by Adele Whitby
Essie shook her head and looked at the floor.
“But whyever not?” Katherine asked.
“Mr. Fellows spoke to him first,” Essie said. “And told Lord Chatswood that Mr. O’Brien was merely trying to play us for fools.”
“But he didn’t ask for money!” I said with feeling. “He didn’t even ask for food, although he looked to be starving.”
“Essie, did you explain all of this to Papa?” Katherine asked.
“Lord Chatswood said Mr. O’Brien was a beggar,” Essie said, her cheeks red, “hoping to gain some advantage with his story. He was not pleased with me for coming to him, and I daresay I let him down. I should not have disobeyed Mr. Fellows. I have to let the matter rest, girls. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, and Sean O’Brien, too, but I cannot pursue this any further.”
I couldn’t believe that Papa wouldn’t even try to help. He clearly didn’t understand what was really happening. I wouldn’t let the matter rest there—I couldn’t. “There must be something we can do,” I insisted. “Can you ask some of the older servants if they remember Maggie O’Brien?” I asked.
“If Mr. Fellows finds out, he’ll have my job,” Essie answered, shaking her head.
“We won’t let that happen,” Katherine told her.
Essie wasn’t convinced.
“Please,” I said. “There may be someone who remembers and knows what happened to Maggie. And don’t forget, we promised Sean O’Brien!”
I could tell Essie wanted to help Mr. O’Brien as much as we did. It was written all over her face. But the fear of losing her job was too great. My mind was spinning. I thought if I could just find the right words, I could convince Essie to keep trying.
But then Katherine spoke up, her voice soft but firm.
“Elizabeth, it’s not fair for us to put Essie in this position. She’s risking her job. It’s easy for us to tell her not to worry, but think about it from her perspective.”
My sister was right.
“I’m sorry we pushed you so hard, Essie,” I said as I reached over to give her a gentle hug. “I don’t know what we would do if you ever lost your position, though I know deep down in my heart that could never happen. Papa knows how much we love you.”
Katherine joined our hug, and Essie patted both of our backs. “Thanks for understanding, girls. I really am sorry to let you down.”
“You’re not letting us down,” Katherine said, and I nodded. We meant it. Essie could never let us down.
“I wish there was something we could to,” Katherine said to me while Essie busied herself picking up some pins that Madame Dubois had left behind. “But if Mr. Fellows catches us talking to the servants, he’ll report us to Papa, and that could cause problems for Essie.”
“There is something,” I said, suddenly remembering. “I know where Papa keeps the staff ledger. It’s in his private library. I’ve seen him hand it over to Mr. Fellows many times. We’ll slip in and borrow it when Papa goes out.” In my excitement, I spoke loudly and Essie heard me.
“No, Lady Elizabeth,” she said. “You must stay out of it as well. Doing anything more will bring a heap of trouble on all of us.”
I glanced at Katherine, who looked as torn as I felt.
“Promise me, Lady Elizabeth,” Essie said, “there will be no sneaking about.”
I nodded, but only because Essie was so frightened and I couldn’t bear to see her worry.
“Promise?” Essie asked again.
“Yes,” I answered, but I was careful not to use the word “promise.” I’m going to get a good look at that ledger, no matter what, I thought. And if I am caught, I will make sure Essie isn’t blamed.
“Well, then,” Essie said, surveying the room. “I think I found all the pins, so I’ll just take that tea tray back down to the kitchen.”
“Oh no,” Katherine said, plopping into a chair next to the table. “We’re hungry!”
“Famished,” I added.
“As you wish, ladies,” Essie said. “Try not to ruin your appetites for luncheon with your father.”
As soon as Essie had left the room, we wrapped the tea cakes, scones, and dried fruit in napkins and squirreled everything away in the dressing closet. Katherine added a piece of toast she had slipped into her pocket at breakfast.
My sister looked me in the eye. “I saw you cross your fingers when you told Essie you would leave Papa’s ledger alone. Tell me how you plan to get your hands on it.”
