All Is Fair

by Dee Garretson

  “Yes,” I said, a little frightened by the intensity in his voice.

  He gestured at the telephone. “The call I just took gave me confirmation that some confidential matters your father discussed here at his last meeting are now known by the Germans. The information had to have come from someone in the house. They are interviewing all the drivers, and others who were here. If they can’t identify the source from among those people, someone from London will be up to interview the household staff. The person in the summerhouse may have a contact inside who is giving him information.”

  I took a step backward and groped for the chair I knew was close by. When my hand touched its arm, I sat down. The news confounded me. My father was always so careful with anything related to his work. To hear someone had managed to outwit him shook me. If someone could do that, we weren’t as safe as I’d thought.

  I realized Lucas had moved next to the chair and put his hand on the back of it so that the tips of his fingers were touching my hair. I wished I could just lean back and close my eyes to forget what I’d heard.

  “How much do you know about Lettie?” Andrew asked.

  “What?” I asked before realizing where his question was leading. “I can’t imagine Lettie having anything to do with a spy,” I said. The idea was absurd. “Lettie has lived in the neighborhood since she was born, and her whole life revolves around her job and her family. I don’t know how she’d even meet a German!”

  “You may know less about Lettie than you think,” Andrew said. “Most of the people who pass along information do it for the money. Lettie may have need of funds, or someone in her family might. And a German agent does not have to be German. There are many people in a spy chain, all with different motives.”

  “But how did Lettie end up at the bottom of the icehouse steps?” Lucas asked.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew said. “We’ll have to hope she can tell us more when she recovers.”

  It couldn’t be Lettie. I was sure of it. It seemed more logical to determine the person’s identity by figuring out who in the house could have met a German agent. Not Mrs. Brickles. That was as absurd an idea as Lettie being the culprit. A German agent wouldn’t just approach her at the butcher’s and manage to convince her to spy on my father. And Hannah wouldn’t stop talking. Spies were supposed to listen instead of talk.

  But a memory tugged at me. I remembered Lettie talking about my father’s meeting on our cart ride. She had mentioned that Margaret was there with a friend and they hadn’t been invited to the dinner. When Gwendolyn had arrived, she’d said she’d been at Hallington before.

  “What about Gwendolyn?” I asked, explaining what I knew. I wasn’t going to end this conversation until Andrew understood he couldn’t just assume it was Lettie. Since Lettie couldn’t defend herself, someone had to do it for her. I related Lettie’s conversation to Andrew.

  “And remember when Gwendolyn came into the dining room the first time?” I added. “Her coat had mud on it and her hat was crooked. What if she helped the man attack Lettie? We don’t know anything about her except what she’s told us.” I told myself the fact that she was pretty had nothing to do with my suspicions. “She says she lives in London. She could have met all sorts of people there who convinced her to work for them.”

  Andrew considered that. “I suppose it’s possible. I’ll have someone look into her background.”

  “What about the maid, Hannah?” Lucas asked. “From what I understand, she hasn’t been here long.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’ve spoken to Miss Tanner about her. She says the girl is flighty and talks too much. I don’t think it’s her. German agents would be very careful in what they say and do.” He stopped and frowned. “Are you sure you are all right, Mina? You keep clenching and unclenching your hands.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d been doing that. I also hadn’t realized how cold the library could be on a spring day. “I’m fine,” I said. Andrew didn’t need to worry about me in addition to everything else.

  He nodded. “Good. Now, about the man in the garden, I’ll tell the gardener to keep a look out for any strangers, but I don’t think the fellow will be back, now that he knows he’s been seen.”

  “We didn’t see enough of him to identify him,” I said.

  “He doesn’t know that.” Andrew put the wristlet in his pocket. “And someone like that is a coward, deep down. You fought back. He won’t try again.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. “What about Margaret?” I asked. “She’ll be hysterical if she hears about this. I think she sees the house as the last safe place left.”

  Andrew grimaced. “We don’t need Margaret upset. As long as you are sure you are all right, perhaps it’s best to keep this from her. I’ll ask Miss Tanner to be extremely vigilant about locking up, but as I said, I don’t think the man will be back. I need to make another telephone call.” He looked at both of us. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask both of you to leave the room. Lucas, we need to go back to Cranwell as soon as I’m done.”

  We left, though it felt strange to be asked to vacate a room in my own house. We walked out into the hall and both of us stopped at the same time. “Thank you,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “For … For everything.” I couldn’t say, Thank you for putting your arm around me and please do it again, though I very badly wanted to.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. He shifted his weight and looked at his feet. It was what someone would do if they were feeling awkward, but I couldn’t imagine Lucas ever feeling awkward.

  “I suppose I should get the car if we are going to Cranwell,” he said.

  “You are just learning how to fly, aren’t you?” I blurted out the question. I had to know.

  Lucas looked shocked. He didn’t answer.

