“I didn’t want to intervene, not until I could see the person in broad daylight and speak with them personally when they returned to the scene of the crime, which is the case now.”
“I…I only wanted my locket. That was all.”
“Ah, but that is what you are telling me now because you have been caught. I know you returned last night because you wanted more. Not intent on a diet of berries and apples alone, you wanted meat too.”
“Fish…?” I asked in bewilderment.
“No, not fish. Much, much bigger than that! I don’t know how you managed to pull it off, but if you are a sole worker, then I have to give you credit in managing to steal twenty-seven of my prime in-calf heifers.”
“No, no…no! That wasn’t me!” I shook my head. “I can’t handle cows and sheep. I don’t know the first thing about them. It certainly was not me, but I did see the people responsible, and they were using horses.”
The man clicked his tongue four times. He paced judiciously back and forth with his hands behind his back, only stopping to speak. “So you are not some miraculous animal worker. You had accomplices to aid you? Oh, how very disappointing. I would have gladly overlooked your crime in favor of hiring you as a gifted animal handler.” Davenport resumed his pacing. He turned to face me and took two abrupt steps toward me. “Who was it then? Seeing you were an accomplice, opening and shutting the gate and so forth.”
“I am not an accomplice! I had nothing to do with it!”
“That’s what all criminals say when they’re caught. You are working for a rustling gang, and now you are trying to save your own hide.” He clicked his tongue, slowly shaking his head. “Well, well, well, a liar, a thief, a traitor, not good qualities I’m afraid! I ought to shoot you right here and now.” He slowly put a hand into his tweed pocket.
“Oh please, please believe me. I admit to stealing berries, and apples, and the walnuts each year, and mushrooms, oh, and those lovely red plums, all those things you wouldn’t notice. But never, never on my aunt’s life would I ever steal cows or sheep—ever!”
“Convince me otherwise. I have much time on my hands.” He took another step toward me.
“I came here last night to find my locket, but failing that I returned back to the lane. That was when I saw the two horsemen herding the cows through that white gate of yours, the one closest to the bridge. I didn’t think anything of it at the time and well…I hid in the grass. Then another man rode up from the lane and said, ‘If someone asks anything, tell them the owner likes them moved at night when it is quiet.’ It sounded genuine to me, to prevent the animals from stress, because as the man had said the cows were carrying offspring and he didn’t want them to miscarry.”
“These men, can you describe them?”
“Well, not really, naturally because it was dark and I was hidden. I did hear that one of them was called Spike Linklater, though.” I looked at Davenport, hoping he might know the name, but his face was blank. “All I can say is that two were gruff-sounding men, you know, the usual inn-dwelling types; and the man who was talking to them instructed them to meet him on Wednesday at the Old Rose Inn. He was the one they addressed as ‘milord,’ and he had a voice that sounded just like your lot.”
“My lot, your lot, a thief is a thief no matter the class or the gender!” He looked at me sideways.
“Obviously, I’m guilty of everything in your eyes. But for the life of me, I did not poach your stupid animals, and I can swear on the bible too.” He glared at me mirthfully this time. I looked pleadingly into his eyes and cried, “I apologize for the theft of fruit and berries, sir.”
Davenport made me jump as he yelled, “Not only should you apologize for the theft, but what you did to me!” The man leaned forward, aiming two fingers like a pistol to his temple, at the dark bruise. It could have been a funny scene in other situations via another person; however, it was no laughing matter as I feared what the consequences would be dealt from his hand.
“Oh please, milord, I am sorry for hurting you; it was just that I thought…I thought you and your friends were going to…”
“I would never hurt you. I did try to reassure you that I wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop you hitting me with a rock upon my very property, that, come to think of it, is a crime worthy of a long jail sentence—or a bullet!”
I clasped my hands before me as if in prayer. “I am sorry for everything I did to you. I was frightened because the other men…they were talking like they were going to…” I burst into tears and sobbed into my hands.
