Savage Spring

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Savage Spring Page 20

by Constance O'Banyon


  “I am Mrs. Albita Chandler,” the woman said, motioning for Alexandria to be seated in the cane bottom chair across from her desk. Mrs. Chandler picked up the paper before her and scanned it before fixing Alexandria with a cold stare. “Your name is Alexandria Bradford. It says here that you are eighteen and have had no previous experience and have no references. I’m afraid our clients always insist on a reference and usually someone who is older and with more experience.”

  Alexandria saw her hopes being dashed and took her courage in hand to try and win the stern-faced Mrs. Chandler over. “I may be young, but I was brought up on a farm and am a hard worker. If you will take a chance on me, I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Mrs. Chandler looked at Alexandria over the rim of her glasses. “It says here that you have no family.”

  “That’s right, ma’am. My father and mother are both dead. I have no one.” Alexandria saw no pity in the woman’s glance and knew she must try another tactic. “My mother died when I was quite young, and I looked after my father and managed the farm and the house for several years. While I have no one to recommend me, I was never afraid of hard work, and I’m very strong. I have seldom known a sick day in my life.”

  “I see. You will have to understand this agency’s clients are of the most prominent families in Philadelphia. I would be very remiss in my duties should I send them a young girl with no recommendation.”

  “I’m willing to do any kind of housework, Mrs. Chandler. I can cook, scrub floors, make beds, and tend garden. If you will just give me a chance, I promise I will prove it to you,” Alexandria said earnestly.

  “Well…perhaps I do have something,” the older woman said, reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a sheet of paper. “Mind you, I’m reluctant to send you on this interview. The family in question has gone through three of our ladies in the last six weeks. I’m not one to gossip, but Mrs. Landon is very difficult to work for, and I am about at my wits end trying to find someone suitable for her. You see, her husband is an invalid, and he requires constant attention.”

  Alexandria dropped her eyes. Could Mrs. Chandler be referring to Claudia Landon? It would be disastrous if she were to be recognized by Claudia. But…if she were to be accepted into the Landon household, perhaps she would be in a position to help Falcon!

  “What would the position entail, ma’am?”

  “As I said, Mr. Landon is an invalid. He has a man who sees to all his personal needs. Should you get the position, you would be required to keep his room clean, serve his meals, and read to him. I see on the form you filled out that you are able to read.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. I can read very well,” Alexandria told her, thinking the woman was dense if she didn’t realize she would have to know how to read if she was able to fill out the forms. “My grandmother had been a governess before she married my grandfather. She taught me when I was very small,” Alexandria said with enthusiasm.

  Mrs. Chandler arched her eyebrow with approval. “In that case, perhaps you might do. For some reason, Mrs. Landon always insists that we send a woman to look after her husband. I must warn you that Mr. Landon isn’t an easy man to get along with. I understand he is very demanding, and you will work long, hard hours. Will this be satisfactory to you?”

  Alexandria leaned forward. “As I told you, I am willing to work very hard. Please give me this chance, and I give you my word I will do a good job.”

  “Well…all right, but mark my word, you will not have an easy time of it. The pay isn’t at all good, but you will have room and board.”

  As Mrs. Chandler scribbled an introduction for her to carry to Claudia Landon on a piece of paper, Alexandria stood up, thinking she might be in a position to help Falcon. She was determined that she would make herself indispensable to Mr. Landon, and, in so doing, perhaps she could keep her eyes and ears open for anything that might help Falcon!

  Farley ducked behind the stable and unsheathed his knife. He then watched quietly as the hedges next to the carriage house parted and a man poked his head out. Farley recognized him immediately as the sailor who had been following Tag for several weeks. Farley had spotted the man a short time before from his bedroom window and had quickly made his way down the back stairs and out to the stable hoping he could take the man by surprise.

