All Is Fair

by Dee Garretson

  “Yes, we must rescue the hat,” Lucas said. “Jove, you are a rascal, aren’t you?” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “After you, Miss Mina.”

  The tingly feeling increased. I took a step out the door.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  LUCAS FOLLOWED ME out on the terrace and then onto the lawn. Jove, of course, came with us, trailing at Lucas’s heels. Lucas had been right. It was nice to breathe fresh air. The grounds were so still, they could have been a landscape painting. Mr. Applewhite had mowed recently and the lawn was lovely in the bright moonlight, a smooth expanse where we had played croquet and hosted our lawn parties. I held on to the thought that someday we’d do those things again.

  “Do you play croquet?” I blurted out.

  Lucas chuckled. “Why? Do the English have a night version of it? I’d be willing for a game instead of going back inside.”

  “No,” I said, though the thought of night croquet did sound rather fun, especially with Lucas.

  As we walked, I began to tell him all about the lawn parties, wanting to prolong the moment. I decided we needed to make an entire circuit of the back lawn. After all, when a guest needed fresh air, I should be a good hostess and provide it.

  He pulled again at his tie. “You don’t have to dress up for those lawn parties, do you?”

  I was about to answer him when a sound caught my attention. It was like a faint moan, the kind of sound I heard in the woods when the wind was blowing. But there was no wind and we weren’t in the woods.

  The sound came again. I stopped. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “No,” Lucas said.

  I put my hand on his sleeve. “Wait.”

  I looked down at Jove. His ears were pricked up and he was looking toward the old icehouse. It had been designed to fit into the landscape like a grotto, though why a grotto would be at the edge of the lawn was never explained. We didn’t use it any longer, and vines had grown up over most of it, though Mr. Applewhite kept them pruned enough that the steep steps leading down to the door were clear. I started toward it. Another moan. I broke into a run, Lucas following. When we reached the steps, I looked down into the cavity, but it was too dark to see the bottom. The moan came again.

  My heart skipped a beat. I remembered that Mr. Applewhite had grumbled about the steps before, complaining that whoever had built the icehouse had never gone down steps made slippery with rain and moss.

  Lucas bounded down the steps and knelt before I could tell him to be careful. “It’s a girl with dark hair,” he called up.

  I came down as quickly as I could—it was slippery. When I knelt down next to Lucas, I saw that it was Lettie lying there. She opened her eyes. “I hoped someone would come,” she said. “I’ve been calling and calling.”

  My heart picked up speed, pounding as I tried to think of what to do. “I’ll go get help,” I said, and ran back inside. I knew Lucas and I wouldn’t be able to get Lettie up those narrow steps ourselves.

  The next hour went by in a blur. Andrew and Lucas carried Lettie up to her room. Miss Tanner telephoned for a doctor while Mrs. Brickles saw to Lettie. The pallor of the girl’s face frightened me. She was very, very still and no longer conscious.

  We all clustered outside the room looking in until Miss Tanner politely shooed us away when the doctor arrived. I recounted to the others how we had found her, as if that would help in some way. It didn’t, of course.

  As we went back downstairs, I was struck by the emptiness of the servants’ quarters. I hadn’t been up to them in ages. There were rooms for a dozen housemaids, but with only Hannah and Lettie, that section of the house had the same unsettling quiet as the rest of the place.

  We sat down in the drawing room, waiting for some news. I feared how Margaret would react, but she actually held herself together, even convincing Gwendolyn and Lucas to play cards with her. She also decreed that everyone drop all formality and call each other by their given names. Such a small gesture did seem to lessen some of the tension. Both Gwendolyn and Lucas appeared more at ease. I couldn’t begin to concentrate, so I sat with a book, not seeing the pages. Andrew went back to smoking what seemed to be endless cigarettes.

  I jumped up when Miss Tanner finally came into the room. “How is she?”

  “The doctor says Lettie is concussed, but he thinks she will recover,” she said. “There is nothing more to be done tonight. Mrs. Brickles is sitting with her until we can get one of Lettie’s sisters to come tomorrow.”

