Page 10 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
Juliet was Kenneth's mother, a Duchess, and an avid collector of antiques. She had worked tirelessly to perfect the house, combing through the furniture and draperies until everything was just right. She took great pride in her home and had finally reached a point at which she was satisfied with its interior.
She had instructed the house staff with a strict regimen for the dusting and cleaning of furniture, and often she joined in to ensure everything was done properly. The house she kept in place of her husband, who had passed away just two years before. For Juliet, the house was something she could control, manipulate, mold, and ensure never diminished. It was her jewel, her hobby, and her sanctuary.
On that particular evening, Juliet had taken her supper alone. When she ate alone, she always made short work of the food, as to be done with the task as fast as possible. Once finished, she would take down one glass of brandy in a swift salute to her late husband, and then retire by the fire to read. That was precisely where she found herself when her housekeeper entered, causing her to look up from the pages of her novel.
“Your Grace, I am sorry to disturb you.”
“What is it, Mrs. Redford?” she asked over the top of the binding.
“There's a coach that can be seen coming up the drive.” the housekeeper replied, wiping her palms on her apron to be sure they were clean in case she had to touch anything.
“A coach?” Juliet inquired, closed the book. “What is the hour?” She turned her head to look at the clock behind her. “Five past ten, good heavens, a coach you say. It is fortunate I am still awake.” She set the book down and lifted her graceful frame out of the comfortable sofa.
“It must be Kenneth back from London, but at such an odd hour? I did not expect him until Tuesday.” Juliet pondered, draping her shawl about her. Then a seed of worry took hold of her. “Oh dear, I do hope nothing has happened to him.”
“I am sure he is fine, Your Grace.” Mrs. Redford offered.
“Go and find Beatrice, have her ready in case he requires food.” Juliet dismissed her and left the cozy study, making her way through the massive hallways of the mansion. She came finally to the parlor, and from its grand passageway she went into the ever-clean mud room. “Open it up.” she waved at the footman, who hurried to swing the heavy mahogany doors apart.
Juliet could see the coach coming into view, rattling towards the house. From there she could see the moonlit outline of Daniel, Kenneth's manservant, who sat beside the driver. She held her hand aloft and waved and saw him wave back.
If it were bad news, he would not have waved to me. The coach rolled to a stop before the grand entryway of the manor beneath the tiled overhang. “Is everything alright, Daniel?” she called from the stairs as the manservant hopped down from his bench.
“It is a woman, Your Grace.” he answered, removing his rain-soaked gloves and opening the carriage door.
“A woman?” Juliet repeated to herself, unsure of what to expect.What was he talking about? What could he mean by that?
Her son climbed down from the coach and landed his heavy leather boots on the one bit of dry cobblestone within miles.
“Good evening, Μother.” he remarked, tipping his hat.
“Kenneth, what is this about a woman?” Juliet asked, but her question was answered the moment Kenneth helped the woman down from the coach. She was bruised, her eye black and swollen, her clothing torn and bloody.
Juliet was taken aback by the sight, overwhelmed and unsure how to proceed. Juliet hated not knowing the proper thing to do.
“Mother, this is Miss Leah Benson.” Kenneth grunted while shifting the woman's weight onto his shoulders, holding her arm around his. “We must get her inside.”
“Yes, yes of course.” Juliet scrambled to ensure the door was open and called forward a few servants to assist in the process of loading the woman into the house.
“I'm fine, really.” the woman protested, but she was not fine, and the servants took her up in their arms.
“Take her to one of the guest rooms.” Juliet fussed. “Hurry now, come on.”
They all limped her down the hall to the nearest guest room, where the bed was hurriedly made up. Juliet had a moment of horror when she realized how filthy this woman was, and that she had brought so much dirt and dampness into her home. The Duchess managed to push this feeling aside after looking again upon the terrible bruises and realized that this woman was horribly hurt; it went far beyond what she had initially assumed. In truth, she was not certain what she had assumed when she had seen Miss Benson emerge from the carriage, but now she knew the extent of the situation.
Upon being certain that the problem was contained to a single room, and that the woman was in good tender hands, Juliet located her son to berate him. He was not hard to find. He was in his father's office, sipping contemplatively on a glass of expensive liquor as he was apt to do, imagining himself the slyest and brightest person in all the land.
“What have you done?” Juliet broke his stare out of the moonlit window, lighting one of the oil lamps to shatter Kenneth's ambiance.
“Nothing! I did not do that!” Kenneth was clearly surprised by her appearance and took to the defense immediately.
“Of course not.” Juliet scolded. “I mean, who is she and why have you brought her here? I assume you must have encountered her on the road, no? She had to be traveling to be so dirty. Was she alone? What of her traveling companions?”
“One question at a time, Mother.” Kenneth held his hands up openly. “As I have said, her name is Miss Leah Benson. She is of London.”
“But where did you find her?”
“Why, London.” Kenneth admitted, seemingly puzzled by her line of questioning.
