Page 77 of The Maid's Secret

I felt as though I’d been slapped. His words were so shocking I lost the ability to produce my own.

“Good,” he said. “We have an agreement. Let sleeping dogs lie, Flora.” He opened another drawer. “You can go now,” he said as he rifled through it. “I’ll be down when I’m good and ready.”

I backed out of Papa’s office and hurried down the stairs to my parents.

“Ah, there she is,” said Papa as I entered the banquet room.

“Where’s Algie?” Priscilla asked.

“In the powder room,” I replied. “I expect he’ll be down shortly.” Why I lied for him, I can’t quite say, but somehow I knew that was my duty as his wife-to-be. I took my seat at the table.

As Algernon’s parents and mine chatted, I pretended to eat a scone, but my stomach had curdled.

Mrs.Mead appeared at my side. “Are you all right, dear?” she whispered as she filled my teacup.

“I…don’t know,” I replied.

After what felt like an eternity, Algernon strode into the room,flopping down in a dining chair. “Now I’m hungry,” he announced as he filled his plate with sandwiches.

“What on earth were you up to?” Priscilla asked.

“I was admiring the manor,” he replied as he waved for Mrs.Mead to fill his cup. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had a look around your office,” he told Papa.

“Mind? Of course I don’t mind,” my father replied. “One day that desk will be yours, son. But not yet. I’ve still got some juice in me.”

Just then Uncle Willy and John appeared at the threshold looking somber and uncomfortable, dressed head to toe in camouflage.

“We should leave soon,” Uncle Willy urged. “The weather’s only going to get worse.”

“Well, look who it is. I remember you,” said Algernon as he rose from his seat and sidled over to John. “What do you have there?” he asked, pointing to the well-worn rifle in his hand.

“A .22,” John answered.

“I didn’t know you hunted,” I said, confused by the incongruous sight of John with a weapon.

“Only when necessary,” Uncle Willy replied. “We’ve both had occasion over the years to rid Mrs.Mead’s gardens of groundhogs.”

“That rifle’s far too weak for what we’re bagging today,” Algernon said. “I brought two rifles. You can use one of mine—silver-tipped bullets for a cleaner kill.”

“Big game hunting isn’t my thing,” John said.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve watched a stag die,” said Magnus. “It’s invigorating.”

“We’d better go,” Uncle Willy urged.

The men stood and made their way out of the banquet room. “John, Willy, keep your wits about you,” said Mrs.Mead from the doorway.

The men gathered their gear and were soon heading out of the conservatory, marching past the manicured lawn toward the gardengate. My mother, Priscilla, and I watched until they disappeared into the dark, dank forest.

“Let’s hope the deer gets lucky,” said Mama as she turned from the windows.

“My thought exactly,” said Priscilla.

“Shall we retire to the parlor for a ladies’ chat?” Mama proposed.

In the parlor my mother and Priscilla gossiped and name-dropped while I feigned interest and occasionally forced a laugh. The talk turned to the wedding, which was nearly a year off, but to hear them discuss it, you’d have thought it was a week away.

Papa’s antique grandfather clock ticked in the corner, time crawling at a snail’s pace. And then, in the doorway, pale as a bedsheet, Penelope appeared.

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