The larger servant shuffled closer. “Myrtle, she really does, doesn’t she?”
The third lady joined her friends. They gawked at Halle as if she was on display for auction. She folded her arms. “So how long did this man work here?”
“Oh, a good year, I’m sure.”
“At least.” Myrtle nodded. “And he was the nicest man.”
“Such a charmer, that one.” The short woman blushed. “He flirted a lot with that hoity-toity Miss Fridal.”
“In fact, Nellie, did you hear that Miss Fridal found herself in the motherly way not long after Bill left?”
The other women gasped. Halle rolled her eyes. Even if this was her father, it wasn’t like he was still married to her mother. Halle was sure he had his own life by now.
“But I didn’t know he was married, or had a child for that matter,” Nellie said.
“My parents split when I was very little,” Halle said. “I have never met him. I thought I’d get to meet him during my stay here, but he’s nowhere to be found now.” If Will Chapman was using a different name while he worked here, that would explain why nobody knew who he was. Yet, why would he use another name?
Once again, the three ladies passed glances amongst themselves. Myrtle scratched her head and held a faraway expression as if she was deep in thought.
“Actually,” the shorter woman said. “I recall him saying something about returning home.”
“Oh, yes. I remember now!” Myrtle cheered. “He did say he would be leaving.”
“Did he say where?” Halle probed.
Myrtle shook her head and frowned, then the other two followed suit.
“Well, if this Bill Stratford was my father, I wonder why he changed his name,” Halle whispered aloud.
“I wish we could help you, dearie. But Bill just up and left without even telling us good-bye.” The larger woman said with a wistful sigh.
“How long ago did he leave?” Halle wondered.
“About a month.”
Halle forced herself to smile. “Thank you for talking to me, anyway. At least you three knew a man who had worked here for a year, even if he had a different name.”
Feeling despondent, her shoulders drooped as she walked out of the kitchen; her mind whirling in confusion. Could this Bill really have been her father? Will was short for William, but then Bill was also a shortened name for William. So where did Stratford come from?
With a sinking heart, she didn’t think she would find him now. Although the trip here hadn’t been wasted, she had still hoped to kill two birds with one stone, so-to-speak.
Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to find her father at all. Maybe if she knew the reasons he left her and her mother all those years ago, she would hate him for sure.
Not watching where she was going, she turned the corner, and ran into someone. Unbalanced, she tilted, but two strong arms grasped her arms to keep her from falling.
“Thank you—” Her thoughts stopped in her head and she gazed upon the familiar face. She smiled. “Andrew.”
“Good heavens, Halle. What are you doing back in this area? Did you not see the signs?” He pointed up the hallway.
“Yes, I saw them, but I ignored them.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to ask more people about my father.”
“And… Did you get some answers?”
She frowned. “Yes and no. The cooks didn’t know a man named Will Chapman, but they said there had been a man who’d worked here for about a year who resembled me. His name was Bill Stratford.”
“Do you think Mr. Stratford is your father?”
“I wish I knew.” She sighed heavily. “Without knowing exactly what he looks like, it’s hard to know for sure.”
A tender smile graced his face as he stroked her cheek. “Why don’t you allow me to ask some questions for you? I’m quite certain I will gather more information because I work here.”
“Andrew, you are brilliant.”
He winked. “All right then. I will catch up to you later in the day and let you know what I have discovered.”
Halle grasped his hands and squeezed. “Thank you, Andrew. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
As she walked away, her heart felt lighter, and hope was in sight. Of course, she wondered if she felt this way because Andrew was helping her. Once again, thinking of that man made her smile.
* * * *
Andrew was kept busy all afternoon, but that helped when asking his co-workers questions about Halle’s father. Nobody had heard of Will Chapman, yet there were a lot who knew Bill Stratford. Andrew couldn’t wait to find Halle and tell her what he had discovered.
But when he went to her room, she was gone. Andrew hurried to the main floor to see if she was there, but she wasn’t. He glanced over at the front desk. Nigel had been watching him and quickly lowered his gaze to the papers in front of him. Scratching his head, Andrew didn’t know why Nigel acted this way around him. Every time he’d tried to speak with the man, Nigel had always acted as if he were too good and turned away.
Nevertheless, Andrew needed some answers, and the word around the manor was that Nigel knew everything. Andrew took long strides to the front desk. As always, Nigel tried to pretend he wasn’t there.
“Nigel, have you seen Miss Chapman and her friends this morning?”
“Who?” Nigel asked in a gruff voice and turned his face toward the wall as if studying the announcement flyers hanging on the cork-board.
“You know Miss Chapman. She and her friends are from America.”
“Oh her. Not too long ago, I saw them leave in a cab. I believe I heard them talking about going into town.”
“I thank you for the information, Nigel.”
Disheartened, Andrew kept busy, trying not to think of Halle. That woman had captured his heart in such a short time. Never had anything like this happened to him. He wondered if it had something to do with knowing how short life was—especially his at the moment. He didn’t know when he’d die, and he really didn’t want to die without knowing love. He wasn’t certain if he truly loved Halle, but she had definitely grabbed hold of his heart in some strange way.
