Page 81 of Tangwystle
The man from the night before bowed his head in polite greeting, but his gaze kept swiveling between Rufus and Baz. His courtesy came from his relief that one argument had been avoided.
Twelve wealthy men made up the Council. They came from well-known families, and as such, their known surnames helped them get elected.
Baz could have easily run for a council seat, but he had no wish for it.
Rufus had run several times and lost narrowly this past election.
I pulled my cloak tighter, ignoring Baz’s narrowed eyes on me. He nodded for me to come closer, and I walked carefully. He motioned for me and Gretel to sit. The room had a table on a dais facing rows of seating so everyone could watch the all-mighty group conduct business.
Baz and many of the other men who were there continued to stand and mingle until it was time.
“Are you okay?” Gretel clasped my hand.
I nodded, but her eyes wouldn’t leave me.
“Wystle?” she whispered.
I nodded again. I was okay. But also tired and overwhelmed and worried about the next few moments. Simply put, I couldn’t speak, and I think that concerned Gretel since I normally loved telling her what to do.
“It’s going to be okay,” she promised. Something in her voice made me look over. She nodded, but bit down on her lip like she wanted to stop herself from showing any further emotion.
A man with a hideous wig cleared his throat, signifying that not only was he in charge, but that the meeting would begin.
Baz looked over just once, nodding as if to say it would be all right. And then the man from the night before, Mr. Rodman, spoke before the twelve gentlemen who sat on the dais. There were boring introductions. Thanks for their willingness to meet early. A few mentions of how amazing the ball at Blackwell Manor was, and then regret that it should have fallen to such disaster.
Upon mentioning that last part, more than a few heads swung toward Rufus. You couldn’t find a grumpier man in the room. Baz remained calm and impassive. He’d been the one forced down here, yet Rufus took the part of a disgruntled man.
“Rufus Clinemell,” Mr. Rodman said, “has accused Baz Coldwell of knowingly harboring a servant who skipped out on her contract. Furthermore he asserts that Coldwell hired her himself despite knowing she’d left her contract in dispute. And he also claims to have caught them in a. . .”
The man with the horrible wig coughed. “Yes, I believe the whole town has heard by this point about the situation Clinemell found them in.”
I blushed on behalf of Baz and Gretel. The men, of course, merely chuckled.
“You will find,” Mr. Rodman spoke, “that there has been a great misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding,” Rufus growled, interrupting.
The head councilman merely lifted a hand to silence him, not bothering to waste breath.
But another man on the Council was clearly of Rufus’s thinking. Hands clasped, he leaned forward, his beady eyes narrowed. “That would be quite a misunderstanding. Everyone in the neighborhood was aware that the Clinemell servant had run off. For him to employ her, and. . .”
He stared straight at Gretel, openly appraising her. Gretel stiffened beside me, and Baz’s jaw clenched.
“Well there’s no harm in that,” another old man reasoned, blinking behind a thick pair of spectacles.
Unless he had forced himself on her!I wanted to scream at the man. But of course, Baz’s close relations with Gretel weren’t the real issue here. It would only be distasteful if he’d stolen Gretel, a mere servant girl, away from her rightful employer.
“That is not the matter at hand, I believe,” Mr. Rodman said, sliding on a pair of spectacles. He met the eyes of Rufus’s ally on the Council. “And there has been a great mistake.”
A disgruntled expression clouded the man’s face, but the other gentlemen appeared curious.
Mr. Rodman produced a piece of paper. “You will see that Gretel, was in fact, discharged from her contract.”
“Lies!” Rufus yelled, losing all decorum.
Mr. Rodman calmly stepped toward the dais, waiting until prompted, and then handed over the piece of paper to the head councilman.
I looked between Gretel and Baz. The latter stood with his chin held high as he watched the other men inspect the document. Gretel squeezed my hand.
