A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)
Dawn was peeking through the thick paned glass as Jane’s internal clock woke her up. Despite the tiring trip and late night arrival, a lifetime of waking up early took precedence over her need for sleep. Despite her wakefulness and uncertainty as to what was required of her, she decided to remain in bed. A sweeping glance of the room provided a view of solid wooden walls, a bland red tapestry and fur rugs. The room was slightly larger than her old one at the manor, but equally sparse in its furnishings.
Laying back down she stared at the ceiling and tried to piece together how she ended up here. She knew Dr. Cleaver had drugged her before she hit the ground. That he didn’t trust her was nothing new, as she was pretty sure he didn’t trust anyone. But why had he sent her to this mountain retreat, surely not for a vacation. But if he had wanted to rid himself of her, it would have been easier to swap the drugs for poison and have his men drop her body on the way here. Clearly he wanted her alive, but to what end and purpose?
The noises of a rising house echoed from down the hall, bringing her back to reality. She rose from the blankets, but before she could get out of bed the door inched open. The round rosy cheeked face of a middle aged woman poked through.
“Good you’re awake already,” she said neutrally. “I’m Mrs. Hobart, housekeeper and cook at the Crows Nest. As Lord Lodge didn’t bring his valet with him, you’ll have to fill in. He requested an early breakfast, so be ready to bring it up to him in ten minutes.”
Without another word or glance the door was closed and Jane was left to scramble into whatever was available in the closet. The selection appeared to be various sizes of the same uniform worn by the staff of the manor, albeit made of slightly warmer material. Within minutes she was dressed and made herself presentable with the help of a small mirror. Looking at her reflection, she was disappointed to be filling the role of a servant. The whole point to working with Lord Cleaver was to eventually move up to something new. Well it could be worse, she thought; those drugs could have been poison and I could be dead right now.
Pushing that dark thought aside, Jane found her way to the kitchen easily enough by following the sounds of banging cooking implements. Despite the sounds she heard from the hallway, she was surprised to find only Mrs. Hobart in the kitchen.
“There’s only Lord Lodge staying here at the present,” offered the cook, sensing Jane’s curiosity. “So there’s only myself, Mr. Hobart, and a couple groundskeepers.”
“I see,” replied Jane with the only response that felt right.
“Ordinarily meals are served in the main dining room upstairs,” continued the cook without turning from the stove. “However since Lord Lodge is the only guest, he will likely be eating in the study adjoined to his room.”
“Where is that exactly?” inquired Jane. “I don’t really remember the layout of the building from last night.”
“Through the hallway you just walked down to the end and up the stairs. Turn left at the top, then down the corridor to the entrance hall. Go up the main staircase and turn right at the top. It’s the second door.”
The cook had rifled of these directions in quick order, finishing as she turned to deliver the breakfast tray to Jane. She returned to her work without another word, focused on her next task.
Jane’s trepidation at getting lost or forgetting the directions was dismissed as she reached the main floor. Though imposing from outside, the building was simply laid out and easy to navigate. The stone of the basement level gave way to large intricately carved timber walls. She passed by the dining room and then a couple large rooms adorned with hunting trophies. There were no wrong turns to make, as this hallway exited to the main entrance hall. It was a large open room with a big circular fireplace in the middle, disgorging its smoke into a metal bell-like device above it. This was apparently the chimney, as the top traveled up to the ceiling high above. The second level was visible, with a balcony circling the space above. She picked out the second door from her position and hurried up the stairs as quickly as she dared, holding the tray steady.
Luckily there was a small side table beside the door that she could set the breakfast tray on as she knocked and opened the door. The room was empty, though a fire had been started in the small fireplace on the wall to the right. There was a door beside it, which she assumed connected to Lord Lodge’s bedroom.
She was barely able to set the tray on the desk before one of the logs in the fire suddenly fell over, dangerously close to falling out of the fireplace. She jumped nervously as it banged down and would undoubtedly have dropped the tray if it were still in her hands. Leaning down to move the log into a safe position in the fire, Jane noted that the fireplace serviced both rooms. In fact she could see into the other room, though only clear enough to see a pair of polished leather shoes walking towards the door. This gave her just enough time to set the poker down and stand up to receive Lord Lodge.
“Good morning Jane,” he said cheerily.
“Yes my Lord.”
“I think it is,” he replied to her neutral response. “The sun is up, we’ve got this wonderful hunting lodge to ourselves, but most importantly we’re still alive.” This last sentence was delivered with nonchalance, though Jane could tell it was not a general statement.
“Is there anything else sir?” She asked quickly.
“Please sit,” he gestured to an empty chair. “Have you eaten yet? No? Then please join me, I feel like eating with company. Try the fresh buns; Mrs Hobart is a terrific baker.”
They divided up the meal, and began eating in companionable silence. Jane realized that she hadn’t eaten in some time and was thankful for Lodge’s offer.
“This is your first time at the Crows Nest I believe?” asked Lodge over his tea cup before taking a sip. Jane nodded in assent, as her mouth was filled with a buttered roll.
“What’s your impression of it? I have been here so many times I forget what it must be like your first time.”
“Honestly it’s unsettling,” replied Jane after taking a moment to clear her mouth and give the question some thought. “It must be different when it’s full, but empty like this, I feel like the ghosts of previous visitors are all around. And then I think about the scene from last night. It’s so remote and formidable, like a prison.”
“How very astute of you my dear.”
“What are we doing here?” inquired Jane to no one in particular, while staring out the window. She looked back to find Lord Lodge staring at her intently, though without malice.
“That’s the very question I was going to ask you,” he replied. Before she could protest the question he held up a hand. “I will do you the courtesy of not spending unnecessary time trying to get information from you in an innocent way, and you can reciprocate with telling me the truth.”
Jane was not prepared for this and the sudden shock of the direct statement stunned her. Feeling helpless in this desolate location, far from any friends or allies, she succumbed to honesty.
“It seems we’re in this together,” she allowed. “But in the spirit of reciprocation, when I’ve finished you’ll tell me what I’ve gotten myself involved in.”
“That seems only fair,” Lodge responded, refilling her tea and passing it across the table to her. She accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip and closing her eyes.
“Where should I start? I suppose you’ll interject if you need elaboration?”
“Indeed,” Lodge assented. His gaze then turned from affable dining companion to something different entirely. His hawk like eyes became extremely focused, cataloguing the slightest change in his companion’s expressions. “I’m well aware of most of your activities at the Manor. However I’d be most grateful if you could begin with your task to deliver the letter addressed to Commandant Pierce.”