Page 42 of Wicked Games

The footman looked familiar because I remembered him as… a footman?

Staying close to the wall as I walked, just in case I stumbled, I held one hand up to my temple and massaged my aching head as my faltering steps, cushioned by the thick hall carpet, brought me closer to the respite of my room.

As I was about to round a corner into the east wing, where the footman who was a footman told me were my rooms, I could hear hushed voices. Stopping, I pressed closer against the wall and into the shadows, having no desire to encounter any more familiar but not really familiar faces for the day.

Peeking around the corner, I could see it was two maids. One had a feather duster, the other a handful of linens. They were chatting as they went about their duties.

“What are you going to do with all that money?”

“I’m going to buy the biggest television I can find.”

“A television? You have to think bigger than that! We’re earning a million pounds at the end of this year. A million pounds! That’s crazy.”

The other maid smiled as she caught her friend’s enthusiasm. “And who knows? Maybe this reality show will be a big hit and we’ll be both rich and famous!”

The first maid threw a hand over her mouth. I had to strain to hear what she said next. In a hushed whisper she said, “Fuck! I forgot about all the cameras for a second!”

Then looking up at the hallway ceiling she called out to no one in particular, “Sorry! Won’t happen again!”

The other maid grabbed her friend by the elbow and they hurried down the hallway, too concerned with their own conversation to notice me lurking around the corner.

“Be careful. They’ll toss you off the cast in a heartbeat without any notice or second warning. That’s what happened to Tom,” whispered the second maid harshly just as she passed me.

“Who’s Tom?”

“He’s the footman who was dumb enough to let his cell phone ring just as the main cast arrived. So stupid. They wouldn’t even let him say goodbye to any of us. He was called into the duke’s study and then the next thing you know, he was gone.”

Her friend responded but by now they were too far away for me to hear. Casting a furtive glance over my shoulder, I hurried the rest of the way and didn’t stop till I was pressing my back against my closed bedroom door. With trembling hands, I reached behind me to feel for the knob to lock it. There was no key or lock button. Of course there wasn’t.

Slowly sinking down to the floor, I kept my back pressed against the door as I curled my knees up to my chest and began to rock back and forth. My stomach rolled. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

He had come close to having me doubt my own sanity… so close.

I didn’t know what was going on here, but I knew Richard was involved. With sickening clarity, I realized that this entire scheme had been for my benefit, but why? The man had never even spoken to me other than a few days ago.

To put together such an elaborate hoax would take a deep, pathological obsession. Surely an obsession that deep would have left clues? My noticing Richard staring at me a bit too long. Unexplained flowers but no note. Missing items from my dressing room. Blocked phone calls that hung up the moment I answered.

But there had been nothing.

Did it really matter?

I was here now, at his mercy.

I needed to escape.

All soreness and exhaustion forgotten, I flew across the room to the dress wardrobe. Throwing open the heavy mahogany doors, I began tearing through the dresses to find something suitable. Falling to my knees, I ran my hands over the wooden base searching for a latch or some sign of a hidden drawer but there was nothing. Richard had been too methodical in his planning to be careless enough to leave a pair of jeans or sneakers lying around where I might find them.

Well, two could play at this game.

Rising, I smoothed out my now hopelessly wrinkled skirts. Taking a deep breath, I went over to the fireplace and yanked on the tapestry bell pull that was just to the left. I did not have to wait long for Mary to appear.

I wanted to shout and scream at her. How could you? Did you know what he had planned for me all along? I thought we were friends! But I didn’t. I kept my composure.

I needed to play the game.

Remembering to use her last name, I asked, “Parker, I’m in the mood to do a little sewing, could you provide me with thread, needle, and scissors?”

“If something is torn or needs mending, my lady, I can take care of it for you.”

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