“It is my business,” another voice said, cutting the first one off. “If you’re overheard complaining when I’m near, it could reflect on me as well. I could get in trouble for it, too. I just started and don’t need to be associated with gossip and whining. All I ask is that you do it elsewhere, when I’m not around.”
Was that Abigail’s voice? Ben moved closer, peeking around the corner to see who was talking. Sure enough, Abigail was there, but without Mrs. Roberts. The other voice had belonged to Arianna Cox, a laundry maid. Sadie Ellis, a kitchen maid, was there, too. The two women glared at Abigail, their stances rigid, as if they were ready to go into battle.
“Listen, I understand complaining about your job and your employer,” Abigail said. “I get it, I really do. Just don’t do it around me. I have been told to help out in the laundry for a few hours so I have to be here. Go and whine about Mrs. Huntsman somewhere else. I don’t need to get in trouble my second day because of negative speech. Isn’t that what the last girl, Samantha, was fired for?”
“Don’t get all snooty with me,” Arianna said, looking to Sadie, who was nodding vigorously. “I’ll say what I like when I like. You can’t tell me not to.”
“Let me tell you something about what I can and can’t do,” Abigail said, focusing those eyes on Arianna. The chips of ice looked like diamonds now, and the fire behind them seemed more intense. “I can talk to Mrs. Roberts and tell her I can’t work with you two shrieking about how much you hate the lady of the manor. Where would that get you, do you think?”
She waited for a moment to see if there would be any reaction from the women. Both of them fidgeted, glancing at each other. Ben chuckled inwardly. They definitely did not want Abigail to talk to Mrs. Roberts about this.
Abigail’s eyes softened and her voice grew warmer. “I don’t want any friction, and I don’t want to talk to Mrs. Roberts about this. I really do understand the need to complain occasionally, but I don’t want to catch any backlash if the wrong person should hear. I’ll finish up the laundry. Why don’t you two go where you can talk in private?”
Arianna raised her chin and sniffed. Sadie tried to imitate her, but it was ruined by the darting of her eyes, from Arianna to Abigail and back again. “Fine, if you want to do all the work, go ahead. You better do a good job. I don’t want to get in trouble for your laziness.”
With that, both women strutted out of the laundry room as if they were queens. Ben ducked into a utility closet to avoid being seen. As the two passed, he heard them muttering something about “thinking she’s more than she is” and “getting back at her.”
As he left the closet to head back to his room, Ben smiled. So, this Abigail had a little fire in her, and some tact, too. She had more going for her than just her amazing eyes, it seemed. Those eyes flashed in his mind again as he walked, making him smile even more widely.
“I just don’t know,” Ben said to Lucas. “I still don’t understand why Susan would leave without saying anything to me. We seemed like we were getting along so well.”
“Hey,” Lucas said, lounging on one of the sofas in the recreation room while Ben was shooting pool. “Don’t take it so personally. Maybe there was an emergency and she had to go. She’ll get in touch. She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who just leaves you hanging like that.”
“Lucas, it’s been almost a year. I’ve asked everyone else I know. Her parents say they don’t know where she went, either. They filed a missing person’s report. I knew it wouldn’t do much good to ask my mother, but I did. That shows how desperate I am.”
Ben looked at his friend. Lucas, at just over six feet tall when he stood up straight, was gangly and awkward when not behind the wheel. His curly dark hair was normally covered with the little hat Margaret required him to wear to match his uniform. Somehow, he even made that silly hat look cool. He was street smart and smooth in the way only “people of the earth” could be. That’s one of the names Ben’s mother used to describe those without lots of money.
Lucas’s father and grandfather were racecar drivers. Lucas had been, too, for a year or two. Growing up, he was always in and around cars. He could take an engine apart and put it back together before he had learned to ride a bike. Yes, Lucas could drive. Why he took a job as a driver for his family instead of driving racecars or making more money in other driving professions, Ben didn’t know, but he was glad Lucas was here.
He had been driving and acting as Ben’s personal valet for over nine years now. The young Mason was not interested in being friends with the rich kids his mother wanted him to associate with, and she would not allow him to have friends who weren’t rich, not for long. He had no proof, but he thought she had even gone so far as to have the father of one of his friends fired so they had to move away. All for the security of the family and the bloodline, he was sure.
Lucas turned his brown eyes to Ben’s blue. “Did your mother know about Susan? I mean, about how much you like her and how much time you two had been spending together?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so. Why?”
“Oh,” Lucas said, “just wondering.”
Ben looked at his friend, saying nothing.
“Okay, okay,” Lucas said after a long moment. “I just wonder if your mom may have had something to do with Susan leaving suddenly. She’s been gone for so long and her parents have no idea where she went.” He watched Ben’s face, as if looking for any sign of what he thought about the accusation. “She can be very persuasive, your mother, especially when she opens up the checkbook. Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true. Maybe your mother made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”
“Be careful, Lucas. People have been fired for saying less. People who had worked here longer than you have at this point.”
“I know, I know. I’m just saying it to you, though. You won’t turn me in, will you?” He winked at Ben.
