by Anya Wylde
Lucy was annoyed. She would have preferred if the woman had likened her to a majestic tree rather than a shrub.
Another squawk from the maid echoed around the manor.
Lucy frowned harder. She had no time to waste. The full throated cry the woman had let out before draping herself on the sofa was blasted inconvenient. And the squawk that followed would no doubt bring the other servants whizzing into the room at any moment.
She hitched up her skirts and flew down the stairs uncaring of the fact that the carefully attached leaves had unglued from her skirts, the twigs detached from her bodice, and the tiny white flowers that she had so prettily arranged in her hair tangled together to form an unattractive lump.
Once outdoors, Lucy lurched towards the nearest tree and hid behind it. Parting the branches, she peeked down the lane.
She spotted Lady Sedley's scarlet cloak flash around the corner.
Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.
Breaking off two leafy branches from the tree, she held them in front of her face and scuttled forward from bush to shrub until once again Lady Sedley appeared in front of her.
Lucy sucked in a breath and advanced forward imagining herself to be a seed eating plumed guinea hen. She ducked her featherless head and winged her way from thicket to thicket, tree to tree, her eyes watering from the effort of keeping Lady Sedley in view.
No ground nesting bird weighing a few pounds and found in Sub-Saharan Africa could have spotted a worm with the sort of eyesight Lucy possessed. She cursed her weak vision annoyed at the disadvantage.
She now decided that she was no longer a plumed guinea hen but a bounding kangaroo. This seemed to work better. She could feel the bounce in her toes and the spring in her step. Pleased, she skipped over stones and hedges trying to guess where Lady Sedley was headed.
Lady Sedley sped down the path taking short, quick steps. She seemed to be making her way towards the old stables, which as far as Lucy knew were overgrown and abandoned.
A few minutes later Lucy became certain that she was right. Lady Sedley was heading to the stables. Surely only some shady business would take Lady Sedley to this part of the grounds for, after all, the Yellow Garden was far prettier and frequented more often.
Lucy eagerly scuttled forward, her nose sniffing something clandestine in the air, and in her eagerness she almost missed the fact that Lady Sedley had halted. She stifled a squeal, ducked behind a large prickly bush and peeked out.
Lady Sedley was rapidly shuffling backwards away from the sharp bend in the road. A moment later she paused and tilted her head as if listening for something.
Lucy dared to move closer. What had caught Lady Sedley's interest? Curious to see what lay beyond the curve in the path, she inched her way towards a tree shaped like a gouty foot that stood a little ahead of Lady Sedley.
With her heart in her tonsils, Lucy squatted, and then gingerly lifting her toes scurried past Lady Sedley. "I am a tree, an invisible tree, a tree … a tree, don't see me," she silently chanted.
A leaf crunched, and Lucy's toe froze in mid-air.
Lady Sedley's head jerked up. She furtively looked around for the source of the noise.
Lucy stopped breathing.
By some miracle, Lady Sedley failed to spot Lucy's frightened form trembling a few feet away from her. With a final quick glance at her surroundings, she went back to eavesdropping.
Droplets of sweat were trickling down the side of Lucy's face by the time she managed to creep up to her tree of choice. She brushed them aside and placing her paws on the tree trunk edged her quivering nose forward.
Ian was back.
He was standing with his foot up on a rock, his black hair slicked back and plastered to his head. His scalp glowed white in the sunlight where his oiled hair parted in the middle.
He seemed to be arguing with a fellow blessed with three chins.
The chins jiggled as the man made a threatening gesture.
Ian's shoulders straightened and he thrust his chest out like an agitated goose. If he had wings, he would have flapped them at this point.
Lucy's nose retreated and her ear took its place. It was no use. She could hear nothing. She was momentarily distracted when Spinoza suddenly fluttered down from above and settled on her bonnet. The silly raven was no doubt delighted to find branches sticking out of his favourite perch and he settled in for a long snooze.