“Now, now, please don’t be upset; nothing untoward would have happened to you, not in my presence, at least. The lads were just joking amongst one another.” Davenport allowed me time to compose myself before saying, “I suppose I could forgive you, but on one condition.” I looked up at him, aware my face was a tear-streaked mess. “I want you to come with me to the Old Rose Inn.”
“Yes, yes, certainly, sir. I might be able to identify them by their voices.”
“I expect you to be waiting outside the church on Wednesday at eight o’clock in the morning. I shall send my driver, Johnson, to come pick you up.” Davenport began striding off. “Oh, and, Miss Smith, please dress up in something nice.”
I cried after him, “But what shall I tell my family?”
“Say you have a job at Evercrest Hall.”
I watched him walk out of sight. Moments later, I heard the sound of a horse galloping off. Obviously, he had tethered it out of the way in anticipation of catching an apple tree raider.
»»•««
“Where’s this cress you promised us?” demanded Aunt Pam. “I was looking forward to using it in the stew.” She stared forlornly at the pot simmering away on the range next to the steaming tea billy.
“Oh, I was sidetracked, but I have some fabulous news!”
“This better be good.” Aunt had her hands on her hips.
“I have a job at the big house!”
“You mean Evercrest Hall?” Aunt Pam exclaimed, a face of disbelief.
“Yes, at the Davenport’s!”
“Oh my, how did you come about this?” Aunt Pam looked overcome with weakness as she sat at the table.
“I met Mr. Davenport.”
“You mean Mr. Ewan Davenport?” My aunt’s nostrils flared.
“No. It was his nephew, Albert Davenport.” I noticed Aunt sighed with relief. “He said there was a job going and he had decided to give it to me.”
“Did he recognize you as the…fruit thief?”
“No,” I lied.
“How on earth did you meet him?” Aunt Pam looked sideways and squinted at me.
“We were talking down at the river, and that was when he said there was a job going at his place. I happily offered my services.”
Aunt Pam brushed her hands off of imaginary flour and slowly got up. “What position is it for?”
“Ah, he said…a maid.” I felt the blush of shame spread over my cheeks.
“Of course it would be a maid, but what kind? There are chambermaids, parlor maids, kitchen maids, laundry maids, so many jobs in a big house like that.”
“It’s only as a”—I cringed at the lie—“chambermaid, that is all.”
“Chambermaids are higher up the order. Pray, how did you get a job like that straight away?” She shrugged. “It is surprising that he is organizing staff. From what I’ve heard it has always been his guardians who have been in charge of the hiring, or rather that woman.” Aunt Pam glared angrily at the stove as if it was “that woman.” “Maybe the young man is practicing pushing his weight since he will be taking over the reins in a few years; unless he gets married sooner, then he will take over then.”
I felt uneasy at the thought of him marrying. Why?
Aunt Pam cautiously spooned tea into the pot. “Maria, are you sure he offered you a job? You have to be careful, you know. You are a pretty young thing. Some men can have hidden motives, pretending to employ gullible girls so that th
ey can have their wicked way with them.”
I laughed. If my new employer had wanted to show his hidden motives, he’d have taken advantage of a girl trespassing on his property and in the solitude of a blackberry spot. Not that I cared to mention the fact to my aunt.
“It is not funny, my dear. You never know what those types are capable of; that goes for all men in fact, except for my boys, they would never take advantage of a woman.” She adamantly shook her head.
Scoffing inwardly at my aunt’s high esteem for her own boys, who sometimes returned home after a night of binge drinking and telling yarns about all the loose woman at the public house in the city, I asked, “So, Aunt, did you ever have your own set of problems when you used to work for that old Lord What’s His Name?”
“Oh, goodness no, he would have been a cradle snatcher if he had. I don’t think he was capable of loving a woman; his love was for mammon alone.” The billy bubbled away. Aunt Pam grabbed the handle using a tea towel and poured the steaming liquid into the teapot. “When do you start work?”
“On Wednesday,” I said, looking anywhere that wasn’t my aunt.
“Hmm, maybe they had a new staffer that upped and left. A few of them have done so since that woman took over. Nevertheless, who is to say that he is playing games with you, my dear?”