  The sailor didn’t know he was being watched, and he slipped to the side of the hedges now and stared up at the house. With the quietness Farley had learned from the Blackfoot, he eased himself along the stable wall toward the carriage house. When Farley was near enough, he made a flying dive at the man and knocked him to the ground. For a long moment, the two men struggled, until at last Farley gained the upper position and pinned the man beneath him.

  “You better speak your piece now, stranger, ’cause dead men don’t talk too good,” Farley said, placing the point of his knife at the man’s throat. “I been watching you hanging ’round, and I don’t figure you’re up to no good.”

  “You are mistaken. I don’t mean you or the boy any harm. Let me up, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Farley studied the man’s face carefully. It didn’t take a practiced eye to tell the man was no more a sailor than Farley himself was. The man’s hat had come off in the struggle, and Farley noticed his hair was red, but for the white streaks that ran through it at the temples.

  “Now, I ain’t zackly anxious to let you go ’til you do some talking. What are you doing hanging ’bout here, and what boy are you talking ’bout?”

  The stranger looked into Farley’s eyes, seemingly unafraid of his threats. “I was referring to the one who calls himself Falcon Knight.”

  “Falcon Knight ain’t no boy. And what do you mean when you say he calls himself Falcon Knight? Do you doubt that that’s his true name?”

  “I don’t know. I wish to hell I did know if he is who he claims to be. It could be I am letting my imagination run away with me and hoping he is who I think he is.”

  Farley looked at the man suspiciously and jabbed the knife closer to his jugular vein. “Who do you hope he be?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. Would you allow me to get up? You have my word I won’t try to escape. I’m not finding this position too comfortable.”

  “Why should I? You ain’t what you’d have me believe. You surely ain’t been at sea. I ain’t got no edjucation, but I knowd a edjucated man when I heard one. Tell me who you are, and what you want, or I’ll run this knife clean up your gullet.”

  Still the man showed no fear. “Let’s just say if Falcon Knight is who I suspect he is, I am someone who is interested in his welfare, and let it go at that.”

  “No, let’s not let it go at that. Who in the hell do you think he is?”

  “I’ll answer your question with a question? Did Falcon Knight ever go by the name of Taggart James—does he have a sister named Joanna?”

  Farley’s eyes narrowed. “You ain’t in any condition to ask questions, but you sure as hell better answer mine. You ain’t got long to live.” To prove he meant what he said, Farley pricked the man’s skin with his knife. “What do you mean by coming ’round here making such charges? I ain’t never made the acquaintance of no Taggart James.”

  “I have been watching you and the boy for some time, and I have come to know you are a friend of his. If you don’t believe anything else I say, believe that I, too, am his friend.”

  “I don’t rightly see as how I believe you. Ifen you was his friend, you’d not sneak ’round like a thief in the night. If you are a friend of hissen, why do you skulk ’round? I ’spect you and me will just go on up to the house and ask him ifen he knows you.”

  “No, don’t do that. I doubt that he would remember me.”

  “Ifen you be thinking he was that Tag you was speaking ’bout, he won’t know you from Adam. ’Cause his name’s Falcon Knight.”

  Farley was surprised to see the man’s face ease into a smile. “I don’t recall calling him Tag…although I often called him that in the
past. I asked you if his name is Taggart James. I think you just told me what I wanted to know.”

  Farley grabbed a handful of red hair and pressed the man’s head backwards. “Can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t slice your throat right now?”

  The man grabbed Farley’s wrist, and with a strength that surprised the old trapper, wrestled the knife from his hand. Before Farley could recover, the man pushed him aside and stood up. Farley would have scrambled to his feet, but the man placed a foot on his chest and applied pressure.

  “Were I not the boy’s friend, I would end your life now, old man. Look after the boy…he has enemies.” So saying, the stranger threw the knife, and it landed with its point between Farley’s legs.

  Farley watched as the sailor disappeared, knowing no more about the man who had been sneaking about for weeks than he had before. The old man shook his head. If the stranger wasn’t Tag’s friend, one thing was certain; thanks to the slip of Farley’s tongue, the man—be he friend or foe—now knew Taggart James’s true identity.