I woke up the next morning still thinking about Sean O’Brien. Today was the day he was due to return to Chatswood Manor, and we had yet to discover anything about his Maggie.
That meant getting my hands on the staff ledger in Papa’s private library as soon as possible. I was still wondering how when Papa let us know over breakfast that he would be going to London the next day.
I eyed Katherine, and she gave me a subtle nod. It was the perfect opportunity to slip into Papa’s study and have a look at the ledger. If I could prove to Papa and to Mr. Fellows that Maggie O’Brien did indeed work at Chatswood Manor in 1827, then they would have to make some inquiries about what had happened to her.
“Will you be taking Mr. Fellows with you?” I asked Papa. My mission would be much easier with our watchful butler out of the house, so I hoped Papa would choose to bring Mr. Fellows along.
Mr. Fellows stepped up, ready to do anything Papa asked. “Shall I have the house opened, milord?”
Papa had a lovely house in London. We lived there during the London social season.
“No, Fellows. I’ll stay at my club. It’s just for one night. I’ll be back on the first train the next morning. My valet will be sufficient help.”
Sneaking into the office was going to be much more difficult, but it couldn’t be helped. No matter what, I was going to get a look at that ledger.
After breakfast, Katherine and I went upstairs to add to the growing pile of food in our dressing closet. Katherine had slipped two apricots into her pocket, and I added another piece of toast.
Essie joined us there, wondering why we were upstairs instead of in the drawing room or taking a walk on the grounds, as we often did after breakfast.
“I forgot my book,” I said, grabbing one off my nightstand.
In truth, I had finished that particular volume two days before.
“What time is Mr. O’Brien coming today?” Katherine asked.
“After the servants’ lunch,” Essie answered. “I hope to give the man another bite to eat along with the bad news.”
“We’d like to be with you when you tell him,” Katherine said.
“No, milady, you mustn’t,” Essie said. “I’ll be in even more trouble than I already am if Mr. Fellows or Lord Chatswood were to find out.”
“We won’t tell them,” I said.
“But I will have to,” Essie answered firmly. “Your papa told me to leave this matter alone. I can’t go against his wishes.”
I sighed, but agreed. I didn’t want to get Essie into trouble.
“Find us directly after you speak to him,” Katherine said. “Please, Essie.”
“Of course, milady,” Essie answered.
Katherine and I whispered about Essie’s meeting with Sean O’Brien whenever we had a free moment. I couldn’t bear the thought of Essie sending the poor man away with no hope when I was just one day away of sneaking a peek at the ledger.
“We have to speak to him and let him know we haven’t given up,” I explained to Katherine for what felt like the one hundredth time.
But Katherine argued that it was too risky. “What if we’re caught? What if we put Essie’s job in jeopardy?” she asked.
“What if we meet with him after Essie has delivered her news, so she has nothing at all to do with it? No one can blame a lady’s maid if two young ladies happen to run into a man on the grounds,” I said. “Surely we could convince Papa of that if we were caught . . . and that’s a big if, Katherine,” I reminded her.
Finally, Kath
erine agreed. After luncheon we told Papa we intended to take a long walk so that we would be fit for a night of dancing—our birthday ball was just a week away.
The servants had their own luncheon directly after ours, so we were able to escape the house unnoticed. After a stroll through the gardens, Katherine and I just happened to find ourselves within view of the servants’ yard.
Mr. O’Brien arrived early and stood in the yard, twisting his hat in his hand just as he had done the week before. A few minutes later, Essie joined him. We were too far away to hear the conversation, but Essie kept shaking her head. Poor Mr. O’Brien stared at his shoes, looking completely downcast.
Their talk concluded, Mr. O’Brien turned to leave. Essie placed her hand on his arm for a moment and said something more before rushing toward the house.
Essie must be going back into the house for food, I realized. I seized the opportunity. Pulling Katherine along with me, we rushed toward Mr. O’Brien. His sad expression brightened when he saw us, and he bowed with a smile.
