smiled at Cook as she put a hot soup in front of him, its aroma drifting up to pleasantly tickle his nose and tease his stomach which suddenly decided it was hungry. Everyone else had already started their meal, so he dug in. It was after he had eaten a few spoonfuls that he realized that Anna was missing.

  "Is Anna not joining us tonight?" he asked Hanson.

  Mrs Brown let out a small sob and rose from her chair, quickly exiting to the kitchen.

  Hanson looked at Gerald with a sad face. "I'm afraid the princess will no longer be joining us for dinner, Gerald. She will be eating in the formal dining hall, as befits one of her station."

  "Let me guess," Gerald frowned, "this was Renfrew's decision."

  Hanson nodded, too upset to speak. The whole mood of the table was down, standing in stark contrast to the enjoyment of yesterday.

  Gerald put his spoon down and made to rise, but Hanson, who was sitting right beside him, placed his hand on his forearm and spoke. "Don't Gerald, you'll only make it worse for Anna."

  Gerald was shocked and saddened but heeded the old man’s advice. "Anything else I should be aware of?" he asked.

  It was Sophie who spoke up. "She must wear a proper dress from now on, and is not allowed to go outside."

  "What about Tempus?" Gerald asked.

  "He's not allowed in the room with her during the day," Sophie added.

  "Poor girl," added Hanson, "she must be lost without him."

  "This is ridiculous!" fumed Gerald. "There must be something we can do."

  He looked around, but everyone either shook their heads or looked away in shame. There had to be something that Gerald could do, but he was at a loss as to what that would be.

  He managed to finish his dinner but didn't taste any of it. He made his way back to the cottage and found himself restless. If the truth be told, he had become so used to Anna's visits that now that she wasn't there, he felt lonely. He had only had a few close friends during his life and even fewer that were still alive. He decided to read a book, to take his mind off of things, but every time he opened a book, he remembered how he had used it to teach Anna how to read. He had accepted his loneliness before, but now that he had experienced friendship, he felt its loss ever more keenly.

  It was late when there was a knock. Gerald’s heart leaped a little with hope as he made his way to the door, but he was disappointed when he opened it to reveal young Sophie’s face.

  She almost whispered as she spoke, "Gerald, you must come with me. Anna wants to see you, but we have to be quiet. She'll meet us in the trophy room."

  Gerald had no clue where the trophy room was, but he put on his boots and coat and followed.

  The south wing of Uxley Hall had a sun room, a large room with many glass windows. It was added more than 150 years ago by the Lady of the Hall. It had seen little use since but provided a second entrance to the rear of the Hall. It was to here that Sophie brought him. They entered the room, and Gerald could see furniture covered in sheets. The large glass windows, which must have cost a fortune, were thick with dust and the room had not seen a cleaning for many years. The door they entered through was on the south side of the sun room, for the room itself jutted out from the bulk of the house, evidently added long after the original construction. Along the same wall, but inside the central portion of the Hall, was another door which Sophie indicated with her hand.

  "Go through there," she said, pointing to the door. "It leads to the old mud room, across from that you’ll find the trophy room."

  He nodded his thanks and made his way through the door. The mudroom must have, at one time, been a rear entrance. It was sparse of furniture and reminded him of the entry to the servant’s quarters, except the bench was of finer quality, and there were some paintings on the wall. He stopped to check his boots, but they were long since dry and free of leaves. He opened the door at the other end of the room and entered the trophy room.

  As he stepped in, he felt a chill pass over him. Eyes stared down at him from heads mounted on the wall. He could see a bear, elk, even a boar head, all staring down at him with their lifeless eyes.

  Gerald had never been impressed with hunting trophies. Perhaps he had learned this from Baron Fitzwilliam, for the baron had no problem with hunting for food, but had little patience for trophies. Gerald remembered an occasion where one of the knights, Sir Michael, had bagged himself a stag of which the knight was quite proud. He brought just the head back to boast of his prowess, and the baron saw him enter the keep. Lord Fitzwilliam was furious. He had scolded the man for the kill; it had no purpose, he said, he had not even brought back the meat. He made the knight bury the stag while the other knights watched. Gerald had asked him about it later, and the baron had revealed his belief that all things must live in balance. If they fall out of balance, he had said, nature will find a way to redress it. The words had stuck with Gerald throughout his career, and so now he looked on the trophies, not as objects of wonder, but of disgust.

  He was reminiscing on this very thought when he heard the click of a door handle. He turned to see Anna entering. She was in her nightshirt and robe, and when she saw Gerald, she ran over and hugged him. Even Tempus seemed to smile, though thankfully he didn’t bark or else the whole Hall would have been awoken. She hugged him for a few moments then finally let go, a big smile on her face. "I'm so glad you came Gerald. I was worried you wouldn't show up."

  Gerald returned the smile and patted Tempus on the head. The great dog sat down on the rug, and Anna crouched down beside him, absently rubbing his back.

  "It's terrible!" she announced with
gusto. "The mans a tyran, tran, no tian"

  "Tyrant?" Gerald offered.

  "Yes, a tyrant," she confirmed. "He won't even let me out of the house, and poor Tempus is stuck all by himself."

  "I'm afraid there's little I can do Anna, and I hate to say it, but it may be all my fault. I had an altercation with him when he tried to slap Sophie, and now he's taking it out on me, through you." He was crestfallen that he had caused this sad situation.

  Anna looked at him with wisdom that seemed to transcend her young age. She placed a hand on his forearm and looked up at him. "It's all right Gerald. It's not your fault. He's the one that's being the… what's the word I'm looking for?"

  "Horse’s ass?" he offered.

  She giggled out loud, then quickly covered her mouth to keep quiet. Even so, a small chortle escaped.

  "Yes, definitely that. I think Renfrew's face looks like a horse too. Maybe I should call him horse face."

  "No Anna, that will only make things worse. What time do your lessons finish?" he asked.

  “Not till dinner time, and then he sits in the king’s library and makes me read after I've had my meal. He makes me sit in the formal dining room, all by myself, and have the servants bring in the food. Just for me! It's so unfair! He tried to get Tempus to leave while I was eating, but Tempus wouldn't have any of it, would you boy," she scratched Tempus under the chin as she said this.

  "I can't think of any way to rectify the situation Anna, but I’ll continue to think about it. In the meantime, do you think you can sneak back here? I'll come here each evening about this time. Renfrew must be in his room by now. At least we can talk, and you can share your day with me. I'll try to bring you some treats from Cook tomorrow."

  "Alright," she agreed, "but can you take Tempus during the day? He doesn't like to be alone, and at least I'll know you’re taking care of him. You can bring him back into the Hall at dinner time. He'll know where to find me. I'll send him to the kitchen in the morning. You can find him there when you go for breakfast."