Lucy glared at the bird and bobbed her head in order to dislodge him. She waved her hands on top of her head, twisted her bonnet round and round and finally lifted the bonnet clean off her head.
Spinoza eyed her sourly, his claws digging deep into the bonnet.
Lucy blew into the bird's face.
The raven squawked in protest.
Lady Sedley gave a startled hop and swivelled her head towards the tree shaped in the form of a gouty foot.
Lucy slowly slithered down the side of the tree trunk.
When Lady Sedley looked back towards Ian, he had already departed with the dumpy man running after him. With another wary glance at the tree, Lady Sedley continued on her way to the stables.
Lucy took a deep breath, and depositing the bonnet and the disgruntled raven atop her head once again crept after Lady Sedley.
Outside the stable was an ornate iron bench. And on that bench sat Peter.
Lucy's eyes widened at her good luck as Lady Sedley went and sat down next to her son.
Chapter 16
Lucy snuck behind the stables, walked further down the path and crossed over to the other side. She then backtracked in order to reach a large fat elm that grew right behind the bench on which Peter and Lady Sedley were siting.
She plastered her front to the tree trunk and poked her head out from the side to look at the back of their heads.
One of her branches scraped the tree.
Peter glanced back, his eyes narrowed.
She stopped breathing wondering if he had seen her. It seemed not for he turned back to his mother.
He took a pinch of snuff and delicately held it to his nose with skeletal fingers. "We could have spoken in the house."
"Too many ears," Lady Sedley replied.
"What is it, Mother?"
"Have you taken the jewels?" she asked bluntly.
"I am now the owner of Rudhall and all it contains. Why would I need to steal from myself?"
Lady Sedley replied broodingly, "I cannot understand how it happened? The only person I can trust is you, since we were together at the time your father was murdered. I know we did not do it, but I am worried. What if it was one of your siblings?"
Peter closed the snuff box and replaced it in his pocket. He raised his face to the sky. "I was certain this morning it was going to storm this afternoon."
Lady Sedley pulled at the edge of her glove as if it was too tight. "But how could they have gone past without us seeing anything? How do you think they did it?"
Peter shook his head. "And now, look, not a cloud in the sky. I would have had to stay the night in the animal house if it had stormed. The animals become frightened easily and a part of the roof leaks—"
Lady Sedley grabbed his arm and shook it slightly. "You have to help me find the jewels."
He blinked in surprise. "Do you want to find the jewels or the murderer?"
"I want to find the jewels and protect my children if they killed him."
"I see," Peter said, a curious note in his voice.
"You need to forget about your animals and stand by your family instead. Lord Adair has always found the culprit, and if it is Elizabeth or Ian, then we have to find out before he does and help them escape the country."
"This sudden affection, this interest in involving me in your affairs … I hope, Mother, it is not because I am now the master of the house."
"Don't be ridiculous, Peter. You are my son—"
Peter leaped up. "I need to see to my animals."
"I will make more of an effort—"
"I have asked
you six times in the last month to come and see the kittens that I have recently procured. You have ignored me every single time. You have never taken an interest in my affairs, so now why should I involve myself in yours?"
"I will come and see them … I will make more of effort. We will all come."
"Good day, Mother."
Lady Sedley gripped his sleeve refusing to let him leave. "Don't be ridiculous. This is about your own brother and sister. How can you be so childish—?"
"Good evening."
Lucy started and turned towards the voice. Her eyes widened below her lopsided bonnet, and she inhaled sharply.
Lord Adair stood before them wearing a thick, luxurious dark blue wool coat with large collars and cuffs adorned with glittering silver buttons and dove grey embroidery. A light waistcoat peeked out from behind the coat, beautiful leather gloves covered his long fingers, and his muscled legs were clad in dark buckskin breeches and spotless grey riding boots.
The robes he had worn previously became a distant memory for all those who looked upon him now.