  “I can sit with her too,” I said. “Mrs. Brickles shouldn’t be up all night.” I had to do something to help, even if it was just sitting next to Lettie’s bed.

  “That won’t be necessary, Lady Thomasina,” Miss Tanner said. “There is the extra bed in Lettie’s room where Mrs. Brickles can rest if she wants. And I’m sure Lettie would be more comfortable with her sister. She wouldn’t want to impose upon you.”

  I knew I needed to stay calm because that was what would be expected of me, but I had been trying to make sense of what happened. “Why did Lettie go to the icehouse?” I blurted out.

  Miss Tanner frowned. “I don’t know, Lady Thomasina. Now, if there is nothing else, I’ll go see to the kitchen.”

  “There’s nothing else,” Margaret said, standing up. “I’m going up to bed. We all should.” Margaret’s voice had taken on the tone of a hostess in command, and everyone obeyed her. We trooped upstairs.

  Even though I was exhausted, once I was in my room I couldn’t sleep. What did Lucas think of all this? And why was he, an American with loads of charm who didn’t appear to know enough about aeroplanes to design them, here to prepare for a secret mission? I felt a little like Mrs. Underdown trying to fit people into their proper places. I couldn’t figure out where Lucas fit.

  The sound of a motorcar coming down the drive drew me to the window. At first I thought the doctor might have been summoned back, but the vehicle had its lights off. As it came close to the house, the driver switched off the engine so that it glided to a stop. Margaret came out of the house with a coat on. A man in uniform got out and took her in his arms, kissing her. After a moment, the two of them got in and drove off.

  So Hannah had been right about my sister having a secret sweetheart. I supposed Margaret thought I was still too young to confide in, though I’d have kept her secret even if I didn’t understand why she didn’t want anyone to know. She was a widow, after all, and there was nothing wrong with her meeting a man. I suspected he was the real reason Margaret had left London. He was also probably the reason Margaret hadn’t been happy to see me come home, nor to have Andrew and Lucas as houseguests. I knew I should respect her privacy, but I was too curious to leave the secret alone. It was crying out to be discovered.

  I went back to bed, wishing the room wasn’t so chilly. I realized that Jove had not tried to join me, and I missed his warmth. I suspected I’d lost out to Lucas. I found myself thinking about those ridiculous bows Lucas had done out in the pasture, grinning all the while. It would be nice to sit with him in the cockpit of a plane, though I didn’t think they were very big. I’d have to sit on his lap, which would also be nice. Feeling much warmer, I fell asleep.

  The next morning, as soon as I was dressed, I bolted down some toast in the breakfast room and then went to check on Lettie. Mrs. Brickles came out just as I was about to knock.

  “She’s sleeping peacefully, Lady Thomasina. Best come back later.” The cook hid a yawn. “Her sister will be here any minute.”

  “Shall I sit with her until her sister arrives?”

  “No need for that, Lady Thomasina. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to see how my kitchen looks after I’ve left it to others for so many hours.”

  I went outside and weeded the summer border, but I couldn’t stop worrying about Lettie. When I went in to check on her again, her door stood open. I looked in. She still appeared to be sleeping. One of her sisters was there.

  “Would you come out into the hall?�
� I whispered to her. “I don’t want to wake Lettie.”

  She hurried out to me. “I don’t think we’ve met,” I said. Lettie had nine sisters, but I’d met only one of them, younger than this girl. “I know you must be Lettie’s sister because you look so much alike. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Mary, your ladyship,” she mumbled, twisting her hands together.

  “How is Lettie this morning?” I could see Lettie’s color had improved. The night before, she had been so pale that she’d looked like a different person.

  “She was awake a little while ago, but she is very confused. I hope her wits come back.”

  “I’m sure they will,” I said.

  “Lady Thomasina.” I heard Lettie’s voice, weak but clear, from the bed.

  I went in. “Lettie! I’m so happy you are awake.”