Ben laughed. “No, I won’t turn you in. I had the same thought myself, to be honest. That’s why I wanted to ask her about it. I hope it wasn’t that. I’d hate to think she’d just take some money and leave like that. Then again, compared to the alternative…”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure we’ll find out eventually. I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding.”
“Maybe,” Ben said.
“So, Ben, have you thought about what we talked about?” Lucas said.
“Yes, and I think you’re wrong. I think I treat everyone equally.”
“Uh, no.” Lucas said. “You totally judge people by their money and their upbringing.”
Ben eyed his friend. “No I don’t. I treat people the way they deserve.”
“The way you think they deserve, you mean.”
“I am not a snob. Mother keeps me from associating with poor people. It’s not by choice.”
“You look down on others who are not as rich or influential as your family,” Lucas said.
“I do not,” Ben countered. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? You’re not rich.”
“You’re right, I’m not rich, but you don’t hang out with me openly, and you won’t call me your friend.”
“Come on, Lucas,” Ben said, sounding to himself to be too whiny. “You know I can’t do that. My mother would take it out on you.”
“Ben, you don’t refer to me as your friend with anyone else. I understand it with your mother, but why with everyone else?”
“I…there’s…it’s because…” Ben’s voice trailed off. “I guess you have a point. Maybe I do look down at people who aren’t rich. At least a little bit. I didn’t think so, but…”
“An even better question to ask yourself is if you see our new maid as a person or as just another hired helper. Would you be interested in dating her?”
“What? Why would you ask me that? Listen, my thoughts have been frazzled lately. Don’t beat me up too hard, okay? Let’s talk about it another time.”
Lucas patted Ben’s shoulder. “Okay, enough said. You really are a goo
d person, Ben. Even if you are a rich guy. Just think about it, okay?”
Chapter 10
Abigail went about her work, trying to figure out where she could go to get evidence that Margaret Hunstman was the one whose magic killed Olivia. Not being a chamber maid created difficulties because she would have to come up with excuses to be where she could find something that had magical residue and wouldn’t be missed. That Harper woman seemed to think she was a guard for the entire area around Margaret Huntsman’s rooms. The last thing Abbie needed was to get fired for theft.
She was still irritated with her confrontation with the other two women a few days before. Stupid women. Not only were they petty and unthinking, they were onlies. She hated it that the situation had stuck in her mind and was affecting her even now.
Abigail straightened from dusting under the hallway table on which a small sculpture sat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and shifted her eyes, leaving her head immobile. It was Benjamin Mason. She allowed a small smile to play across her face before she smoothed it away. He seemed to be popping up quite often since she’d met him four days before.
She saw him look around to see if anyone else was watching. There was no one else in sight, so he started walking toward her.
“Good morning, Abigail,” he said, smiling at her.
“Good morning, Master Mason.”
“No, no, please. Please don’t ‘Master Mason’ me. It’s Ben, just Ben.”
“I would get in a lot of trouble if anyone heard me calling you that, Master Mason.”
He looked into her eyes as if to see if she was teasing him. The subtle shift in his, along with a tiny crinkle in the skin around his eyes, told her he figured out that she was.
“Fine, then only when no one else is around. Please.”
“Okay, Ben.” She smiled mischievously at him. “When no one else is around. But only if you call me Abbie.”
“It’s a deal, Abbie,” he said as he reached out his hand to shake hers. When they clasped hands, she felt that little jolt again.
He stood there staring at her, not releasing her hand, looking into her eyes. After a time, he started, and his eyes widened as he realized he was just standing there holding her hand. He released it hastily and color came to his face.
“Well, then,” he said, “I...uh…how have things been going? Do you like it here?”
“It’s very nice,” Abigail said. “I’m still getting used to things, but I think I’ll enjoy being here.”
“Good, good. You make sure you let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you acclimate and to make you more comfortable.”
“There is one thing,” she said, leaning in close to whisper in his ear.
“Yes?” he matched her tone and volume.
“There is a guy who’s been lurking around. I’m not sure of his intentions, and it makes me a little nervous.”
Ben’s face went blank and the color left it. “Oh. I’m…I’m sorry Abbie. Have I been making myself a nuisance? The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. Please forgive me. I—” Abbie’s hand on his arm made his stop speaking and look at her. When he saw her smile, he let out a long breath. “You’re teasing me,” he said.
“Uh, yep.” She patted his arm.
“Whew. Okay.” Ben was silent for a moment. “Tell me if I bother you. You don’t need that on top of starting a new job and all that.”
Abbie laughed. “No, it’s fine. You’re not bothering me. I do wonder about your intentions, though.”
“That’s easy enough,” he said. “You are fascinating to me. I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”
“Everything, huh? That’s a lot of stuff.”
“I am willing to put in the time,” he said, finally smiling and looking more comfortable. “More than willing.”
“Why don’t we just see what happens and not sweat it too much,” Abbie said.
“One thing,” Ben countered. “Tell me one thing about you, and I’ll let you get back to work. Anything at all.”
