The Maid and the Footman by Don Jacobson

Author:Don Jacobson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2016-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter XVIII

Annie wound her way through the kitchen and up to the first floor, keeping quiet as a dormouse. She assumed that Jonas had retired to his cell beneath the eaves, but she could not be too careful.

The conversation she had overheard had shaken her very soul. For the past month, she had been strangely comforted in the knowledge that the attack was a random act. To now know that the assault on Miss Bennet and the attempt on Miss Margaret was part of a greater threat to England’s security—and that it was not yet over—stretched the limits of her comprehension.

People in my station are hardly citizens of Great Britain. Oh, the gentlefolk like to talk up how ‘every man and woman must play their part’ to defend the nation. But that translates to ‘fill the ranks of the army’ and ‘wash those clothes’. The games they play with the lives of others are insane.

As she moved down the darkened hallways toward the foyer and great staircase, she passed by the closed doors of the library. The dull sound of men’s voices vibrated through the panels. Although she could not hear the words distinctly, she immediately recognized the measured cadence of General Fitzwilliam followed by Henry’s deeper baritone reply.

She knocked on the door, bringing the conversation to a halt.

Henry opened the door. Looking down at Anne, a great smile illuminated his features. His welcoming look washed away the past half hour of tension. In relief, she addressed him, “Oh, Mr. Wilson. Thank God it is you. I have been so frightened. I need to talk with you.”

Fitzwilliam stepped up next to Wilson, great concern marking his face, “Is something amiss with Miss Bennet, Annie? Must we send for Dr. Campbell?”

Annie immediately replied, “No…no, my Lord. Nothing is wrong with Miss Bennet: nothing at all.

“However, there is much that is wrong here at Cecil House.”

Both men quickly glanced at one another. Wilson shook his head at the General, silently asserting that he had told Annie nothing. Fitzwilliam gave an imperceptible nod and turned away from the door curtly saying, “Please join us in the library.”

A knot once again formed in Annie’s stomach, and she looked to Henry for more information.

“It will be all right, Miss Reynolds,” Henry said in voice just above a whisper, “The General is directing some inquiries resulting from the attack in the Park. I have been assisting him.”

Henry led Annie to a sofa near the fireplace and settled her on it. He would allow the General to ask the questions…but the man had better be careful with his Anne.

Richard settled into a leather-upholstered armchair opposite the maid.

“Would you care for some sherry, Annie, to settle your nerves? Wilson, please do the honors and bring me a whiskey. Pour yourself a measure, too.”

Henry went to the sideboard where the crystal decanters stood. He poured a half-glass of Madiera for Anne. After serving her, he grabbed the whiskey and two heavy-bottomed tumblers and carried them across the room. He poured amber liquid into each glass and handed one to his General.

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