the table top. She looked across the kitchen and noticed Agatha standing at the fireplace.
'Come on now, Agatha,' she said, clapping her hands together, 'you can't be standing there all night. You still have some jobs to do.'
'Yes, Mistress Wadham,' Agatha replied. She looked up from her daydreaming and smiled at Mary. 'I was just enjoying the fire.'
Mary smiled back. 'Hurry, then,' she said, 'if Master Draper sees you dawdling there he'll have your guts for garters.'
Mary walked across to the large, solid wood table and began stacking the pots that the girls at the sink has placed there after being washed and dried. 'I should reckon Her Highness has finished her supper by now. Why don't you go see if the dishes are ready.'
'Yes Mistress.'
Agatha stepped away from the hearth and made her way towards the steps at the back of the kitchen that would take her up the servants staircase, right to the corridor where the personal chambers of the Emperor and Empress were situated.
'Go on then, Agatha,' Mary called, shooing her away with several wafts of her hands, 'the sooner you get it done, the sooner you can be off home. It's getting late and I don't suppose your old mum'll be too pleased if I kept you here all night.'
Agatha quickened her pace as she trotted across the kitchen to the door.
The handle turned with little effort, and she pushed it open revealing the staircase running upwards. There was none of the grandeur here that could be found in other parts of the Palace. The servants had to make do with the bare stone walls and carpet-less floors, but it was clean, dry, and functional. Draper saw to that.
Agatha skipped up the stairs. After all this time, the chance to meet their Highnesses still excited her, and although it was highly unlikely that she would see them at this time of night, she still felt her heart race. The flames of the torches fluttered as she ran past them causing the shadows to dance wildly, but she ignored them and climbed on. Before long, she had reached the door which led out onto the the corridor housing the personal chambers of the Imperial couple.
She pushed open the door and peeped around it. Aside from the usual guards posted at each end of the corridor, it was empty. Sure enough, along the hallway a little, outside of the Empress's chamber and laying on the floor, was the silver tray that Draper had used to deliver the food earlier that evening. She tip-toed along the corridor, not wishing to disturb anyone. After all, it was nearly midnight, she told herself.
The majority of the bread, butter and strawberry jam was still untouched on the plate. Her Highness had only picked at her supper, as usual. Agatha glanced up and down the corridor and when she was sure that no one was looking, guards aside, she stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth. If Master Draper knew that she had taken some of the food she would have be in so much trouble. She gulped it down. When that piece was finished, she bolted down the other and then stooped to pick up the tray.
Agatha made her way back along the corridor, through the door and down the stairwell towards the kitchen, retracing her steps. She took extra care as she went; she had already been charged for broken crockery this month and did not want to break any more, or else she would not be taking home any of her wages.
She reached the kitchen and marched over to the sinks where to the two scullery maids were still working away and dumped down the tray. They looked over at her and frowned as they saw the additional work that she had brought back with her.
'Ah, well,' Mary said, peering over Agatha's shoulder as she passed, 'at least Her Highness ate most of her supper.'
Agatha blushed, hoping that none of the others had seen the look of embarrasment in her face.
'Aw,' said one of the girls at the sink, 'we thought we had done the last.'
'Sorry,' Agatha said. 'It's the Empress's supper things. It can't be helped.'
Mary looked across the kitchen at Agatha, and smiled. 'Are you all done now?'
'Yes, mistress,' Agatha replied, already making her way towards the door which led out of the kitchen.
'Good night, then,' Mary called after her. The two scullery maid sneered as they looked over
'Good night!' Agatha shouted in return, as she passed through the door. 'See you tomorrow!' she added, but the door had already closed behind her.
On the other side of the door ran the corridor which doubled as a changing room for the kitchen staff. It was cluttered with bags, hangers and boxes and candles burned away on the stone shelves half way up the wall, providing just enough light to see by. By the time she reached her allotted cubicle, Agatha had already untied her apron and she slipped it onto her metal hook. As she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, the door at the far end opened and Draper walked through. He looked Agatha up and down.
'Miss Lovell,' Draper said, 'you will need to take the back route though the gardens tonight, I'm afraid.' He brushed the worse of the rain off his shoulders.
'Yes, Master Draper.'
'Some of their Lordships are still up and about the Palace,' Draper continued, 'and several of them are still talking in the Reception Hall.'
'Of course, Master Draper.' Agatha walked quite properly to the door, trying to make sure that she didn't give the valet any reason to delay her further. 'Good night, Master Draper,' she said.
'Good night, Miss Lovell.'
Agatha closed the door behind her and looked up at the sky. Large drops of cold rain hit her face and she pulled her cloak tightly around her to keep out the worst. 'I hate this filthy weather,' she said, to herself.
