The Beast at the Door

by Althea Blue

  “Where did you get the rabbit?” she queried. “I saw lots of vegetables and some fruit trees in the garden, but no rabbit hutches.” She looked at Ada to see if she’d answer.

  “I made a trap. Several in fact. No matter about the high walls, animals do seem to make their way into the garden and some of them make lovely dinners. I have chickens though, around the side. That’s where the eggs come from. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them clucking, they usually do in the mornings.”

  Patience stood up and went to the window, pushing aside the thin sheers that still covered the glass. She looked down and saw the back garden, and no chickens, but when she listened for them she could hear a faint clucking. “How clever. Our cook kept a few chickens, but would usually get frustrated when they hid their eggs and would turn them into dinner themselves sooner or later.”

  She returned to the bed, holding onto the tray so nothing would spill as she slid back under the covers. The fire had gone out at some point and the air was a bit chilly. There was no sign of rain though, and if she did have to leave at least she wouldn’t be soaked immediately. She really didn't want to leave and was trying to think of a way to make that clear.

  Ada was still talking about food. “Sometimes I can shoot down birds that fly overhead. My father taught me to use a bow, but I’m not very accurate. I don’t suppose you know how to shoot?”

  “Certainly not!” Patience confirmed. “My mother would have fallen into a faint at the idea. ‘That would be highly unladylike’,” she stated, aping her mother’s flawless diction and tone. “‘A young lady has no need to learn the gentlemanly pursuits, except to smile and fawn over his accomplishments, should he have any.’ I think she would have preferred for me not to learn anything since walking and talking. Likely not even talking, if possible.”

  Ada giggled again, finding comedy in what, to Patience, was just reality. It encouraged her to continue. “And my father! ‘No young woman of my acquaintance has ever suggested such a ridiculous concept. Learning to shoot? You might as well take up fan dancing and hire yourself out as a circus acrobat!’ He commented on the circus acrobat a lot. To the point where it was my greatest aspiration when I was about ten. If he could think of nothing more degrading for me to be, it would have to be a lot more fun than what he did want.”

  Now Ada was laughing so hard she was shaking. “Can you do any acrobatics?” she asked, when she had calmed down enough to speak.

  “Not a one, unless you count hanging upside down from a tree limb by my knees. Mason taught me to do that when I was four or five. One day I was practicing, hanging from a tree in the back garden, my hair touching the ground and my dress fallen over my face when I heard my mother gasp so loudly it startled me and I tumbled to the ground. When I had sorted myself out and realized who it was, I thought my life expectancy might resemble that of the hen I had already seen killed that morning for supper. I never got to taste the hen though, as I was sent to my room without so much as a crust of bread for the next few days.

  "Mason snuck me in some fruit and cheese. He felt responsible for teaching me, and not ensuring our parents were elsewhere. He tried to explain that to Mother, but she wouldn’t hear of it. It was all right for Mason to do wrong, he was a boy and our father’s heir, so some mistakes could be overlooked, but for a ‘young lady’ to be showing everything from the neck down by hanging from the trees? A scandal! What if someone had seen me? My marriage prospects would have been ruined! Never mind that I was barely out of diapers at the time. Everything I did, she believed, would ruin my chance for a good marriage. You know, I never once heard her speak of a happy marriage. I wonder if those exist too.”

  Ada nodded. “Of course they do. I’ve seen many happy marriages. My parents were happy, I’m sure of it, until my mother died. And my father never wanted to remarry. He said no one could be like my mother, so there was no point. And our cook when I was little was married for nearly thirty years to the same man, and loved visiting her children and grandchildren on her days off. Her husband was a footman nearby so they could see each other over the wall when he drove past and they always smiled at each other. She retired a long time ago, and they went to live with their oldest daughter’s family somewhere in the North. But it seemed like a perfect fairy tale to me, even with no prince.”

  “I met a prince once,” Patience mentioned. “He was fat and sweaty and very self-important. That pretty much ruined fairy tales for me.”

  Ada laughed again.

  Patience noticed the way her eyes sparkled and there was a dimple on her left cheek, but none on her right. Patience thought how lovely that was. She didn’t have dimples, they had always seemed to belong to a different sort of girl, and she suspected her eyes never sparkled like that either. Truthfully, she rarely laughed that freely. She let herself laugh now, more in delight at the chance to do so with another girl than because she thought anything she’d said was that humorous. It was a freeing feeling. She wished she had someone to laugh with all the time.

  Patience watched Ada surreptitiously, pretending to look for something else to eat on the tray, which they had managed to demolish thoroughly. She longed to bring up the topic of staying again, but didn’t know how to go about it. She wanted to stay more than ever, not just because of the warmth and the food, but because it had been so long since she had laughed at all, or had someone to really talk to without having to censor every word. She fell silent and Ada looked at her, again, blushing slightly.

  “I suppose I had better get dressed,” Patience said, nodding to her dress at the bottom of the bed.

  Ada was dressed similarly to how she had been the night before, and Patience was beginning to feel odd about still being in a nightdress, especially one that wasn’t hers.