Abbie thought for a moment. She shouldn’t be flirting with this man, especially in the middle of a mission, but she felt so comfortable with him, so close already. What harm could one little piece of information do?
“My favorite color is sea foam green.”
“It is?” Ben said. “That’s good to know. I will definitely remember it. Thank you. I’ll let you go back to work now.” He turned to leave but stopped when she put her hand on his arm again.
“Hold on a second,” she said. What about you? You have to give me some information about yourself. It’s no fair otherwise.”
“I guess that’s fair. My favorite color is blue.” He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, causing goose bumps to run up and down her neck. “The exact color of your eyes.” He looked deeply into them, and he seemed to shudder as he tore his gaze away. The light seemed to dim when their eye contact was broken, making her sad for the loss. His own blue eyes seemed to hold mysteries enough to explore for the rest of her life.
“I’ll leave now,” he said, and then he turned and walked quickly away. She giggled under her breath. He looked like he was fleeing.
Abigail settled into a routine, doing her work efficiently and without direct supervision. Mrs. Roberts generally left her alone after the first few days, confident that Abigail knew the rules of the house and that she would do the job she was hired to do. She occasionally saw the Housekeeper, and the older woman would smile at her and ask if she had any problems. Abbie would tell her no and continue whatever task she’d been performing.
She hadn’t found anything with magical residue so far in her work, and she had tried. Her talent for detecting the effects of magic was something she needed to focus on, like background noise that didn’t make sense until you directed attention to it. She could concentrate and make her detection more sensitive, but she wasn’t going to go about the house looking as if she was straining to focus on something. People would think she was strange. Besides, if the residue wasn’t strong enough for her to detect without effort, it was probably too weak for Isabella to get a good reading on it. She would just have to keep looking.
A week into the job, she tried to get near Margaret’s rooms on the third floor, but every time she came anywhere close to them, she spotted Harper, looking like she was guarding the hallway in front of them. She had to abruptly change the direction she was walking to avoid looking like she was going toward the forbidden area. It was frustrating.
One time, Mrs. Roberts called Abbie to her as she passed in the hall.
“Oh, Abigail, good. Here, take this tea to Ms. Huntsman. She is in the office near her rooms. Harper is currently engaged in something else. Hurry now. Ms. Huntsman does not like to be kept waiting.”
It was the break she had been waiting for, a chance to scope out Margaret’s rooms and see if she detected anything. As she headed toward her destination, though, she started to worry. Her talent of being able to sense magic and magical residue was fairly rare, but it was not extremely so. In fact, in just her small coven, there were two with such a talent, her and Isabella.
What if Margaret Huntsman had the talent, too? It allowed Abbie to sense magical ability in people. If Margaret could do that, she would pick Abbie out as a witch and know she was a spy. She could seize Abbie or kill her on the spot. She hadn’t thought of that. Talents were generally kept secret outside of the covens, so Abbie could not be sure if she was at risk.
On the ten-point scale most covens used, Abigail was almost a level seven witch. Between what she had seen in the vision and heard from other accounts, Margaret was most likely at level eight. That was the same level of Abigail’s mother’s power. If the woman attacked her, Abbie probably wouldn’t survive.
As she passed through the halls, Abbie tried to figure out what to do. She could trip and spill the tea, requiring her to go back and get more, but that would only delay things. She couldn’t think of what to do, so she
trudged inexorably toward the room. And possibly toward her doom.
When she arrived at the carved wooden door to the office Mrs. Roberts had told her Margaret was using, she knocked twice and opened the door, as etiquette required. Taking a deep breath, she entered, carrying the tray with the full teapot, a cup on a saucer, three wedges of lemon on a plate, a single spoon on a napkin, and a small ceramic container of honey.
“Bring it in, girl,” Margaret said, only glancing at her before turning her attention back to the papers on her desk.
Abigail set the tray down on a side table and brought the cup and saucer to her. She filled it with tea as Margaret finally looked up at her.
“You’re the new maid, correct?” Margaret said.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Abigail.” She made a small curtsy.
“Abigail. Yes.” Margaret looked into her eyes, her dark hazel orbs drilling into Abbie’s.
The other woman sat stone still, looking into Abbie’s eyes as if trying to read her soul. She could feel her face flush and her scalp started to warm. In another moment, she would have beads of sweat on her forehead. The woman knew. She did have the talent and recognized Abbie for a witch and a spy. Abigail frantically thought of what spells she would use, how she would fight, what she would try to do. She almost cast the first spell to make the odds more even.
“You’re pretty enough,” Margaret said. “Go on with you. I can put my own honey in. I won’t need you further.”
Abigail almost sighed as she controlled the exhalation so that the woman in front of her wouldn’t recognize her near-panic. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Oh, and Abigail,” Margaret’s voice followed her.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you for the tea.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Abbie went through the door and closed it behind her. She slumped as all the nervous energy left her body, making her feel like a wet noodle. Movement from the corner of her eye made her turn her head to see Harper coming up the hall. Her face was even more tightly drawn and her mouth even more pinched than when Abbie had met her that first day. She looked at Abigail accusingly.
Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1) Page 6