  “I’m not stupid,” I said. “I saw you land in the pasture. I’ve seen a few other aeroplanes land before, much more smoothly than that. And I heard Andrew say you didn’t have much time. And I saw how interested you were in the map I drew. A map of a German village. You didn’t even need to be in the room when Andrew was talking about it if it had nothing to do with you. The two have to go together.”

  “I can’t say, Mina,” he said softly. “Please don’t ask me. The less you know, the safer you are.”

  “You can trust me, you know,” I said.

  “It isn’t up to me. Andrew is in charge here. I’m to do what I’m told.”

  He looked so miserable that I knew I shouldn’t push him. “All right. I’ll stop asking, though I might be better able to help if I knew more.”

  “There isn’t anything you can do to help. I wish there were.”

  There was no good response to that. I wasn’t going to resort to begging. “I’m going to go change,” I said.

  “Are you sure you are all right?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I tried to smile, but now that I had a moment to think, I could almost feel the disgusting rag over my mouth. “Yes,” I said again, and hurried up the stairs so he wouldn’t see me if I started to cry.

  When I came back down, I saw that Lucas was still in the hall, wandering around with his hands in his pockets while he examined the pictures on the wall. He was also whistling softly. I recognized the song. It was the same one he’d whistled when he left the train: So send me away with a smile, little girl, brush the tears from eyes of brown.

  No, there wouldn’t be tears from me.

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  I REACHED THE bottom step just as Margaret came out of the morning room. I wished she hadn’t appeared, not right at that moment. She glanced at me and then at Lucas, who seemed totally engrossed in a painting of a pastoral landscape full of cows.

  “Mina, we’ve been neglecting our guest,” Margaret said. Lucas whirled around. I could tell he hadn’t been aware of either of us. She motioned to me. “Why don’t you give Lucas a tour of the house while he’s waiting for Andrew?”

  “I don’t
want to be a bother,” Lucas said.

  I noticed Margaret was looking much better this morning, and she seemed happy too.

  “It’s no bother,” she said. “And Mina doesn’t have enough to do.”

  That wasn’t true. There was plenty to do in the garden, but at the moment, I had no interest in going back outside. I wanted to think about anything besides the man in the garden. And I wanted to be with Lucas without anyone else around, even if it was just for a few minutes. “I’d be happy to, if you are interested,” I said to him. “You can say no, though. I don’t mind. We don’t have any rooms where kings slept or anything like that, but there are some rather nice parts and some nice paintings.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good,” Margaret said brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  After she left, Lucas pointed at the picture he’d been examining. “What about this one?”

  “I’m already a tour-guide failure. I don’t know anything about that one. My mother likes the colors in it. I think that’s why she put it there.”

  “I was looking at the cattle, wondering what breed they are,” he said. “Nice colors too, though.”

  I laughed. “I’m not a cow expert. I’m not much of an expert at anything, not even giving house tours. My mother usually takes visitors around, though my father teases that the stories about the rooms change each time. This way.”

  We walked through several of the rooms. I had a feeling that Lucas wasn’t all that interested in who was in what portrait or how old some of the vases were, though I dutifully told him all I remembered. By the fifth room, I could see his interest flagging, so I decided it was time to reveal the best part of the house. Leading him into the Tapestry Room, I said, “The tapestries are some of the most important items in the house, from the early seventeenth century. The four of them depict different fables of Aesop, but that’s not the best part of the room. Can you see something different about it?”

  “You’re smiling like there is a secret here. Is this a challenge?” His face brightened.

  “Yes. Let’s see if you can figure out why this isn’t an ordinary room.”

  “I’m always up for a challenge.” Lucas walked around the room slowly, examining all the walls, the bookcases, and the fireplace. The tapestries covered two of the walls; the third held the door, flanked by bookcases, and the fourth, the fireplace and more bookcases. I had always loved the room, especially in wintertime, when the combination of the firelight and the fantastical creatures on the tapestries enhanced the feeling that the room was a step removed from the real world.

  Lucas examined each tapestry and then moved on to the other walls. After the first time around, he said, “Can I have a hint?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” He went back to the fireplace and examined the carvings on it. “In stories, there is always something you push on the fireplace to make a secret door swing open. What happens if I push this carved flower thing on the mantel?”

  “Nothing happens.” I was enjoying this. “Do you give up?”

  He made another circuit around and then shrugged. “Yes, I give up. I’m stumped.”

  I went over to one of the bookcases. “We do have a secret door. See how the frame around this bookcase doesn’t look quite like the rest? And there’s a little circle carved into the frame. If you push it…” I pushed, and with a faint creak the bookcase swung open to reveal a tiny winding staircase going up to the floor above.

  Lucas came over and peered at it. “That’s amazing. Why was it built? There must be a good story behind it. Who needed to be smuggled upstairs?”

  “It was nothing like that, I’m afraid. The story goes that an ancestor had hordes of children and a shrew of a wife. He had the staircase built to go up to a room he used as a bedroom, so he could come and go without everyone knowing.”

  “Who has the room at the top? If I lived here, I’d want it.”

