The Lion Lies Waiting

by Glenn Quigley

  Mrs. Knight entered the room and began shooing away the medical team.

  “Go on, leave him alone. You have a visitor, Lord Chase.”

  Agatha Samble entered the room, dressed in a plain maroon cotton twill gown and without her ceremonial Rabbit mask.

  “I’m sure you’d like to speak to her in private,” Mrs. Knight said pointedly.

  “As you please, Mrs. Knight,” Eva said, regally rising from her seat. “But later on, you and I are going to have a little chat.”

  MARLEY’S MIND WAS assaulted by the past. Memory after memory came barrelling out of the dark toward him, pulling him back, dragging him down. He squinted, trying to focus, to anchor himself in the present. He was certain he’d heard Eva’s voice, but he was alone with Agatha Samble.

  “Rabbit,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  “Swan,” she replied, nodding formally.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “You were missed at the meeting. I wanted to see how you were.”

  “Here is your answer,” Marley wheezed, weakly gesturing with his hand.

  “Your daughter stopped by to give us all a piece of her mind. She’s quite the force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?”

  “She has been called worse.”

  “Indeed. By you. I’m not entirely looking forward to her tenure as Swan, but I came to make sure she is still your successor.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know you. You’re stubborn and petulant and very likely to give the position to someone else just to spite her.”

  “Would you not you rather it went to a person of softer will? A person less forthright?”

  “I want to see it go to the right person. I want to see the position filled by one who knows their own mind and isn’t afraid to make a stand.”

  “I have a niece who will make a fine Swan.”

  “You mean Dorothea? I’ve met her, she’s a dullard.”

  Marley’s nostrils flared.

  “Eva ran away,” he said, “left the island when she faced difficulty. Do you truly think she will be any better in the role?”

  “You didn’t give her much choice. You were going to force a handfasting between her and Fox the sake of your vanity, for the sake of your legacy.”

  “Ultimately, all a man is, is the mark he makes on the world,” Marley said in a huff.

  “And the mark you made most clearly is a forceful woman who knows her own mind. But now you’re prepared to let your guilt ruin—”

  “Guilt? Pah. Ridiculous,” Marley said. “What have I to feel guilty for? For building an empire?”

  “Your mother built the empire and handed it to you. You continued what she started, all the while shouting about what a wonderful businessman you are, growing your company on the broken backs of the men and women unfortunate enough to work for you. You strut around this island like you own it, you always have done. You think I’m deaf to the whispers between you and Fox? Blind to your manipulations of Magpie? You and Malcolm Mudge rode roughshod across this island like you owned it, like you built it between you, when in truth neither of you built a damn thing. And now you do the same with his son. The two of you, thick as thieves, conspiring with Magpie against Badger and myself.”

  “I made the family business what it is today! I expanded it. I sought new trade routes in places no one else dared. I secured deals thought impossible by other, lesser persons.”

  “And you did it all alone, did you? No one else deserves recognition for their role in your achievements? You act as if you built Chase Trading from the dirt.”

  “I could have,” he said.

  “You’re deluded. You have no idea what the ordinary people of this island suffer through to put food on their table. Neither did Malcolm Mudge, with his family mining business. Corrupt, greedy Malcolm. He was just smart enough to be useful to you, but not so smart he could see you for what you are.”

  “And what am I?”

  “More peacock than Swan. I do wonder why you waited until after Malcolm died to try having his son marry your daughter. Did he reject the idea when he was still alive? Did you need time to sink your claws into Fox, twist him round to your way of thinking? Did you whisper sweet nothings of legacy and dynasty into his ears? Oh, what power he’d have! What power you’d have. The patriarch of the Chase political empire. But you didn’t count on Eva having a mind of her own. You thought you could bully her into marrying Fox just like you bullied her for her entire life. That’s why I want her on the council. I want her to sit across from Baxbary Mudge every day and remind him of what he lost out on. I want her to thwart his every desire.”