“Oh, Aunt, if he does plan to have his wicked way with me, I can kick him hard where it hurts. And remember I can run like the wind. You will just have to hope and pray that he is not the monster you regard him as.”
Aunt Pam sighed. “It’s a fair journey. Perhaps we could brush up old Big Red…oh no, I forgot.” Aunt Pam let out a hearty laugh. “His tail might betray your evil doings.”
I giggled. “Don’t worry, his lordship has arranged for a driver to come and pick me up.”
“My-oh-my, traveling like royalty now, eh? That solves that problem, now all we have to worry about is how you’re going to act, what you’re going to say, and what we’re going to do with your hair.”
“Yes, Aunt, as you say, but without the horse hair.”
“So, he didn’t notice you?” Aunt Pam clicked her tongue with disbelief. “Well, I’ll be, my disguise indeed worked long enough for you to fall from his memory.” She smiled and filled the cups to the brim, placed them at the table, and sat. “By the way, miss, where is your locket?”
“Oh, err, the chain broke. I know how to fix it. I just haven’t got around to doing so.”
“Such a precious thing that is, only reminder of your mother. The fire took everything else.”
“Aunt, please. I hate talking about it.” The fire was my mother’s strangler’s way of trying to rid the evidence of his crime. Fortunately, an unseen hero had heard my screams from within the wardrobe.
“All right, my dear, let us discuss this job instead, eh?”
Chapter Six
Wednesday morning had arrived. I was dressed in my Sunday best. My hair was pinned neatly into a bun at the neck, although much smaller in size, due to the rash haircut the previous Sunday.
“Maria, you must wear your bonnet this time to keep your hair neatly in place, and do wear your gloves, for you will portray to the family that you take pride in your appearance.”
“As if I don’t already,” I muttered, putting on my work boots.
“Not those, Maria! Wear your church shoes. Goodness knows how you’d cope without your wise old aunt.”
I told Aunt that I would be waiting down by the church, so it was easy for the driver to see me. Aunt agreed it was a good idea and it would be a respectable impression on the driver, seeing me waiting outside a place of worship.
The time had come, and I said, “Goodbye, Aunt.”
Aunt Pam quickly pulled me into the folds of her arms, and said, “This could be the making of you, young miss…that is if he is genuine about wanting to employ you as a maid.”
“Yes, of course he will be.”
“Well, at least you’ll have your independence. Who knows, you might meet someone and be married within the year.”
“Aw! Aunt Pam! Get away with you.”
The wait was long; it was well after eight thirty. The only good thing was that the sun was blanketed by fluffy white clouds. I entertained the thought that gripped my heart painfully—I bet he had changed his mind. I paced back and forth, trying to forget the feeling that the same person who had hurt me many years before had repeated the past by abandoning me again. The feeling was like someone had stomached me with a solid punch; and that feeling intensified as the minutes mounted. Another ten minutes. Every cart that passed was a villager or an outsider heading through to the next village. Seeing another old rickety cart coming, with an old man seated upon it, I gave up waiting and began for home.
There was a cough from the old man as the horse and cart rattled alongside me. “Excuse me, young lass, you wouldn’t happen to be Miss Smith?”
I looked at the sprightly blue eyes looking down under a wide-brimmed, floppy hat that cast a shadow over his gray mustache. He was dressed in his Sunday best too, but the cart, which I analyzed with distaste, was barely fit for carrying sacks of spuds on it.
“Are you the Davenport driver?” I hoped not.
“Aye, me lass, that be correct.”
“I don’t like the look of that thing. Are you sure it is safe to sit upon?” How dare Davenport demoralize me by sending me something fit for a dead criminal!
“Of course it tis, me lass. Why it be as strong as any fine carriage in all the whole countryside.”
I scoffed out a response. “That there is a death trap. I’m not sitting on that.” The inferiority complex was ticking away within. I had been hoping for the pretty trap that I occasionally saw Davenport’s pretty aunt sitting in, with her pretty blonde hair, and her pretty outfits, and her pretty hat, condescendingly overlooking condescendingly those who watched with fascination and envy.
