***
It was after noon before the staff gathered in the kitchen, their eyes red and bloodshot from the long night’s servitude. Little was shared of the party and guests. Everyone was too exhausted to discuss the evening’s event.
Edwin sat silently, his mind tumbling in confusion. He had been a valet for almost forty years now, trained by his father’s cousin in the art of caring for the rich. When his last employer, Lord Abercrombie died last year, he had been concerned he might not find work again at his age. It had been a wonderful quirk of luck he had found this position. Yet in all the years he had been a valet, never had so little been asked of him. He wasn’t quite certain what to make of it.
Despite the warnings from the groomsman, after lunch Edwin took a walk down the grassy slope towards the trees. Stephan had been correct, the forest interior looked dark and foreboding. A narrow path swept from the grassy exterior into the darkness. The temptation to follow the path was strong, tempered only by the warning he had received earlier from Stephan. Perhaps later, he thought.
That evening, after dressing Lord Darkshire in his hunting gear, Edwin was told to return after the hunt.
“Don’t expect him to be back from the hunt until about 4:00 a.m.” Arthur told him. “He’s taken the children out and night is their favorite hunting time.”
“The children?” Edwin questioned.
“His Russian Wolfhounds,” Arthur explained. “He loves those dogs. Calls them his children. Stephan said you had a chance to meet them yesterday.”
“Ah, yes, those dogs,” Edwin replied, a sudden chill going up his spine.
“So you have plenty of time to go to your room if you wish,” Arthur continued. “I’ll wake you when I hear them returning.” He turned suddenly and disappeared into the shadows.
Edwin stood quietly for a moment, then slipped out of the west wing door. A full moon lit the grounds. In the far distance, he could hear the baying of the Russian Wolfhounds and the stampede of hoofs in pursuit. He shuddered at the sound of the dogs. Stephan’s warning still rang in his ears, “You let them take the lead. They’ll let you know when they like ‘ya enough.” He was certain more time would be required.
He walked briskly down the opposite path towards the woods. His curiosity had been piqued by his earlier investigation. He wondered where the path might lead. He left the moonlit grassy knoll and entered the darkness of the forest, tentatively stepping along the path, peering anxiously to both sides. Dark shadows wove in and out of the moonlight images of the trees. Strange noises called out from the undergrowth. That chill ran up his spine again. He could his heart beat strong within his chest.
Edwin turned to retreat to the Manor, but the path was gone! He swung around, frantically looking amidst the shadows for any indication of the direction from which he had come. Fear gripped his heart. He hadn’t gone that deeply into the forest. How could he be lost?
His heart beat rapidly and beads of perspiration formed at his brow. Every fiber of his being went on high alert, sensitive to the sights and sounds around him. He could hear the howl of the wolfhounds drawing closer. Panic engulfed him. The ground shook with the pounding of the horse’s thundering hooves. Edwin began to run blindly through the trees, the undergrowth grabbing at his body. The sound of the wolfhounds grew closer and the barking intensified. Dark shadows grabbed at his hands and pulled at his feet. Blind with fear, Edwin dropped to the ground, clawing and tugging to free himself from the entangling undergrowth. He could feel the breath of the Russian Wolfhounds on his back. Visions of the two quail on the kitchen counter flashed through his mind as he heard his neck snap.
***
“Did you place an ad in the paper for a valet,” the butler asked the head housekeeper at breakfast the next morning. She nodded.
“You were certain to say, ‘must love animals’?” Again, the housekeeper nodded.
“Very well, then. That’s done,” he sighed. “It’s such a shame the children didn’t take to Edwin.”
# # #
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
In February, 2011 Linda’s flash fiction, The Captive, was selected for San Diego Writer’s Ink Anthology, Vol 4 as one of San Diego’s finest writers and she was honored to read her piece at their February 14th Press Release Party. She has had numerous short stories and poems published in IdeaGems, Adventures for the Average Woman and Tough Lit Magazine in both magazine and ezine form in the United States and England. Her stories have appeared in GreenPrints, Grand Magazine and The San Diego Reader and other publications.
Now an empty nester, Linda resides in San Diego with Jake, a 135-pound Akita/St. Bernard. She keeps close ties with her two children, David and Erin and incorporates her colorful experiences into her hobbies of travel, writing, painting and photography.
The Valet of Darkshire Manor Page 3