  “Well, it is not your decision to make. Now, on your way out, please have Mrs. Knight send for my solicitor. I must make amendments to my will.”

  “No.”

  Marley coughed. He was stunned.

  “No? What do you mean, no?”

  He was pleased to hear the sudden power in his own voice, glad to be able to stoke the fearsome fires of his anger when he needed to.

  “I’m not going to let you put your needs ahead of the island’s!”

  “Not going to let me? Let me?” he repeated.

  “I’m not going to let a selfish, spiteful old man damage this community. Your niece is a fool who works at her family company because she would be perfectly incapable of finding employment anywhere else. She has no idea what it takes to be on the council, which is what you’re counting on. You know as well as I do Fox will have her eating out his hand and with Magpie already on his side, you’ll essentially be handing control of the entire island over to him.”

  “Dorothea understands what I am trying to do for my family.”

  “What family? I’m sorry, Swan, but what family? From what I’m told, your first wife hardly ever saw you, your second wife left with one of your daughters, and then Lady Eva left you, too. What family remains? Cousins who will pick over your estate after you’re gone? A grandniece-or-nephew who will only know you from a painting? You gave every minute of your life to your company, sold every second for another penny. And I know you had your reasons, but I also know you regret it, at least in part. You became lost in your own world and you didn’t see what it was doing to the people around you until it was too late. There lies the source of your guilt.”

  Her words stung more than Marley was willing to admit.

  “But it’s not too late for Lady Eva,” she said. “Not yet. And we both know you won’t get many more chances to put things right, Marley.”

  He was surprised by the use of his name. She only ever used it for emphasis. He could easily summon another member of the household staff to carry out his wishes, but despite their bickering and her harsh tongue, he valued her counsel. She was perhaps the only person on the entire island he acknowledged as his equal. He was used to the people around him skirting around the seriousness of his condition, never addressing it head-on. His illness was just another battle to be fought. Winning was just a matter of approach, a matter of tactics, a matter of time. He’s spent a fortune on the best people, the best equipment. He’d never met a problem he couldn’t solve by throwing money at it.

  “If you are so concerned about your legacy,” she continued, “about what people will say of you after you’re gone, then don’t sacrifice this island’s future.”

  “If Eva had married Baxbary,” Marley said, idly, “I would have held my grandchild in my arms by now. I would have stood on the harbour and shown him the empire I have built. I would have seen the future in his eyes. What is my future now?”

  “It’s in Lady Eva’s hands, as it always has been.”

  “Alas! Then I am truly doomed.”

  EVA WALKED DOWN the small stone staircase to the kitchens of Chase Manor. Those rooms were large, dome ceilinged, and cold when the ovens weren’t on. A long bench held several gleaming, clockwork mixing bowls, like the kind Edwin used in his bakery, while another held racks of exotic spices from across the world. H
er father was unusual in his love of those. A holdover from his time spent with Captain Sada.

  Eva’s favourite part of the kitchen was always the herb room. It was lined with shelves stretching up to the high ceiling and filled with glass jars of all shapes and sizes. Handwritten labels were affixed to each one, so many she thought she could never read them all. It was to there she always ran when she was a girl, watching the cook take leaves or seeds or bark and mash them with a great stone pestle and mortar. The colour of butter and constantly flooded with sunlight pouring through the glass doors, the space sang with life.

  But that was before.

  The herb room lay unused, cold and empty. It threw the sound of her footsteps back at her. What jars remained were cracked, their labels faded. The glass doors were grimy and green and rusted shut. She had wanted to show it to Iris, tell her stories of her time spent there, but the air between them remained icy.

  To the side of the main kitchen was a small antechamber decorated with Midwinter wreaths. It was where the kitchen staff took their meals and was then occupied by a handful of nurses and one doctor. Each held a glass and were making merry, singing songs about winter, about loss, and about the joy of being with loved ones by crackling fires. They stood to attention when Eva entered, like a class of rowdy schoolchildren rumbled by the headmistress.