Across the small courtyard a guard stood on duty, his oil-skin hanging down past his waist. Agatha didn't recognise his face but he raised his hand in her direction anyway, and she nodded back. That was a pity, she thought, it was not one of the usual men. It might have been fun to flirt a little before heading home, but she was already getting wet, and every minute she hung around meant longer for her clothes to dry in front of the fire. Her mother wouldn't approve as it was. Coal was not so cheap these days to waste burning it just to dry clothes for work tomorrow.
It was not actually that far to her home but there was no direct path through the rear Palace Gardens so she set off along the path that would run all around the outside and out of the rear gates. She didn't like this route. It was darker, and lonelier than any other way out of the Palace and she would much have preferred it if she could have come out of the front entrance. The last time that her mother had found out that she had needed to come home this way she had threatened to come to the Palace to complain to Master Draper himself. It had only been because Agatha had pointed out that she might likely lose her job, that her mother relented and let is rest. It would be best not to mention it this time, either, she thought.
Agatha followed the path around the garden and through the bushes and trees that towered above her head. The rain made the going awkward and the flagstones that formed the path had already become slippery. The height of the shrubs that grew on either side reminded her of one of those mazes that she had heard so much about. Maybe one day, she thought, she might be able to visit one of those; they sounded like such fun.
The rain continued to fall but Agatha pressed on. Up ahead in the dark, she could just make out the turning which lead along the back wall, past the flower beds and then on to the exit gate. That way was always unlocked but there was very little danger that people would enter the Palace Gardens through this entrance since there were regular patrols on the other side, and in any event, Agatha remembered, the deed was punishable by public flogging. That was more than enough to deter any but the most insistent intruders. She looked forward to flirting with the guards that were usually stationed there; these were her favourites, and she had made it a point to try to raise the interest of one of them in particular. So far she had not had much luck, but she promised herself that she would keep on trying. Maybe one day he might hit on her.
As she approached the turn, Agatha thought she heard something. She stopped, straining to listen above the patter of rain on the ground an
d on the leaves around her. She had definitely not been mistaken, there were raised voices, coming from behind her. The words weren't clear, but sure enough, they were there. Who was that at this time of night? she wondered.
Although Draper had said that some of their Lordships were still up and about, he hadn't mentioned that they would be in the gardens and no one in there right mind would be out in this weather, surely. Agatha crept back along the path to where the voices seemed louder than before, coming from behind the trees that marked the boundary where the garden met the back wall.
'We must make sure that Her Majesty believes the story,' said a man's voice. 'Unless she does, troops will never be mobilised. New Brunswick must be returned to the control of the Commonwealth.'
The man's voice was confident and sure, and Agatha tried to creep forward to get a look at the speaker, but it was no good, she couldn't see him the from where she was standing, the foliage was far too thick.
A second, and younger, voice joined in the conversation. 'But that will not be an easy matter,' it said. 'The Emperor will do his best to ensure that we do not get our way.'
'Don't worry about the Emperor,' the first man said, 'he won't be in the way for much longer. I'll take care of him, myself.'
This was so frustrating, Agatha thought. If only she could get a little closer, she might be able to see who they were. She pushed her way through the undergrowth and carefully pulled the branches to one side. Two figures stood on the grass, one had his back turned and she couldn't see his face. The second man was facing her, although with his hood raised in the darkness she could not identify him.
The man with his back to her was talking again but it was so unclear.
What was that he said? Something about the Commonwealth, and mobilising troops? And what else? Did he just say that the Emperor was a target, too? Agatha strained as she tried to hear more.
Something grabbed her foot, and she looked down. A root, growing out of and over the earth, had entangled her boot and it was stuck fast. She pulled as hard as she could to release it but it wouldn't come free, She tried again, but then, she found herself losing her balance. Agatha tumbled forward, sprawling through the undergrowth, face first onto the wet grass.
Both men looked around at the noise, and Agatha could see directly into the face of the Hooded Man.
'No!' she said, gasping as she saw his face. 'It cannot be!'
Agatha jumped up and ran, heading for home as fast as her feet would carry her.
oOo
No guards patrolled the street on the other side of the Garden wall, the only sound that met Agatha's ears was that of the rain falling on the stones of the path. That was just so typical of her luck, she thought.
With the rain still pouring down, the people of the city had shuttered themselves securely in their homes, and Agatha realised as she looked at the darkened windows and bolted doors that she was on her own. She looked behind her, but so far no one seemed to be following from the direction of the Garden. She calmed down a little. What she had heard was something that she didn’t quite understand but she knew that it didn't sound good. Enough of it went around the young girls at the Palace for her to know plotting when she heard it.
Agatha's feet slipped on the cobblestones; her muddy shoes were making it difficult to run, and she would have to be especially careful as the streets of the city were notoriously slippery.
Then, the sound of a man's running footsteps caught her ears, coming from back along the street. She looked over her shoulder but whoever it was was not yet in sight. If she was being chased then she must be in serious trouble, she realised.
She ran on, but all she could hear was the sound of her feet
Angels Page 17