Lucy's eyes glazed over, and she wiped away a touch of drool near the corner of her mouth. He was just so … so … well proportioned.
"We were just leaving." Lady Sedley discordant voice wriggled its way into Lucy's besotted ears. "I apologise for my curtness, Lord Adair, but it is a bitter day, is it not? I am in a rush to get warm and indoors."
Lord Adair bowed, his eyes lingering on her scarlet coat. "You don't need to apologise. No doubt the cold is affecting your delicate health."
She flushed. "Yes, well," Her hand stroked the coat, "I was distraught after the funeral. I didn't realise I picked up the red instead of the black—"
Lord Adair shrugged and said blandly, "You don't have to explain. No doubt grief has sapped you of your ability to perceive the difference between colours."
"The sun is sinking rapidly," she said in confusion. Her limbs jerked awkwardly as she stood up. "I will see you at dinner?"
Lord Adair bowed once more.
Peter, with an incoherent mumbled apology, caught his mother's arm and led her towards the manor.
"Peter is shy in front of all strangers, is he not?"
Lucy glanced around. She could see no one. Who in the world was Lord Adair talking to?
"He is remarkable with animals. Gentle, kind and confident, and yet around humans he becomes a frightened filly."
Lucy stopped herself from nodding in time. A nodding tree wouldn’t have looked right.
"He seems to like you. How long did it take before he opened up to you? And I hear Ian has returned."
The raven woke up and hopped onto her shoulder. Lucy shared a puzzled glance with the bird. Was the cold pushing Lord Adair over the edge? Was she witnessing a man slowly lose his mind in front of her very eyes?
"Peter saw you, Miss Trotter. How could he not spot such an odd looking tree? The leaves do not match, you have procured different branches from different trees, and your black shoes peeking out under your brown skirts are stark against the snow."
Lucy shuffled out in annoyance. "Lady Sedley did not see me. I think it worked remarkably well."
He smiled and offered her his arm. "I have always wanted to stroll with a wood nymph."
Lucy threw the branch she was holding in her hand and grabbed his arm in relief. Warmth emanated from him in waves and she sighed in pleasure.
His hard muscles rippled under her fingers and she flushed, becoming warmer still. "The lace near your collar is divine," she gibbered to hide her confusion.
"You have a good eye," he said thoughtfully. "This lace carries an enchanting tale."
"Tell me."
He looked down at her."Once upon a time, beautiful young women with streams of golden hair were stolen from their English homes and brought over to Greece on a gilded ship. They were then set to work, and the result of their hard labour was a bolt of precious lace. I procured this bit from them for a very high sum."
Her eyes widened. “Truly?"
"No."
She stared out into the distance. "Well, the dress I am wearing was made by a young woman. Not beautiful, but plain and loving … a friend." She gulped emotionally. "She was very ill at the time. I would sit by her and sings songs for her while she worked on my dress. It may not look beautiful, but its value is hidden in every single thread. She died soon after making it."
"Truly?" he asked raising an eyebrow.
"No."
They walked in silence for some time.
"What sort of a tree nymph do I remind you off?" she asked, skirting a wooden log fallen in the path.
"Erato."
"And you are Arcas?"
He smiled reluctantly.
She caught her breath, "A few married people in my village … they looked similar."
"Eh?"
"People, they are young, they get married, and then after a few years they both start looking the same. The man looks like the woman and the woman looks like the man, and even the pets in the house start looking like their owners, and before you know it everyone in the family looks like the same person just wearing dresses, breeches or fur."
"I have noticed that."
"Do you think," she asked hopefully, "that if I flutter around you long enough, some of your beauty will spill onto me in a similar manner?"
His smile widened. "You are bewitching, Miss Trotter."
"I don't believe you."
He shrugged.
She frowned. "Aren't you going to convince me otherwise?"
"It would take an entire lifetime to convince a woman of her beauty and even then she would doubt it."