  Alexandria sat in the morning room, facing Claudia Landon. She had prayed the woman wouldn’t recognize her dressed as a girl. So far, Claudia hadn’t seemed suspicious, although she did look at her in a peculiar way every so often. It took only a short time for Alexandria to realize that Claudia couldn’t read. She had taken Mrs. Chandler’s letter as a recommendation.

  “I hope you will prove more satisfactory than the last three women the agency sent. They were afraid of their own shadows and became nothing but an annoyance to my husband. I think you should know from the onset that my husband is not an easy man to get along with.”

  “I will do my best, Mrs. Landon. You will find that I am not easily intimidated.”

  “I would have thought you a bit young, but who knows—the others were well past their prime, and they didn’t last very long.”

  “I would ask that you give me a fair chance. Pray do not hold my youth against me. I will work very hard.”

  Claudia raised her chin and studied the girl more closely. Her short-clipped hair curled about her forehead, and her face was much too pretty. As a rule, Claudia didn’t like to employ servants who were attractive, but she was becoming desperate for someone who would please Howard. “I’ll give you a week’s trial period, but if by that time I am not pleased with you—you will leave. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, that seems more than fair to me,” Alexandria agreed hurriedly. She was relieved that Claudia considered her at all.

  Claudia’s gaze went back to the young girl. There was something about her that reminded her of Joanna, her hated enemy, but she didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was her refined, ladylike manners. It didn’t matter that the girl was dressed in a cheap, ugly gown; she still presented a superior attitude. Her manners were somehow haughty, and for a moment Claudia felt the same inadequacy she had always felt around Joanna. She reminded herself that she was the mistress of the house and this chit would be working for her. As Claudia looked into the girl’s strange, golden-colored eyes, she had a feeling she had seen her somewhere.

  “Is it possible that you and I have met before?” Claudia questioned.

  “I suppose it might be possible,” Alexandria said cautiously. “Have you ever been to Valley Forge, Mrs. Landon?”

  “Heaven forbid! What would I possibly find to do in Valley Forge?”

  “Will I be meeting Mr. Landon today, Mrs. Landon?” Alexandria asked, changing the subject quickly.

  “Yes, I’ll have Mrs. Dodson, the housekeeper, show you upstairs. What did you say your name was?” Claudia asked, looking at the paper as if she were reading.

  “I am called Alexandria Bradford,” Alexandria said, standing up as a maid entered the room. Claudia indicated that she should follow the maid, dismissing her with bored indifference.

  Once out in the hall, Alexandria breathed a sigh of relief. She would make sure Claudia and her husband were satisfied with her work. No matter how difficult Mr. Landon turned out to be, Alexandria was determined to make him like her. She had to keep this position.

  Tag unsaddled Navaron and threw the saddle over the stall door. He was bone weary from trying to find Alexandria. He had just ridden in from Valley Forge where he had gone to her Meadowlake to make inquiries about her whereabouts. No one at the farm had seen Alexandria in months. He could find no trace of her and knew he should give up trying to find her. It was as if she had been swallowed up, never to be heard from again.

  His black boots made a clipping sound as he walked up the stone walk toward the house.

  Tag was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the sailor who ducked behind the stables and watched until he disappeared into the house.

  The sailor pulled his cap down lower over his forehead and faded into the shadows. The man had an old debt to settle, and he wouldn’t rest until he had seen his goals accomplished!

  Chapter Twenty

  Alexandria had unpacked her meager belongings and placed them in the oak chest at the foot of the bed. Her room was on the third floor, and she was surprised to find it cheerful and bright.

  There was a tap on the door and Alexandria found Mrs. Dodson in the hallway, ready to take her to see Mr. Landon. She followed the housekeeper down the stairs to the second floor, where Mr. Landon’s room was located.