“We best be off. ‘is lordship is a very, very impatient man.”
“I have decided I am not traveling in that. You can go on without me.”
“But, miss, you’d be making ‘is lordship extremely angry by not coming. E’s waiting at the gatehouse as we speak and it will be poor lil ole me who will get the sharp end of the stick. Oh please, miss, I beg of you, or I might lose my job.” His voice quivered, which made me look up at him with pity.
“Of course you won’t get dismissed. Just tell him that I’ve changed my mind. Besides, he should know better than to send a kindly old gentleman in a piece of rubbish like that.”
As I walked off, another voice called from behind. “For goodness sakes, Miss Smith, I am doing my best to be someone I am not. If I can drive in this, surely you can sit in it.”
I spun about to see the old man climbing down the cart as fit as a young man. He said with a chuckle, “I fooled you, didn’t I? Just like you fooled me with that horse hair trick!”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“No, when comparing the evidence with the source, it happened to come from the same horse I saw you riding on before you had the mishap, the same horse in that yard over there. He pointed to Big Red, standing in the yard next door to my aunt’s cottage with his brush-like tail.
With resignation, I replied, “Yes, it was a good disguise. So, was that where you got the inspiration from?”
“Perhaps it was. At least I wasn’t using a disguise to shield being caught, young lass.” He winked. “Come on, get up with you. We have much traveling to do.” He led me by the hand and assisted me up into the seat. “This cart is safer than you give it credit for; sturdier than some of those so-called fine gigs that race recklessly on the coach road. It is just the outside appearance that looks old and decrepit. The undercarriage beneath is young and strong, just like the man standing before you.”
I giggled.
He was about to climb aboard when a woman’s voice rang from the cottage gate. “Yoo-hoo! Maria.”
Davenport said, “It seems that woman
has mistaken you for another.”
I bowed my head in shame.
“Maria, for goodness sakes…” Aunt Pam unlatched the gate and then marched toward us, holding my gloves.
“Hello there,” Aunt Pam cried, her eyes lighting up at the man who had removed his hat to show a shock of thick gray hair. “Sorry for holding you up. She left her gloves behind.” Walking to the passenger side, my aunt pushed the Sunday whites toward me. “What did I tell you about you not coping without your aunt’s help, eh?” Aunt Pam turned and winked at the man. “Please, don’t let on to the family about her forgetfulness. They might think they have to employ two for Maria’s memory’s sake.”
“You needn’t worry, I won’t tell a soul… err…how do I address such a fine-looking woman?” Davenport grabbed her hand, lowered his lips, and kissed it. I nearly fell off my seat.
Aunt Pam laughed while flapping one hand at him. “Oh, you’re a charmer. My name is Mrs. Pamela Broughton, Maria’s aunt. I am a widow and have been for many, many years.”
I cringed, head bowed still, the gloves getting the air squeezed out of every fingertip, and felt the burn of Davenport’s stares. He replied in his phony voice, “It is certainly a pleasure to meet you. However, we’d best be off now. Would ‘ate to keep the family waiting.” I looked across to see Davenport’s lips smile although his eyes weren’t.
“Yes, of course. I trust all will go well. Oh and, Maria, I did not hear the magic words.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” I mumbled. My cheeks were as hot as a blacksmith’s furnace.
The cart rattled off, leaving Aunt Pam standing in the middle of the lane with the biggest smile for all to see. The flesh of her upper arm wobbled through her blouse sleeve as she waved. Meanwhile, I continued cringing in the aftermath, not helped by the silence from the driver until the village was well out of sight.
“Ann or Maria; or is it short for Anna Maria. Her bad attributes are revealed to me each day—the liar, the thief, the traitor, and the imposter.” He clicked his tongue to show displeasure. The horse, thinking the tongue-clicking was a command to go faster, trotted quickly. “Steady there, boy!” He pulled the horse back to a slower trot, and once in control, turned to me. “What is your real name?”
The Heir to Evercrest Hall Page 7