Page 99 of Storm of Bells
‘Oh, I don’t really care. Just make sure it’ssomething sturdy and practical.’
‘Certainly, Miss. May I ask…are you justpassing through or planning on staying in the area for awhile?’
There was an almost desperate longing in thewoman’s voice. No wonder. With Mr Rikkard Ambrose as the onlyresident representative of the gentry, I could imagine a store forlady’s finery had considerable trouble with finding a customerbase.
Well, let’s see what we can do to changethat, shall we?
‘Actually, I’m planning on settling downhere.’
Mrs Jenkins nearly dropped the entire stackof boxes and herself. Eyes wide, she wobbled around on spaghettilegs to face me. ‘You…you are?’
‘Yes. This seems to be a lovely littlevillage.’
Mrs Jenkins’s shoulders slumped.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘What, you don’t like ithere?’
She gave a sad little shake of her aged head.‘Don’t misunderstand me, Miss. This is a lovely place. A littlepiece of heaven on earth. But even heaven may not be perfect whenSatan sneaks in.’
Frowning, I took a step forward. The poor oldlady looked so vulnerable just then. ‘What? Do you mean to tell methere are some undesirable individuals in the neighbourhood?’
If so, they wouldn’t be here for long! Thiswas my territory now!
Mrs Jenkins glanced from left to right in away that clearly signalled, ‘I’m itching to gossip bu…’
‘You can trust me,’ I told her earnestly,placing a hand on my heart. ‘You don’t need to be afraid of whoeveris throwing his weight around in these parts. I won’t breathe aword of what you tell me.’
‘Well, Miss…’ She leaned forward, loweringher voice. ‘You look like a nice young lady, and you said youplanned on living here, so I have no choice but to warn you. Butplease don’t let this go any further, will you?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Things have been going downhill around herefor a while now. Ever sincehearrived.’
‘He?’ I leaned closer, all ears. ‘Do tell!Who is this sinister personage? Maybe I can do something tohelp.’
She shook her head, wildly. ‘No, please don’ttry! You’d only get yourself in danger. This man is ruthless, andwithout a modicum of conscience or decorum. And worst of all…he’sthe lord of the manor!’
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
‘P-pardon?’
‘Aye, you heard right.’ She nodded solemnly.‘The lord of the manor.’ She pulled her wrinkly face into agrimace. ‘Or perhaps I’d better call him the furniture salesman ofthe manor. He…he…’ She lowered her voice until it was a merewhisper. ‘Hesellsthings! Alordwhosellsthings! Out of his own home! Can you imagine?’
‘Somehow, I can, yes.’
‘Well.’ Mrs Jenkins huffed. ‘I don’t knowwhat’s fashionable in London, but such things are not consideredproper around these parts. Lords are there to be lords. To own landand be lordly, not to interfere in normal people’s business. Notthat his abomination of a “store” would be competition for me.’Straightening her crooked back with pride, or at least trying to,she gestured around at her dilapidated little shop. ‘I sell ladies’items, nothing like those fancy luxury things up at the manor. Butever since the old lord died and this…thispersonfromLondon bought the estate, there hasn’t been a single ball up at themanor! Not one! Even though that new lord stayed at the place morethan once, there wasn’t a single time he invited guests over for aball or a picnic! Isn’t that incredible?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I murmured, my voice low.‘I find it quite credible.’
‘What was that, Miss?’
‘Nothing, nothing. Do go on.’
‘And since no guests are coming to stay anymore, practically no ladies end up coming to my store. And as forthe new lord of the manor himself…’
‘Let me guess. He’s not interested in ladiesor ladies’ finery?’
‘Do earthworms fly?’