  “Please sit, your ladyship.” Mary indicated the chair next to the bed. I sat down.

  Touching the bandage on her head, Lettie said, “I’ve got a fearsome headache.”

  “I’m not surprised. You must have hit your head on one of the stone walls when you fell. Those steps are very narrow.”

  A confused look appeared on Lettie’s face. “Steps?”

  “That’s what I mean, your ladyship,” Mary said. “She doesn’t think she fell.”

  “Yes, you fell,” I said. “We found you at the bottom of the steps at the door of the icehouse.”

  “Icehouse?”

  “Yes, do you remember going to the icehouse?”

  Lettie tried to shake her head and then moaned in pain. “I didn’t go to the icehouse. I went … Where did I go?”

  She was growing pale again. I couldn’t keep asking her questions if it was going to make her worse. I stood up. “Don’t worry about it now, Lettie. I’m sure you will remember later. Just rest.”

  Lettie lifted her hand. “Wait. I didn’t go to the icehouse. I remember now. I went to the summerhouse.”

  “The summerhouse? Why would you have gone there?” The summerhouse, at the back of the garden, was a little shaded seating area from which to enjoy the fragrances of the lilies and the honeysuckle when they were in bloom. The latticework that made up its walls meant it was too chilly to use in the spring, and the servants didn’t use it at all. I sometimes took a book there to read on lazy summer afternoons, but it wasn’t a spot favored by anyone else in the family.

  “I … I don’t remember,” Lettie said, “but I’m sure I was there. I smelled something…” Her words drifted off and her eyes closed.

  “We’ll let her rest,” I whispered, and tiptoed out of the room, pondering what I’d just heard.

  The mention of the summerhouse had sparked a memory. I went back up to my room and took the wristlet out of the drawer, holding it up to my nose again. I had been wrong. The scent on the wristlet was not cucumber—it was borage. The herb grew far too vigorously all around the summerhouse, and without a staff to keep it under control, it was threatening to invade the rest of the garden. But why did the wristlet smell of it?

  Perhaps Lettie actually had been at the summerhouse, though I couldn’t think of a reason why she would be. She would never go just to sit in it. The indoor staff didn’t walk about any of the ornamental gardens; Miss Tanner would have frowned upon that. They only went into the kitchen garden.

  I went to the window. I could just make out the summerhouse behind the shrubs that bordered the walkway to it. I had to go look, though I doubted I’d find any sign that Lettie had been there. No one was about when I went downstairs and out the terrace door. As I headed toward the back, I found myself noticing once again how shabby and abandoned the garden looked. I passed the entrance to the maze, though it was so overgrown that it looked more like a wall of wild shrubbery, adding to the deserted feel.

  As I got closer to the summerhouse, I saw it needed a coat of paint. I could also smell the borage. It had spread far more than I had expected, with new shoots sprouting in a wide area all around the entrance to the summerhouse. I picked a leaf and then pulled the wristlet out of my pocket. They both had the same scent.

  I was just about to go in when a rustling came from behind me. Before I could turn around, a thick cloth went over my face and a strong arm went around my waist.

  “Be quiet and you won’t get hurt,” a man hissed.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  THE CLOTH STANK of something rotten and I nearly gagged. It was too tight over my mouth for me to scream. I began to struggle, fear pounding through me.

  The man cursed and tightened his hold on me. “Drop the watch and I’ll let you go,” he said.

  I dropped it. The man yanked on the cloth, jerking my head back. I could tell he was tying it in a knot at the back of my head. For some reason that forced me into action, and I rammed my elbows back into him, trying to free myself.

  “Mina!” Lucas’s voice came from somewhere near the house.

  The man cursed again and pushed me hard onto the ground.

  “Mina!” Lucas sounded as if he was getting closer.

  I felt the man grab one of my arms, and my panic increased. I didn’t want him to touch me again, so I rolled over and kicked at him, accidentally connecting with him in a place that made him cry out in pain. He let go of me and I could hear him crashing through the bushes as he ran away.