He walked back outside and sat on the steel bench underneath his favorite tree. As always, being here made him feel closer to his family. Nothing made sense as to why he was brought here in this century, and he was tired of trying to figure it out.
Closing his eyes, he thought of his family. How he missed them. Yes, he even missed Edward. Andrew missed the relaxed life they had lived back in those days. In this century, everything was rushed. Nobody took time out for themselves. What an insane, busy world.
If Halle had lived in his century, would he have noticed her? Would he have found her lovely? Andrew wanted to believe he would have. She was a very beautiful woman. Very intelligent. And she had a fun personality. But back in his day, he didn’t find that kind of woman interesting. Instead, he had wanted them beautiful, yes, but very mild-mannered. And definitely the woman needed to easily fall at his feet when he charmed her.
A noise from the circular drive pulled Andrew from his thoughts. A cab pulled up in front of the manor and stopped. When the driver opened the door and Halle exited, his heart knocked against his ribs in an unhealthy beat. Her friends also climbed out with arms full of shopping bags.
He rushed toward her, trying not to appear like an over-eager young lad. When Halle saw him, a wide smile stretched across her face, making her green eyes twinkle.
Andrew stopped in front of her, glancing from her friends, back to her. “It appears you were in town shopping.”
“Yes, we were.” Halle beamed. “Colin and Sam now have costumes for the ball tomorrow night.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “But my gown is prettier, I think.”
He chuckled. “Of course it is.” He held out his hand. “Let me assist you with those bags.” He took two from her and three from Samantha. “I trust you all had a lovely time?”
&nb
sp; “Oh, yes!” Samantha said. “I’m having so much fun in England. Wish I could live here always.”
“Not me,” grumbled Colin. “The women are not very nice at all.” He stormed into the manor ahead of the others.
Halle tried to hide a smile as she walked beside Andrew. “He flirted with a few women in town,” she explained, “but they refused his advances.”
“How old is he?” Andrew whispered.
“He’s a year younger than I am.”
“I fear he’s not mature enough.” Andrew shrugged. “Give him a few years, and then the women will be flocking to him.”
Halle laughed. “Don’t tell him that. It will give him an oversized ego.”
He walked with Halle and her friend to their rooms. Andrew handed Samantha her bags once she entered her room, then he turned back to assist Halle. Once they entered her room, he set her bag on the bed.
“I have been waiting for you all afternoon,” he finally said.
Her gaze jumped to his. “Why? Did you find out something?”
“Well, if Bill Stratford is indeed your father, he has a room here at Buckland Manor. Some of us actually rent rooms in the basement and live here, while the other staff lives nearby.”
“So Bill Stratford didn’t have a family or anyone to go home to each night?”
“No. From what I can tell, his family was his co-workers at the manor.” He stepped closer to her. “But since he’s been gone, nobody has taken over his room. Apparently, Miss Fridal convinced the manager of Buckland Manor not to rent it to anyone. Miss Fridal thinks Bill Stratford will return.” Andrew slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a key. “Do you want to take a look inside his room?”
“Of course, I do!” She grasped his hand without actually taking the key.
“I shall take you there, but I cannot stay and search his room with you. I fear I must return to my duties before the staff start thinking I’m not doing my work properly.”
“I totally understand.” Her smile made her green eyes sparkle.
As they left her room, she hooked her arm through his. He couldn’t stop the grin sneaking across his face. She acted like it was normal to touch him in such a way. His heart hammered in excitement. “Halle, there’s something else I must tell you, whether or not it links to your father, it’s what the other servants mentioned.”
She met his stare and cocked her head. “What is it?”
They stepped into the elevator, and he pressed the button to the bottom floor. The doors closed and the uncomfortable contraption started to move. Andrew’s stomach jumped and dizziness tried to invade his head. He’d never get used to this blasted machine!
“The day Bill Stratford disappeared,” he continued, hoping that if he talked, these uneasy sensations would leave, “the security guards found an item missing in the museum. Apparently, there was a glass case that held my father—the Duke of Harrington’s journals. The case was broken and the journals were missing.” He shrugged. “Nobody actually knows if Bill Stratford took these, but they found it coincidental that it happened the same day.”
Halle frowned. “That is very odd, but it’s too coincidental to ignore. If Bill is my father, and he worked here a year, he had plenty of opportunity to take those journals—or anything of value at Buckland Manor.”
Andrew nodded. “Those were my sentiments exactly.”
“Do you know if the duke’s journals were important—or what they had inside them?”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Andrew hurried out of the large box-style contraption and out in the hall, taking deep breaths. As Halle stopped beside him, he turned to face her. Glancing up and down the hallway, he made sure they were alone before continuing. “I don’t know what they contained, however,” he lowered his voice, “if they had anything in them about where the ancient jewels were hidden, that would make these journals priceless.”
She nodded. “You make a good point there. On the other hand, if my father had stolen these journals, that would make him a thief—just like most of his ancestors had been.”