  “Please, sit down, finish your drinks,” she said, sitting. “I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Lady Eva.”

  “We were having a little solstice celebration while we had the chance,” said the woman sitting at the head of the table. “We’ve heard so much about you, it’s nice to meet you, at last, Lady Wolfe-Chase. I’m Doctor Cranch. These are nurses Cassian, Orson and Hext.”

  Eva smiled and politely bowed her head.

  “I wish to speak to you about my father’s condition.”

  “We could go somewhere more private, if you preferred?”

  “I doubt there’s anything regarding his well-being these fine people don’t already know?”

  The nurses exchanged glances with one another.

  “We’ll leave you to it. We’re finished anyway,” said Nurse Hext, draining his glass and rising from his seat.

  When they were alone, Doctor Cranch explained.

  “We were called in by Mrs. Knight about six months ago. Your father’s condition had rapidly worsened and it kept sliding. It was thought best to set up a medical unit here, partially so we could keep an eye on him and partially because he refused to move to the hospital.”

  “That sounds like Father.”

  “I’m sorry, Lady Eva, but I have to tell you he doesn’t have much time left. We’ve done everything we can, and, with modesty, I must say without our care up until now, he would have passed a good deal sooner. We’ve used radical techniques, pioneering methods, but we’ve reached our limit. I’m truly, truly sorry.”

  “Don’t be. There are few who will think the world worse off for not having Marley Chase in it.”

  She could tell her candidness had stunned the doctor.

  “I thank you and your team for all your efforts.”

  “We couldn’t have done it without Mrs. Knight.”

  “Oh?”

  “She was tenacious in her efforts to secure the best people. She keeps us all on our toes, coordinates our efforts. I truly believe she missed her calling—she should have been a navy admiral.”

  “Mmm, she certainly thrives on discipline,” Eva said.

  “I’ve insisted she and the household staff take themselves into town for the tar barrel parade tonight. They need time away.”

  “And she listened to you? How remarkable! How have you found living here?”

  “Oh, I mean, it’s wonderful. Or, it would be, under different circumstances. Such an amazing house.”

  “Isn’t it. Isn’t it,” Eva said. “I used to love coming down here when I was little and watching the staff work. Occasionally, if I was very good, Mrs. Tresloggett—the cook at the time—would give me a slice of sugared apple or maybe a warm scone fresh out of the ovens. I always thought she was such a lovely woman. As wide as she was tall, with a hairy mole on one cheek. She ran a tight ship down here. If you did what she said, she was as sweet as pie. If you didn’t, well…let’s just say I learned all of my most colourful language from her.”

  Dr. Cranch laughed.

  “I cried for three days when she died. Father wouldn’t let me attend her funeral. He said it wasn’t the done thing. The kitchen fell apart without her. It was never the same.”

  She was quiet for a moment, lost in the years gone by.

  “One last thing before I go, doctor. Do you have experience with illnesses of the mind?”

  “Oh yes. It’s not as uncommon as one might think. I’ve made a quite a study of it myself.”

  “Have you now?”

  “In the olden times, they used to drill into the heads of people to let out bad spirits or what have you. Thankfully, we’re more enlightened these days, but sadly most sufferers are treated no better than criminals. They are often chained up in prisons, living in filthy conditions. The gaolers are protecting the public from them, or so they say. But the overwhelming majority aren’t dangerous. They just need care.”

  Eva squinted and stared into the bright eyes of the young doctor. She had liked her instantly.

  “Thank you,” Eva said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  AT THE TOP of the kitchen stairs, Honor Knight stood waiting.

  “I believe you wanted to speak to me?” she said.

  “I did,” Lady Eva said, her eyes turning sharp, “and I think you know what I’m going to say.”

  Honor coughed slightly. “I’m sure I have no idea. Ma’am.”

