Read A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1) Page 11
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The note left in her stall with instructions to see the Secretary that morning did not arouse any suspicion or anxiety in her. As a member of the Manor’s private staff, she regularly met with the secretary. These meetings ranged from routine interviews to special requests. Her discretion and efficiency made her a regular recipient of these requirements. Jane accepted these requests and completed them with zeal, as they were a nice break from her otherwise monotonous duties.
Like the rest of the servants at the Manor, Jane was from the island. Her parents had scratched a living fishing in the nearby town of Rooks Bay, barely providing for Jane and her siblings. But unlike the rest of her family, Jane had not been satisfied with the simple but content lives they lived by the dark waters of the large lake. From the moment she first saw a Lord from the Hunt confidently strolling through town and heard about the Manor, she knew she wanted to be a part of it. Always a sly one, Jane wrangled herself a position as a chamber maid at the Manor when she turned thirteen. She simply showed up and started working. By the time anyone noticed, the head housekeeper decided to keep her on.
It was from that time on that Jane truly grew up, amid the intrigue and secrecy of the Manor. She was a skilled and diligent worker, but the real reason Jane quickly rose through the ranks of maids was her ambition and cunning. At fifteen she’d placed an expensive diamond ring in the room of a Hunt member at the behest of another. She never knew the reason or what resulted from the action, but she’d received an expensive present for her troubles. It slowly became unspoken knowledge that Jane was both capable and willing to assist Hunt members in their constant feuding with each other. She’d spy on members for the Hunt Secretary, spy on the Secretary for the members, and pass notes between all of them.
The fact she did not run afoul of anyone at the Manor in completing these secret tasks came down to three things; she worked hard as a maid, she never informed on her fellow servants, and she served all the Hunt members equally. Her loyalty was to her colleagues, the Manor, and to herself, but never to one single person in particular. Thus her usefulness outweighed anything negative she did in the eyes of the Lords and Ladies of the Manor. So she continued working and continued receiving special requests.
Sitting down to breakfast in the staffs’ dining room, Jane noticed the other workers were alive with conversation. Normally breakfast was the quietest meal of the day. The efficient running of the Manor required that work commenced early. This in turn meant that the staff were awake, although not entirely alert, at early hours of the morning. Therefore the usual breakfast conversation was merely a collection of grunts, wheezes, and single worded questions and their direct responses.
Today, being Sunday, meant that everyone was able to begin the day a little later. Saturday nights at the Manor were often liquor-filled late nights for the members. Since this required more sleep than normal to recover from, many did not awaken till late morning. This enabled the staff to also indulge in some much needed sleep Sunday mornings. However the extra sleep was not enough of a reason to explain the cacophony of conversation swirling around the tables.
“He looked a proper worker in those clothes. Not very appropriate,” declared one of the waiters disapprovingly.
“Yes indeed, leather jacket and boots. A proper hooligan,” agreed one of the older housekeepers.
“Well I think he looked a proper rogue,” countered a younger maid with a hint of admiration.
“A proper rogue is it? I should say so, but not in your way of meaning. Apparently he broke Mr. Drummond’s nose with his fist!”
At the mention of the Manor’s Secretary, Jane became more attentive to what was being said.
“I heard he also beat Morgan and Dufresne the night before!”
“What?” “Really?” “Barbaric!” exclaimed many of the staff eating their breakfast at various tables within the room.
“I heard from Geoffrey the doorman,” continued one of the stable boys. “When they went to his house he went into a rage, pulled out a club and beat each one. They both had bumps and bruises on their heads when they came back last night.”
Two of the groundskeepers nodded in appreciation of the supposed work done by the mysterious subject. Seeing this, the matron clucked their way reproachfully. Seizing a moment of quiet in the conversation, Jane waded in.
“Who is this horrible person?”
“Apparently he’s a prospective member,” answered a valet from behind her. Everyone turned to listen to the newly entered member of the staff. “He seems a bit young to be a member, but you never can tell. However I wouldn’t believe these stories of brutality. From what I saw of him, he’s not terribly large nor imposing.”
“And clearly not a gentleman,” chimed in the waiter.
“Clearly. From what little I heard from his speech, I’d say he’s an American.”
“Like the Colonel?” inquired a stableboy.
“I should say not. More northern than the Colonel I think, which should prove amusing.”
“Do you know his name?” pushed Jane, hoping to sound indifferent.
“It’s odd. Mr. Drummond was furious upon returning to the Manor. He exclaimed that the man couldn’t be Commandant Pierce. So either he’s not the commandant, or something has gone wrong.”
At the mention of the name, Jane’s heart sank. That was the name on the letter she had moved during her night time mission. Had she been discovered? The letter containing her instructions had been written in Mr. Drummond’s handwriting. Now she knew her impending interview with the Hunt Secretary was not routine and worthy of the rising anxiety she started to feel. Passing secrets between Hunt Members was one thing, but interfering with the recruiting process without the Secretary’s knowledge was something completely different. If she was discovered, she’d be lucky to leave the Manor in one piece.