"I have a gap in my front teeth."
"I know."
"That is not attractive."
"No, it is delightful."
"Truly?"
"Yes."
"You are not lying?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"You don't sound certain."
"Miss Trotter.” He pressed his lips together.
She squinted as the sun brightened and bounced off the snow. "That certain was a very uncertain certain. I don't think you were certain. You just said you were certain to make me think that you were certain when, in fact, you were not certain."
"Are you trying to test my patience?" he asked in a soft warning tone.
"You were certain," she assured him hurriedly.
After that they walked the rest of the way in silence and entered the house together.
Lady Sedley met them near the door. She reeled back at the sight of Lucy and her mouth fell open in shock. After a tense moment, she used a word Lucy had only heard the servants utter before.
Lucy giggled. Dressed up as a tree with a raven on her head and holding a handsome man's arm … She completely agreed with Lady Sedley.
Lawks! It truly was.
Chapter 17
Rudhall Manor was in mourning.
Lady Sedley floated around the house wearing a long black silk dress cut enticingly low. Her chalky complexion contrasted so well with the black that she could have blended in with the walls.
She finally sank into a pale pink armchair placed near the window in the morning room and expertly arranged her head in such a way that the bright sun bathed her skin in the most flattering light. She spent the rest of the day watching the snow melt with an occasional well-timed tear leaking down one green eye.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, did not sink into a single chair the entire day. Instead, she marched purposefully around the house wearing a simple high neck morning dress with a stern collar and lots and lots of buttons.
The servants took one look at her tightly scraped back blonde hair and cowered in the kitchens sending only the bravest to serve her.
Peter Sedley, the spanking new lord of the manor who had recently been slapped with numerous unwanted and futile titles, slinked off to the animal house where he spent the day twitching, flickering and lurching amongst
nests and things.
Lastly, Ian percolated for a while on the couch in the library until he nodded off with a half-finished cigar clutched between his maroon fingers.
Meanwhile, Lucy spent the day gently simmering on the bed in her room. She had spent the last few hours peering at the large window above her desk watching the sun lazily drift by, finding shapes in the clouds and counting grey pigeons.
A thin blue quilt was flung across her legs keeping away the slight nip in the air. A black band tied to her arm kept slipping down to her elbows, and the pillows stacked up behind her back were flattened from lying against them for so long.
On the side table next to her untidy bed sat a fresh apple core, a flickering candle whose melted wax had leaked onto the wood, a cup with dregs of cold tea and a few colourful threads.
After so many hours of idleness, her face had relaxed into a blank, almost spiritual expression. Her mouth hung partially open, her eyes were glazed and unseeing, while her fingers listlessly tweaked a pug's ear.
And it wasn't just her feeling languorous that day. A sort of lethargy had shrouded the entire house ever since the funeral. The walls seem to sulk, the curtains wilt, and as for the furniture … why, the chair was as depressed as could be and the beds seemed to creak in the most pathetic manner.
Lucy picked up the apple core and nibbled on it. She had abandoned the idea of disguises, but that did not mean she had abandoned the investigation.
No, she had yet another plan.
She turned towards the window. The sun had finally dived out of sight, and a far away yellow lamp glowed like an orb in the dark landscape.
She stared at the glistening black glass wondering what hour it was. The dinner bell rang that very moment jerking her awake. Her eyes unglazed and her back straightened.
It was time.
"My poor head," Lucy moaned as she lurched into the kitchen.
The cook's face softened slightly.
"I don't think I can join the family for dinner," Lucy continued, her hand stroking her temple. She squinted at the cook hopefully. "Is there something small for dinner that I can take to my room? I think I am going to retire early tonight."
Rose bared her teeth at the cook in warning.
Torn, the cook looked from Rose to Lucy. Finally, she pressed her lips together and taking out some bread and cheese placed it next to the meat pie that was meant to be carried into the dining room for the family.