Page 7 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
And here he goes again with this arrogance,Penelope sighed. “Is it that much of bother, brother? If I recall, you do need another horse yourself.”
“I do,” Edward mused while reaching for the wine jug. “But I can easily send someone to get it for me.”
“Why?” Penelope asked. “Are you needed here?”
“Not particularly.”
“The town then?”
“I do not think so,” Edward replied.
“Then go,” Penelope said. “Besides, you have not seen Lord Hillbrook in months, take this time to get familiar and get yourself a horse that does not have a buttress foot and a lazy eye.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “You just want me to leave.”
Penelope’s eyes widened in mock shock, “Oh, was I too subtle?”
“I love seeing you two interact,” the Baron laughed. “Indulge our lady, Dawson. Come with me to London tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Edward huffed. “But Penelope, I will leave Mr. Gastrell in charge. Please do not disobey him.”
“I will do my best,” Penelope replied with the edges of her lips curving.
“You are just saying that to placate me,” Edward sniffed.
Taking her refilled glass of wine, Penelope smiled over the rim, “Not too subtle at all then.”
* * *
The Dawson manor was an old Tudor-style house with a steeply-pitched gable roof, ornate masonry chimneys, and embellished doorways. As Heath cantered his mount down the large driveway that parted impeccably-trimmed lawns on both sides, he could see the wide groupings of ground floor windows and inserts of old sun-burnished timber between the brick walls.
His packed bag was nestled behind him and the back of the saddle. The pleasant temperature of the month was much more pleasing than the torrential rains of August. The few light clouds drifting over the cerulean skies, the cool air of the day and even little drizzling dew did not sour his composure.
By arrangement, he took the side road to go to the back of the manor and there met with Mr. Gastrell who showed him to the servants’ entrance, the ground floor of the left wing where the servants lived and then, to his room. A wide double-hung window gave him a clear panorama of the backyard. Bare wood was under his feet, a simple armoire was to the side and a single bed framed with functional iron rails was in the center. Laying on the drab grey sheets was a simple uniform of black shirt and trousers.
“The uniform is temporary,” Mr. Gastrell said. “The tailor is making the right one with the family arms on it. Until then, you will be wearing this. Two other sets are in the drawers. I understand that you know that you are responsible for the upkeep of your apparel.”
“I do. Is Lord Allerton awake yet?”
“No,” Mr. Gastrell shook his head. “But when he is, he will not be here for long. I believe he is going to Tattersalls this day.”
“Understood. What is my first task, Mr. Gastrell?”
“I will introduce you to the staff this morning, and then your task is to open the shutters in the main rooms and take the coal from the cellar outback into the three sitting rooms,” the butler explained. “And then I believe our stablemaster, Mr. Cowell, needs a hand in the stables also.”
“I will be out in a moment,” Heath replied. “Thank you.”
“Very good,” Mr. Gastrell nodded and promptly left the room.
Heath closed the doors behind the butler and then took out his meager belongings, hair combs and brush, and bathing rags. In the drawers, he settled his few pants, shirts, nightshirts, and underclothes. Swiftly changing out into the dark clothes given to him, he took a moment to comb his hair and brushed a hand over his chin. Luckily, he had shaved a day ago so there was no unseemly stubble on his chin.
Nodding, he went out, and Mr. Gastrell took him to the kitchen where they met the cook, a few scullery girls, and some blushing maids. He then began his duties, opening the indoor window shutters and fastening them. Making the rounds throughout the ground-floor sitting rooms he opened all and then went left by the servants’ door to the coal cellar, only to stop.
The problem? “Where in God’s name is the place?”
Mr. Gastrell had given him little information on where exactly the coal cellar was as the row of uniform brick buildings about a hundred feet from him, looked exactly alike.
“It is the one to the far right,” a soft voice said.