  “My brother, Crispin. It’s one of the worst bedrooms, because it’s small and dark. He insisted he had to have it, though.” I remembered the first time Crispin and Andrew had used the stairs to try to frighten Margaret after luring her into the Tapestry Room with some story of a strange visitor and then popping out to scare her. Margaret’s screams could be heard all over the house. “We haven’t used the staircase in ages.”

  “Someone has been using it.” Lucas pointed to some scuffs in the dust on the steps.

  “What?” I leaned down and peered at the marks. “I suppose one of the servants is using it, though they aren’t supposed to. Miss Tanner wants them to use the back stairs. Some of the floorboards are not in the best condition. I’ll talk to Miss Tanner about it. Unless Margaret has been using it.” I stopped. Did the staircase play a part in her secret romance? Was someone going up and down it to avoid the notice of the staff? If so, it was very strange that Margaret would go to such lengths.

  “These are nice carvings.” Lucas ran his hand over one of the elaborate designs on the paneling next to the bookcase. The room had several, like wooden versions of still-life paintings with birds and leaves and vines all intertwined together. “I wish my grandfather could see these. He does a little whittling, but this is astounding.”

  “The carvings were done by a man named Gibbling Griffin,” I said. “He was famous, or at least he is now. He’s dead, of course.” I was getting tangled up in what I was trying to say. “I mean, I don’t know if he was famous when he was alive.”

  Lucas wasn’t even listening to me. He had moved on to a painting my mother had done of a monastery in Germany, St. Augustine’s.

  “That’s Augustinerkloster in Erfurt,” he said.

  “Yes. Have you been there? You used the German word,” I said, surprised.

  “Yes,” he said. “When I was about ten. I … I had relatives in Germany.”

  He’d said “had.” With the war on, people treaded carefully around past associations with Germany, and it had become awkward to ask too many questions. “So, do you speak German?” I asked, thinking that was a less intrusive question.

  He shook his head. “I understand some, but I don’t speak much.”

  His pronunciation hadn’t been all that bad. I was curious about how much he spoke, so I decided to test him. “Did you enjoy your visit?” I asked in German.

  Lucas said ja but didn’t expand on it.

  That hadn’t been enough of a test. I was still standing by the carvings, so this time I said in German, “The work was done by a man named Gibbling Griffin.”

  “I don’t believe you gave him correct information, Lady Thomasina,” Miss Tanner said in German as she came into the room. “The carvings were done by Grinling Gibbons, not Griffin. But how nice you have someone with whom to practice German.”

  Her voice had made me jump. I couldn’t get used to how quietly she moved about the house.

  “Yes, it is nice,” I said, still speaking German. “My school has dropped its German classes, and I don’t want to forget mine. Someday the war will be over and things will be back to normal.”

  “I see,” Miss Tanner said. “Very commendable. If you ever wish for more practice, I’m somewhat proficient in it. It is a beautiful language.”

  I’d had no idea Miss Tanner spoke German. “Thank you,” I said, “but I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.” I didn’t want to feel like I was back in school.

  “I do have some time. Whatever you choose, though,” she said as she left the room.

  “Thank you,” I said again. I turned back to Lucas. “As we have learned, this carving was done by Grinling Gibbons, not Griffin.”

  “Okay, I didn’t understand any of what either of you said in German, except the name. My German isn’t that good. I’ll be sure and remember it’s Gibbons, though.” Lucas smiled. “That seems to be an important fact. It would take a lot of effort to learn about all the things in this house. How many rooms are there, anyway?”

  We walked back
into the hall. “I don’t know. I’ve never counted them.” I tried to do a quick count in my head, but with Lucas standing there, my concentration left me. I had that skin-tingling feeling again, and I wanted to think of something else I could show him so we’d have a few more minutes together. Since Lucas seemed to be waiting for an answer, I said, “About thirty, I suppose, not counting the servants’ quarters.”

  “What do you do with all of them?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you have so many rooms?”

  “I don’t know. We just do.” I was taken aback by his questions.

  “I’ve always wondered why people want such big houses.”

  “Well, how many rooms does your grandfather’s house have?”

  “I’ve never counted them. I suppose eight or nine. He grew up in a big family. We use them all, except for some of the spare bedrooms. It seems like here there are a lot of rooms just to sit in.”

  His remarks made me feel defensive. “It’s not like my father built this house. Some ancestor did, and they thought they needed all the rooms. What were we to do, tear them down?”

  “No, it’s just strange to me.” He went back to studying the cow painting while he talked. “Hannah told me if there wasn’t a war on, there would be at least a dozen servants who would take care of the house, not counting the ones in the kitchen.”

  “Hannah told you that?”

  “She brought up a tea tray early this morning. I told her I don’t drink tea, but she said I might grow accustomed to it. The girl gave me a whole lecture on the health benefits of tea.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was surprising that Miss Tanner had even allowed the girl to take up the tea tray. Before the war, young female maids didn’t enter male guests’ bedrooms when the guests were there. “I’m sorry if she was bothering you. She’s new, and the housekeeper says she’s very talkative.”