  I ripped the stinking rag from my face, gasping for breath. I looked around, but there was no sign of the attacker.

  Lucas reached me before I could get up. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he knelt down.

  I tried to get some words out, feeling so shaken I wasn’t sure if I could get my voice to work.

  “I’m not hurt,” I said finally. Lucas put his arms around my waist, helping me up. Once on my feet, I was shivering so much I felt like I might fall over.

  Lucas shifted so that one arm was still around me. “Lean on me if you need to,” he said.

  “Did you see him?” I asked, trying to get control of myself.

  “Just his back,” Lucas said. “He ran off into the woods. Let’s go back to the house. We need to tell Andrew and call the police. Do you know who it was?”

  “No, I didn’t even see his face.”

  He tightened his hold on me. “I didn’t know this sort of thing happened out here in the country. Have you heard of any other attacks?”

  “It wasn’t random.” I told him about Lettie insisting she’d gone to the summerhouse instead of the icehouse, about the wristlet, and about the man I’d seen running away from the house the first night I arrived. “The man grabbed me and told me to drop the wristlet. He attacked me just to get it.”

  “Is that it?” He pointed to the spot where I had fallen. The wristlet lay there, now a little dirtier than before.

  “I suppose I must have landed on it,” I said. “That must be why the man grabbed me again when I fell down. He was trying to get to it. Miss Tanner told me the man I’d seen running away was probably a soldier who had been invalided out of the fighting. But why would he still be here?”

  “Can I let go of you for a minute to pick it up?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” As soon as he took his arm away, I wished he’d put it back. At least I felt a little steadier on my feet, though my insides still felt shaky, as if I had just been on a fast automobile ride over winding country roads.

  Lucas picked up the wristlet. “Did you go into the summerhouse?”

  “No, I was just looking at the plants around it.”

  “I have an idea. I want to look inside.” I followed him, looking back over my shoulder into the woods as I did. I knew the man would not be there, but I couldn’t help myself. I hated that someone had been watching the house, watching me work in the garden.

  “I thought we’d find this sort of thing,” Lucas said as we viewed the interior. A moth-eaten wool blanket lay in one corner, surrounded by crumpled food packets and a couple of empty tins. “Whoever it was has been living here for a bit. Do you think Lettie was meeting him?”


  I couldn’t imagine Lettie sneaking out to meet a man. “No, she would never jeopardize her job here. Miss Tanner would sack her if she found out.”

  “We have to tell Andrew,” Lucas said. “He’s probably still in the library. He got a telephone call after we got back from Cranwell. Are you able to walk?”

  “Yes.” I brushed away a tear, telling myself that I was not going to cry. Sometimes I cried long after something had upset me. Lucas noticed the tear, but didn’t say anything. He just put his arm around me again and kept it there as we went back to the house.

  “Why were you looking for me?” I asked, shivering a little. I didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Lucas hadn’t come along at the right time.

  “I wanted to see if you were all right, after everything that happened last night. Andrew said you’d be upset about Lettie. I saw Margaret inside and she told me you could usually be found in the gardens. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. There are too many gardens here.”

  “I’m glad you did look.” I felt a little less shaky at the thought that he’d wanted to check on me.

  Andrew had just finished his telephone call when we went into the library. I was shocked by his appearance. It was as if he were aging more and more each day. He ran his hand over his face like he was trying to wipe away the tiredness. He was about to say something else when he looked at me and frowned. “Are you all right? You have dirt on your face.”

  Lucas handed him the wristlet and I launched into an explanation. As I told the story, Andrew’s expression grew more and more serious.

  “This is German,” Andrew said, examining the wristlet.

  “I know,” I said. “I should have paid more attention to that. Miss Tanner said it was probably a hungry soldier, and she also said we shouldn’t give in to spy hysteria. There wasn’t really a spy here, was there?”

  Andrew didn’t answer right away. He studied my face and then gave the slightest of nods, as if he’d come to a decision. “I need you not to repeat anything I’m going to tell you,” he said. “Can I count on you?”