He stroked her cheek, not liking to see her frown. “But we are jumping to conclusions, sweet Halle. He probably didn’t take the journals at all.”
Immediately, he lost his breath, and in recovering it, he started to cough. Unable to get it under control right away, he withdrew a handkerchief and covered his mouth. Finally, the coughing subsided and he pulled the handkerchief away. Spots of blood were visible against the whiteness of the cloth.
Halle gasped and clutched his arm. “Andrew, what’s wrong with? You…coughed up blood.”
“Yes, I know,” he answered, feeling drained once again. “This has happened a few times lately. I shall be fine, I assure you.”
“Have you seen a doctor?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Well, if you don’t I’m going to physically take you to the hospital.”
He smiled. “Then I promise to see one soon.” He handed her the room key. “Now search his room and see what you can find. If you need me, I shall be outside by my tree.”
“Thank you. I truly appreciate your help.”
It made his heart light to see her smile and how her eyes twinkled. If only…
He shook the thought out of his head as he walked away from her. He couldn’t think of if only any longer or it would certainly depress him—worse than knowing he’d never get back to his own time and save his family…and worse than knowing he was dying, quicker than he’d first thought.
Chapter Six
Halle turned the key and opened the door.
Poor Andrew. Why was he so sick? She wished she could help him, but didn’t think she could.
As she stepped into the small room, she noticed there was only one window, so she flipped the switch on the wall to bring more light. The overhead bulb glowed brightly as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her hands trembled slightly, so she clasped them together and held them against her belly. Was Bill Stratford really her father, or was she snooping through a stranger’s room? And worse…after he’d been gone almost a month, would he suddenly return and walk in on her?
She prayed not.
The man—this stranger—didn’t have pictures of family on his walls or shelves to let her know if this was really Will Chapman. A few books lay on his bed stand. Glancing at the title and book cover, she shivered. The book appeared to be a science fiction, horror type of story. Apparently, he wasn’t into history like Halle.
Releasing a pent-up sigh, she walked to his dresser and pulled out the top drawer. She might as well begin somewhere, and here was a good place to start. But she didn’t want to touch any of his clothes. So she found a pencil and moved them around that way.
After searching through all four drawers and finding only clothes, she moved to the small closet. Two pair of shoes were on the floor—a pair of white athletic shoes, and a dressier pair of loafers. Not many clothes hung in the closet, either. Back in the corner on the floor was a large suitcase.
Confusion filled her, so she pulled it out and lifted the top. If he knew he was leaving, why didn’t he take anything? Very strange behavior, indeed! To her great disappointment, nothing was in the suitcase so she scooted it back where she’d found it. While she was kneeling on the floor, she turned and glanced under his bed. Nothing.
Frustrated, she stood and planted her hands on her hips. There wasn’t a lot of space for her to look. For someone who had lived here a year, why didn’t he have more personal belongings?
Grumbling, she sat on the edge of his bed, tapping her foot in irritation. Obviously, searching through this man’s room accomplished nothing.
As she moved to stand, something beneath her shifted. She sprang to her feet as her heart jumped to her throat. What on earth…
Cautiously, she placed her hand on the mattress to feel the odd lumps where she’d just been sitting. Something wasn’t right at all.
She lifted the covers, but still didn’
t see anything, so she lifted the mattress. Once again, nothing. Yet, there was something there that she’d been sitting on.
Kneeling to the side of the mattress, she studied it closer as she continued to lift it. Down, almost to the middle of the mattress, she noticed a big rip. She pulled the mattress off the frame and awkwardly flipped it over. Thank goodness this wasn’t anything like her bed back home. There was no way she could have done this by herself. It surprised her to think the manager at Buckland Manor didn’t give his staff better bedding than this.
Halle worked her hand in the rip and followed the path toward the bulky objects that were definitely not supposed to be in a mattress. Although she didn’t want to discover her father was a thief, she did want to discover something about him.
Then again, she really didn’t know for sure if Bill Stratford was her father or not.
When her fingers bumped against the square, leather object, she grasped it and pulled it out, her heart dropping the closer it came. By the time she withdrew the object, she knew what it was.
Frowning, she stared at the worn black leather book cover. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know this was a very historic item. Carefully, she opened to the front page. Scrolled in fine penmanship was written George Merrick, Duke of Harrington, 1847.
Eighteen forty-seven? That was a year before a mob attacked Andrew’s family. Dare she take this back to her room to read? Would she find the location of the Merrick ancient family jewels?
Halle patted the mattress to see if there was anything else hidden in there, but she didn’t detect anymore. She even checked his pillow, but came up with nothing.
In a rush, she put the bed back together, then hurried and left the room, holding the worn leather journal against her breast. After entering the elevator, thoughts filled her head. If Bill had found the jewels, perhaps that’s why he left all of his belongings behind—because he didn’t need them any longer. But what if he hadn’t found the jewels? What could be his reasons for leaving everything?
An ache pounded in her forehead, and she knew if she thought about this too much, she’d get a migraine. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to read the journal. Hopefully, that would give her some clue to where her father—or Bill—had gone next.
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