“Good day, ladies,” he said.
I knew I didn’t have much time, so I dispensed with the niceties. “We’re going to help you,” I told him. “We’re going to get our hands on the staff ledger somehow and see what we can discover.”
“We have to be careful,” Katherine added. “If Mr. Fellows gets wind of our plan, we’ll all be in trouble. But we know it’s worth the risk.”
“How can we get word to you?” I asked him.
Mr. O’Brien looked from my sister to me and back again. I could tell he was overwhelmed and perhaps a bit confused as to why we were helping him. “I’ll come back again this day next week,” he said finally.
“No, make it the day after,” I told him. “That’s the day of our birthday ball. We won’t be able to slip away.”
Mr. O’Brien agreed. “And I can’t thank you enough for trying to help me. I do hope you’ll have some good news for me.”
“We hope so too,” I answered. “Now we must go, before we are discovered.”
It didn’t matter that running was unladylike. Katherine and I quickly dashed around the side of the house just in time. Seconds later Essie rushed out of the kitchen with a basket of food and pressed it into Mr. O’Brien’s hand. There was a shadow in the doorway—Mr. Fellows watched to make sure that Mr. O’Brien went on his way.
That night, just before bed, Katherine reminded me that in our hurry, we never asked Mr. O’Brien about sending food to Ireland.
“We’ll have to remember next week,” I said. “Let’s keep saving what we can in the meantime.”
I added a dinner roll to our stockpile. Our small stash was rather messy. I straightened it up a bit and Katherine laid down a piece of cheese and some fruit from dessert.
“We’ve got quite the cache,” she said. “It’ll make a lovely gift for a hungry family.”
I agreed. “It will, as long as we find a way to get it to them.”
“We will. Sean O’Brien will know how.”
Essie came in then to help us undress for bed. She didn’t seem surprised to find us in the dressing closet again. In fact, she hardly noticed. Our Essie was definitely preoccupied.
“What is it, Essie?” I asked.
She shook her head as if shaking away bad thoughts. “It’s nothing, milady. Only that Mr. O’Brien was so sad when I sent him away. I believe we were his last hope of discovering what happened to his poor wife, and I feel so bad about letting him down.”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “It is very sad,” I said. “But you did everything you could to help him, Essie. And besides, I believe he’ll find a clue quite soon.”
“You’ve a kind heart, milady,” Essie said. “And you too, Lady Katherine. I believe you are two of the best young ladies in England.”
I felt a twinge when she said that. I hated lying to her, but it was best she didn’t know what Katherine and I were up to. There was simply too much at stake, and we had to protect Essie.
The next morning, Papa left quite early. Katherine and I had a quiet breakfast on our own, waited on by Mr. Fellows.
“And what plans do you young ladies have for today?” Mr. Fellows asked.
Katherine choked on her scrambled eggs, her pink cheeks practically giving away the fact that we had something secret planned.
I did my best to appear calm and collected. “We thought we’d read in the library,” I said. “Some of our birthday guests might want to discuss literature, and we want to be prepared.”
“And what do you propose to read today?” Mr. Fellows asked.
I wasn’t ready with an answer, but I quickly came up with just the right title. “Oliver Twist by Mr. Dickens,” I said. “Isn’t it wonderful how he takes up for the poor?”
If Mr. Fellows made a connection between young Oliver Twist and Mr. O’Brien, he didn’t let on. “Indeed, Lady Elizabeth,” he said with a nod. “You use your time wisely.”
I looked at Katherine, my eyes flashing. Indeed I intended to use my time wisely. In the work of a moment, we might solve the mystery of Maggie O’Brien!
Papa’s private library was just off the main library. Katherine and I went there directly after breakfast, expecting to have enough time on our own to locate the staff ledger and quickly leave.
Perhaps Mr. Fellows suspected we were up to something. First he arrived to help us locate Papa’s copy of Oliver Twist; then he sent a footman in to see if we required anything. The footman was followed by a series of maids who arrived to fluff pillows, see if we wanted the shutters opened or closed, needed a fire, or desired Mrs. Cosgrove or Mrs. Fields to come and discuss the birthday ball.