  Alexandria had the feeling she was in a frightening, alien world. She knew the first and most important thing to do would be to make friends with the servants. It had always been her experience that servants talked and gossiped among themselves, so perhaps she could learn something that would help Falcon.

  “Well, miss, I feel pity for you—you have a job on your hand that no one else would take. Mr. Landon has a powerful temper and can raise the roof if he’s a mind to,” the housekeeper, who was called Mrs. Dodson, informed Alexandria.

  “I had the impression he couldn’t talk, Mrs. Dodson.”

  “Oh, he can make himself understood, all right. He has very little trouble getting his point across, as you will soon find out. He can talk, if you call the gibberish that comes out of his mouth talking. I can tell you right now, if you want to keep the job, you must report everything of importance to Mrs. Landon.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because she rules the roost around here. All your predecessors kept her well informed. You must do it in such a way that Mr. Landon won’t be suspicious. If he finds out you are running to his wife with tales, he will send you packing. That’s what happened to all the others. He’s a mean one, I can tell you.”

  By now, they had reached the top of the landing, and Mrs. Dodson led Alexandria down the hallway to a massive, hand-carved door that she knew would lead to the master bedroom. She was feeling nervous at the thought of meeting the formidable Mr. Landon.

  Mrs. Dodson’s knock was answered by the tallest man Alexandria had ever seen. She was sure he must be at least seven feet tall, and he had broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well. Although the man didn’t appear to be more than thirty years of age, his hair was snow white. A long scar ran down his cheek and across his lip, giving him a menacing appearance.

  “This is Barlow. He looks after Mr. Landon, and you will be spending a great deal of time with him. Barlow, this is the new girl who has been hired to look after Mr. Landon. Her name is Alexandria.”

  The giant man looked Alexandria over with what she was sure was a frown of disapproval. His only sound was a grunt as he pushed past them and walked into the hall.

  “Don’t mind Barlow,” Mrs. Dodson said, lowering her voice. “He is loyal to Mr. Landon, and he’s resentful of anyone he thinks might be taking over.”

  “He is a bit frightening,” Alexandria said, as her eyes went past Mrs. Dodson. The room they were now in appeared to be a sitting room, and she saw the connecting door that led to what she knew would be Mr. Landon’s bedroom.

  “Just don’t cross Barlow, and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Come with me, and I’ll take you in to
Mr. Landon’s room.”

  Alexandria followed closely on Mrs. Dodson’s heels. When they entered the bedroom, her eyes went immediately to the man who lay on the giant four poster bed. He was propped up on pillows, and Alexandria noticed that his face was thin and sunken, and his pallor was ashen. She thought that at one time he might have been a big man, but now he was no more than a mere shell of a man. His eyes seemed to bore into hers, as if he were trying to stare her down, but Alexandria’s eyes never wavered.

  “Mr. Landon this is Alexandria Bradford. She will be replacing Miss Wilson.”

  Howard Landon’s eyes swept the young girl’s face. The moment he saw her she reminded him of Joanna. It wasn’t that they looked anything alike—it was more the proud carriage of the head and the way she walked. He wanted to hear her voice and hoped that it, too, would remind him of Joanna.

  It was as if this young girl had brought a breath of springtime into his drab existence. In the past, all the women that Claudia had assigned to his care had run to her with every little thing, and that was the reason he had insisted they be dismissed. He hoped this girl would be different.

  Alexandria moved forward, feeling pity for this man, who was almost as helpless as a baby. She knew she should hate him for what he had done to Falcon. But he was so pathetic she couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him. She fluffed up his pillow and pulled the covers across his chest.

  “I’m glad to be working for you, Mr. Landon. I will try to carry out all your wishes. I am told that you like to have someone read to you. I enjoy reading very much, and perhaps you would allow me to choose some books that I have enjoyed in the past.”

  Howard closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her voice. Since Joanna had come over from England, their accents were different, but the voice tones were the same—clear, soft, and soothing.

 

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