Page 62 of Winterset
“It is quite lovely.” Mr. Jennings stood and slowly walked the length of the dining table toward the tapestry.
I pressed my back against the alcove wall.
His footsteps clicked across the dining hall and stopped directly in front of where I stood. Only the thin fabric of the tapestry separated us.
“The silver threads in this tapestry do not shine in the candlelight as they ought,” Mr. Jennings said, and his gloved fingers curled around theedge of the tapestry, coming within a few inches from my face. I held my breath as he rubbed the material between his fingers.
I was certain he was about to discover me, but then he dropped the fabric, letting it fall back into place. “It is quite dirty.” He inspected the dust now covering his hand. “It should be removed immediately and cleaned.”
“Immediately, sir?” Bexley asked.
“First thing tomorrow morning,” Mr. Jennings clarified. “I want it made to shine when I host my dinner party and reading in a fortnight.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
“Very good,” Mr. Jennings said, retreating a step backward.
It was then, as he quit the dining hall and walked toward the drawing room, that I noticed something dangling from his watch fob ribbon.
Was that ... ? I squinted to see better.
No. It couldn’t be. But somehow, it was: his seal.
Had Mrs. Owensby found it in my bedside table and given it to him? When?Why?
These questions plagued me for hours as I stood in the small alcove, waiting for Mr. Jennings to retire to bed. My feet grew sore, and my legs stiffened from standing so long. I felt faint, but finally, I heard him climb the stairs, and his door close.
I pushed back the tapestry, and although I wanted to go to the kitchen to partake of the delicious food Mrs. Owensby had prepared, without knowing where Charlie was, I couldn’t risk it.
As I padded from the dining hall, I noticed somebody had pushed the buffet in front of the jib door. Then, as I tiptoed through the entrance hall, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks: my portrait, the one I’d hidden in the entrance hall priest hide, was hanging on the wall.
My mind raced to make meaning of all the oddities that had occurred today: Mr. Jennings appearing in the hedgerow maze, my attic room door being ajar, the passageways blocked, his seal, my portrait returned to its place.
He knew.
I did not know how he knew, but he did. He knew about the priest hides, about the secret passageways, aboutme.
And Mrs. Owensby knew that he knew. That was why she was acting so strange, why she was serving him salmon and smiling down at him.
My heart raced with the realization and the knowledge that if he knew I was hiding here, then I wasn’t safe here. My servants seemed to be but not me. So instead of running upstairs to hide, I fled out the front door.
Oliver
I slept better than Ihad in weeks. There had been no noises in the walls, no pianoforte playing, nothing. All was silent and still.
It was over.
There would be no more restless nights, no more tasteless meals, no more hats filled with soil.Iwas the master of this house now.
When I’d gone to bed last night, I’d thought about all the pranks I’d play on her, but now that it was morning, none of that seemed so appealing. I’d had my bit of fun with her by blocking the passageway entrances and viewing the tapestry behind which I was sure she stood last night. All I wanted now was to meet Miss Lockwood. A thrill ran through me at the prospect of us standing face-to-facewithouta tapestry between us.
I slipped out of bed and rang for Charlie. Knowing Miss Lockwood would likely be watching me from the shadows again today, I wanted to look my best. A fresh shave. My finest clothes. Iwouldhave worn my best hat, but she’d made that quite impossible.
A smile tugged at my mouth.
I’d never met a lady with such ... tenacity. I could hardly wait.
But an hour later, when I went downstairs, there was no trace of her; the house was quiet, the furniture was in its proper place, and the curtains were neatly drawn.