We took turns reading aloud and were all the way to chapter three before we had a few minutes alone. I darted toward the doors to Papa’s library. At just that moment, Mr. Fellows arrived to place the morning’s post on Papa’s desk.
“Is there something you need, milady?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Fellows,” I answered. “I’m merely taking a turn around the room while Katherine reads.”
“Very good, milady. I’ll be just outside if you change your mind.”
Just outside? We’d never get a look at that ledger if Mr. Fellows insisted on being present every moment. I had to think of a reason to send him away for a few moments.
“Has all the wine for the birthday ball been selected?” I asked. “I overheard Papa say something last night about wanting a full accounting.”
Mr. Fellows seemed startled for a moment. “His Lordship said nothing to me last night or this morning when I saw him off to the train,” he said.
“I’m sure it slipped his mind,” I told him. “Perhaps you can prepare a list and present it to him when he returns.”
“Yes, milady,” Mr. Fellows said, rushing off. “Thomas is just outside, if you need anything. Or you can ring the bell for Essie.”
I felt terrible. Now I had lied to both Essie and Mr. Fellows. I reminded myself it was for a good cause, but I worried that neither of them would ever trust me again if they caught me in a lie.
I watched Mr. Fellows close the library doors behind him and whispered to Katherine, “I’m going to try again. Keep reading.”
“I don’t think you should,” Katherine said nervously. “Another servant could come in at any moment, and we have no good reason to be in Papa’s private library.”
She was right. Even Mama hadn’t ever entered Papa’s study without an invitation, and Mr. Fellows didn’t let the maids clean the room without his supervision. If anyone found us in the library, they would surely tell Papa.
But I had to try. I had promised Mr. O’Brien.
“Keep reading,” I told Katherine. “If you hear someone coming, say, ‘Oh, poor Oliver Twist. Poor, poor Oliver Twist.’ ”
Katherine nodded and took the chair closest to the doors leading into the library from the great hall. It was the best place to hear if anyone was coming. Once she was in position, I ran to the doors to Papa’s private san
ctuary.
I could hear the nervous tremor in Katherine’s voice as she read, but I couldn’t focus on the words. I slipped into Papa’s office. The ledger was just where I had seen it before, on the shelf above his desk. I kneeled on the desk chair to reach for it. Suddenly, the chair swiveled and the book came crashing down, hitting the desk.
I froze, expecting a footman to run in to see what had happened. There was a catch in Katherine’s voice, but she continued to read from Mr. Dickens’s story about the orphan boy who is forced to become a thief on the streets of London.
The room was dark. Due to Papa’s absence, the shutters hadn’t been opened and the lamps hadn’t been lit. I couldn’t risk turning on the gaslight, so I carried the book over to the window and pushed the heavy wooden shutter open enough to read. I flipped through the pages, looking for the year 1827. That was the year Sean O’Brien stopped getting letters from Maggie. It was so long ago that Papa’s careful handwriting had given way to that of his father’s.
I had just found the proper year when I heard a change in Katherine’s voice.
“Oh, poor Oliver Twist. Poor, poor Oliver Twist,” she said.
There was no time to put the book back. I dropped it and ran to the doors, hoping I could slip out before I was seen. But at just that moment, Katherine took a deep breath and nodded.
“Oh good. Someone is helping him. Oliver Twist will be all right,” she said.
I took a deep breath and with shaking hands went back to the ledger. I ran my finger down the column of names, their positions, and their wages. I looked for names that had extra notations, and there it was—Maggie O’Brien! I read everything as quickly as I could, committing it to memory, and then put the book back.
I had just closed the doors to Papa’s study when the main doors to the library opened again.
Katherine jumped out of her chair and strode toward the sofa.
“Everything all right, ladies?” Mr. Fellows asked. He had a piece of paper in his hands. No doubt the wine inventory I had told him Papa wanted.