  “Let us speak plainly, for once. You kept me under your thumb for years. If I were being generous, I’d say it was because after the loss of my dear mother you took it upon yourself to see to my care but inadvertently ended up being overprotective. Sadly, we both know the truth. You simply don’t like me. I was a wilful child and I made your job harder than you thought it should be.”

  “If we’re speaking plainly, ma’am?” Honor asked, receiving a nod in reply. “You were a spoiled brat who grew into a self-centred woman. All you thought about was enjoying yourself. You gave not a moment’s thought to this house, this family, the company, none of it. Hedonistic and selfish.”

  “Oh, please, do go on.”

  “Then you met her. The Merryapple Wolfe. The final nail in the coffin of your future.”

  “My future—” Lady Eva scoffed.

  “Your future, mapped out for you from before you were born and you threw it all away!”

  “I did nothing of the kind. I tore up the map and drew my own. You always hated how I knew my own mind, you hated how I disobeyed father, and you hate the fact that one day, not too long from now, I’m going to be the owner of this house.”

  Honor swallowed hard, her throat suddenly bone dry. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Let me be clear,” Lady Eva continued, “I know my father is fond of you and lets you away with quite a lot, but I am not my father. If you speak to myself or my wife in a disrespectful manner again, I will be left with no other option than to seek out a replacement for you.”

  “Then with respect, ma’am, may I point out I work for your father, not for you.”

  Lady Eva issued a little laugh. “Oh, I know. Otherwise you’d have been out on your ear years ago. But he’s on borrowed time. And he’s not the only one.”

  Honor held her tongue, fully aware of how far she could push her luck.

  “Borrowed time, Mrs. Knight,” Lady Eva said as she walked away. “Borrowed time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  AFTER GIVING UP the search for Edwin’s missing undergarments, Robin suggested they return to the Lion Lies Waiting. Edwin offered a humble and sincere apology to Mrs. Firebrace, who was initially dismissive, but when Edwin turned on the full might of his charm and warmth
, it would take a heart of stone not to melt.

  “She’s going to tell Mr. Reed about this, isn’t she?” Edwin said.

  “Almost certainly,” Robin said with a laugh. “An’ if she don’t, I definitely will!”

  They sat in the library bar and talked over breakfast.

  “Where’s Duncan?” Edwin asked between mouthfuls of bread jewelled with marmalade. “Not sure, actually,” Robin said, looking around him. “I checked ’is room earlier but no sign of ’im.”

  “Probably out having fun,” Edwin said.

  “Maybe. Although, that doesn’t really sound like Duncan, does it?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “’E were worried about comin’ ’ere, what if somethin’s ’appened?”

  “Let’s not panic yet. Maybe he found a nice man to spend the night with? An old friend? Or a new one?” Edwin said with a cheeky grin. “The chap from our first night here, perhaps? Oliver something or other?”

  “Could be, I suppose. ’E definitely didn’t ’ave no old friends ’ere,” Robin said, looking concerned. “I’ve got a bad feelin’, Edwin. I don’t like it. I made ’im come with us to Gull’s Reach, what if somethin’ ’appened on his way back from ‘Ester’s?” Robin said.

  Edwin wiped his mouth and swallowed the last of his tea.

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “If ’e is in trouble, I think I might know who can ’elp us.”

  “Oh? Who?”

  “You’ll see,” Robin said with a grin.

  Edwin nervously followed him up the staircase to the mezzanine of the tavern and stared open-mouthed as Robin banged on the door of the storeroom. A number of the people in the bar below watched with amazement while others gathered their coats and left. The door swung open and there stood a giant. Silver-bearded, grizzled and huge, in one hand he held a lit pipe, while the other held the door, looking as though it were ready and able to crush it to splinters.

  “Come to wish me a merry solstice, have you?” he jeered.

  His voice was low and deep, but it carried across the room. All other conversation in the bar had ceased. The colossal man beckoned them to take a seat at the table. He sat against the wall and tapped on his small clay pipe.