Page 96 of Storm of Bells
I felt a strong urge to pull my hair out. Or,better yet, pull Mr Ambrose’s hair out. One at a time. And thenstrap him to a table and torture him with a feather, a bucket fullof ice water and a corkscrew. I took a deep breath.
‘Why did you stay, then?’ I demanded. ‘Ifeveryone else left because they didn’t get paid, why would thebutler stay?’
A bit of red tinged the old gentleman’sface.
‘I, um…am not the butler, Miss.’
I blinked. ‘You’re not?’
‘No. I, um…was a footman in the service ofLady Magnolia Vincent, at her estate about a dozen miles west ofhere. But then the lady decided I was too old for being a footman,and she wanted someone young and spry to carry her luggage. So shemade use of her prerogative to end my employment, Miss.’
‘The old witch!’
‘I would perhaps not express it quite asstrongly, Miss, but you succinctly expressed my thoughts on thematter.’
‘So what happened then?’ I asked, eying himwith interest.
‘Well…I wandered for several miles, withoutthe slightest idea what to do. At my age I was never going to findanother position. Then I came across this place, and, well…’ Thered in his cheeks intensified. It looked rather cute, like a littleshrivelled apple still hanging on its tree in fall. ‘There werelots of empty rooms, and in one I found an empty butler’s uniform.No one seemed to mind my staying as long as I didn’t ask for pay.Some of the wealthier ladies and gentlemen who came to buy items offurniture sometimes gave me tips for opening doors or fetchingthings. I get by. Mr Ambrose has generously permitted mypresence.’
‘What you mean is that Mr Ambrose hasgenerously permitted you to work for him for free!’
‘Well, um…yes, Miss.’
I cracked my knuckles. ‘Benson?’
‘Yes, Miss?’
‘Consider yourself hired! You are nowofficially declared the butler.’
All the colour that had tinged the oldgentleman’s cheeks vanished in one swoop.
‘B-butler?’
He spoke the word with the same reverencenormal people would reserve for ‘king’, or ‘revered sovereign ofthe universe’. And well…in a way, that wasn’t too far off. Thebutler was the king of the servants, just as the housekeeper wasthe queen. For me to make him butler meant that every other servantwould now have to answer to him.
If there were other servants, that is.
One thing after another, Lilly.
Benson raised a trembling hand. ‘I hardlydare ask, Miss,’ he whispered. ‘I do by no means wish to appeargrasping. But, as a butler, shall I receive w…wa…’
‘Of course you’ll get wages!’
‘But what about Mr Ambro—’
‘You,’ I cut him off with a grim smile, ‘justleave Mr Ambrose to me.’
The old gentleman’s hands trembled withexcitement as he clutched them together. ‘God be praised, amiracle!’
One corner of my mouth quirked up. ‘Notquite. Just a Lilly.’ Extending my hand, I gave the old gentleman’sshoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘You, Sir, may now consider yourself theofficial butler of…of… what is this place called again?’
The colour returned to Benson’s cheeks. ‘Um,I believe the “Ambrose Emporium for Fine Furniture”, Miss.’
The two of us exchanged a look.
‘Oh, hell no,’ I said.
He nodded gravely. ‘I’m afraid so, MyLady.’
