than Anne had assumed, with her irrational
suspicions, inappropriate behavior and disregard. In Mayfair, this
behavior had been kept under control by the house keeper, but here,
Lisle was apparently more unrestrained.
Chapter 9:
It was easier to walk out the back
door than the heavy front door if Anne wanted to go outside. The
hinges still hadn't been attended to, but that was simply a matter
of time. Perhaps she would do that later, go around the house and
place droplets of saddle oil on all the hinges. It did feel like
they were restoring order to the house and it was a good feeling.
And good feelings had been rare lately. She treasured them now and
hoped there were more to come.
But right now, she had to find a way of
dealing with the rats, and she'd consult with Alfie on how to
tackle this problem, hoping his animal management instincts
extended to unwanted guests from the animal kingdom. She crossed
the yard to the stable, seeing that the cow had already been taken
out for the day. The stable was empty. Alfie had cleared the rest
of the mess and even the stable was starting to look
respectable.
Stopping, she listened for him and
soon heard what sounded like whispering coming from the
saddlery—hurried whispering. She tensed. Were Alfie and Lisle being
inappropriate again? Wringing her hands, she didn't know what to
do, but the door to the saddlery opened and Alfie stepped out and
spotted her. He didn't look particularly disheveled. "Miss Sands,"
he said.
Anne cleared her throat. He made her
uncomfortable. "I believe I heard rats in the walls or ceiling last
night and thought I'd consult you on it."
He stared at her unblinkingly. He
wasn't ugly. Even with his youth, he was broader than her husband
was. But he didn't look as well comported. In fact, he looked ill,
a bit pale and gray. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. "I can
lay some traps."
"That would be good," she said, feeling
relieved. "Are you alright, Mr. Hayman?"
"Fine," he said.
"If you are unwell—"
"I am not unwell," he said and walked past
her. "I'll find some traps." He disappeared into one of the storage
buildings and didn't return.
Anne wrapped her shawl tighter around
her shoulders and returned to the kitchen door, stopping short when
she found Lisle there, baking pastry for supper. Anne hadn't seen
her cross the yard. Maybe she had and Anne simply hadn't noticed,
but she was fingers-deep in sticky pastry dough.
Lisle turned to look at her. "You look like
you've seen a ghost."
Anne turned and looked out the small window
panes of the back door. "Sorry, I thought you were outside."
"No. I'm busy enough here." That jealous
accusation had snuck into her tone again.
"I'm sure I heard you speaking to Alfie just
now."
"No, I've been here." Now Lisle was looking
at her like she was mad. "Is there something you wanted me to say
to Alfie?"
"I've just asked him to lay some traps for
the rats, or mice, or whatever it is."
Lisle stared at her for a moment longer,
then returned her attention to the pastry.
Whether the traps worked or not, Anne
didn't know. Alfie didn't come present the winnings. But the
scuttling noise could still be heard at night. It didn't bother
Anne as much as it had the first time. She frowned in the dark and
wished Alfie more success in his trapping endeavors. As she was
falling asleep again, there was another sound, one that wheedled
into her mind with sharp precision, just a small click such as
joints made when rising. A person or an animal, but in her mind,
not a noise that rats made. It had to be the rats.
Listening intently, Anne focused all
her attention on the room. She couldn't quite identify a single
specific noise, like a creak, but it sounded like the weight of a
step coming down on the wooden floor, then another. Someone was in
the room with her.
Urgently, Anne fumbled for the
matchbox, her fingers bumbling as she searched for a match, finally
lighting one, her eyes frantically searching, but
suspicions, inappropriate behavior and disregard. In Mayfair, this
behavior had been kept under control by the house keeper, but here,
Lisle was apparently more unrestrained.
Chapter 9:
It was easier to walk out the back
door than the heavy front door if Anne wanted to go outside. The
hinges still hadn't been attended to, but that was simply a matter
of time. Perhaps she would do that later, go around the house and
place droplets of saddle oil on all the hinges. It did feel like
they were restoring order to the house and it was a good feeling.
And good feelings had been rare lately. She treasured them now and
hoped there were more to come.
But right now, she had to find a way of
dealing with the rats, and she'd consult with Alfie on how to
tackle this problem, hoping his animal management instincts
extended to unwanted guests from the animal kingdom. She crossed
the yard to the stable, seeing that the cow had already been taken
out for the day. The stable was empty. Alfie had cleared the rest
of the mess and even the stable was starting to look
respectable.
Stopping, she listened for him and
soon heard what sounded like whispering coming from the
saddlery—hurried whispering. She tensed. Were Alfie and Lisle being
inappropriate again? Wringing her hands, she didn't know what to
do, but the door to the saddlery opened and Alfie stepped out and
spotted her. He didn't look particularly disheveled. "Miss Sands,"
he said.
Anne cleared her throat. He made her
uncomfortable. "I believe I heard rats in the walls or ceiling last
night and thought I'd consult you on it."
He stared at her unblinkingly. He
wasn't ugly. Even with his youth, he was broader than her husband
was. But he didn't look as well comported. In fact, he looked ill,
a bit pale and gray. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. "I can
lay some traps."
"That would be good," she said, feeling
relieved. "Are you alright, Mr. Hayman?"
"Fine," he said.
"If you are unwell—"
"I am not unwell," he said and walked past
her. "I'll find some traps." He disappeared into one of the storage
buildings and didn't return.
Anne wrapped her shawl tighter around
her shoulders and returned to the kitchen door, stopping short when
she found Lisle there, baking pastry for supper. Anne hadn't seen
her cross the yard. Maybe she had and Anne simply hadn't noticed,
but she was fingers-deep in sticky pastry dough.
Lisle turned to look at her. "You look like
you've seen a ghost."
Anne turned and looked out the small window
panes of the back door. "Sorry, I thought you were outside."
"No. I'm busy enough here." That jealous
accusation had snuck into her tone again.
"I'm sure I heard you speaking to Alfie just
now."
"No, I've been here." Now Lisle was looking
at her like she was mad. "Is there something you wanted me to say
to Alfie?"
"I've just asked him to lay some traps for
the rats, or mice, or whatever it is."
Lisle stared at her for a moment longer,
then returned her attention to the pastry.
Whether the traps worked or not, Anne
didn't know. Alfie didn't come present the winnings. But the
scuttling noise could still be heard at night. It didn't bother
Anne as much as it had the first time. She frowned in the dark and
wished Alfie more success in his trapping endeavors. As she was
falling asleep again, there was another sound, one that wheedled
into her mind with sharp precision, just a small click such as
joints made when rising. A person or an animal, but in her mind,
not a noise that rats made. It had to be the rats.
Listening intently, Anne focused all
her attention on the room. She couldn't quite identify a single
specific noise, like a creak, but it sounded like the weight of a
step coming down on the wooden floor, then another. Someone was in
the room with her.
Urgently, Anne fumbled for the
matchbox, her fingers bumbling as she searched for a match, finally
lighting one, her eyes frantically searching, but
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