  Ada slid off the bed, placing the tray back on the table where it had started. She lifted the basket up to replace it and uncovered the contents. It mostly held food: what looked like a cold roasted chicken, fruit and vegetables, a couple of loafs of bread and some nuts. Traveling food.

  Patience could also see a comb and brush and a small mirror, some soap, a sewing case and warm stockings, things that she should have had with her from the start had her trip been better planned.

  “You can take the cloak too, the one you wore last night, and the book of course,” Ada said, sounding slightly reluctant. “Please tell me if there’s anything else you need. I wasn’t sure…”

  Patience felt her heart heave miserably within her. She stared at the basket and unbidden, tears rose to her eyes. She bit her lip to keep them from falling. “Please do not make me leave,” she whispered without looking up.

  She heard only silence. She raised her eyes to Ada’s face and saw that the dark-haired girl had gone pale. She didn’t immediately deny Patience’s request this time, though, so the pleading continued. “I do not believe I can continue. I know nothing about traveling without servants and chests and train tickets. I am scared all the time. I was so hungry and so cold and it is just going to get worse. I never thought about what I would do once I left home, just that I had to leave. I have never been so stupid in my life. But I know I could help you here. I saw no other servants, and you cannot look after this whole house on your own. I could tidy and sweep and polish. I could cook or scour the pots or anything else you need help with. I know I do not know everything, but I am a quick learner and I promise you would only have to show me once.”

  She took a breath and then continued immediately, as if by leaving a pause she would be inviting Ada to refuse her. “I know you are strong and clever but it is such a big house and I would not need wages at all, just a little food. I could work in your garden and collect eggs from your chickens and learn to butcher the animals you trap. I will do anything you want. And when your masters get home I will beg them to keep me on. I promise I will not get you into trouble. Just please do not send me away. I never had a friend before.” Patience’s head was empty of more words that might help convince Ada but she was terrifie
d to look up at the girl and see the denial that she knew was coming.

  When there was no immediate response, Patience risked a quick glance. Ada wasn’t looked at her, wasn’t seemingly looking at anything. She was chewing on her lip and looked very deep in thought. Patience wouldn’t risk interrupting for anything, as long as it ended in her favor. She waited possibly the longest couple of minutes of her life before Ada spoke.

  “If you promised to only stay on this floor, and not to go downstairs ever, the creature doesn’t come up here. And if you stayed pretty quiet, no one but me would know you were here. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try it for a while. But you’d have to promise to stay on this floor. There’s nothing upstairs, just a lot of rooms that aren’t used anymore so they are closed up. But you must promise not to go up there and not to go downstairs ever. If the creature sees you there, he will eat you. But you could go in all the rooms on this floor and read the books. And then we could talk about them, if you wanted to. Can you promise me that? To just stay here and not go off exploring?”

  Patience nodded so fast her neck hurt. “I will promise anything you want. And I will do all the cleaning on this floor, so you will not have to worry about it. If you show me where the rags and brooms are kept I can start now. Anything!”

  Ada smiled, though more faintly than before. “You should probably get dressed first. You don’t have to worry about that, I take care of everything. Just stay in these rooms. And I tried to mend your dress but I’m afraid it’s beyond my skill. There are clothes hanging in some of the cupboards in the other bedrooms. Feel free to wear anything you can fit into. I need to take these things downstairs now, but I’ll come back later to visit. I hope you won’t be too bored.” She went to pick up the tray but Patience forestalled her by pulling her into a hug.

  Ada responded “oh” in surprise as Patience squeezed her gently. Patience wasn’t actually sure who she had surprised more. She hadn’t meant to hug the girl, just to thank her. Patience had never hugged anyone who wasn’t related to her, and hadn’t hugged anyone at all since the day her brother left for training. Startled, she released Ada and stepped back, her face flaming. She did not blush prettily so she turned to look out the window as Ada gathered the tray and the basket and took them out of the room. Patience heard her feet going down the stairs as she wondered whatever had possessed her.

  Chapter Eight

  It was a wonderful treat to be able to lie around in a warm, safe bed, to be fed and properly dressed and to be able to read any book at any time Patience wanted without having to hide. Even more thrilling was the chance to talk about the books with an interested and informed person. While Mason had been a help in giving books to Patience to read, he hadn’t usually read them himself and wasn’t interested in discussing them.

  Ada had seemingly read every book in the library and had things to say about each of them. They talked about character flaws and plot points and the difference between male and female authors. Even which characters they would want to be. But Patience could only talk books and let’s pretend while Ada was free, and she seemed to have a lot of things to do for most of the day.

  “But why can I not help?” Patience asked. “To be fair I have never exactly cleaned before, but I am sure sweeping and mopping a floor cannot be as difficult as all that,” she insisted to Ada one morning over breakfast taken in Patience’s room. Ada had introduced a table and chairs into the corner and it was much easier to eat when sitting properly in a chair than tucked into a bed.

  “I just don’t need help,” Ada insisted, as she had before. “Taking care of the house doesn’t take that much time, really. I have a system all worked out.”

  “I would like to be useful,” Patience commented, as she had on similar occasions over the last week or so. “Surely there must be something.” When she really thought about it though, she never saw any dust or dirt in any of the rooms she explored. Even the ones that didn’t seem to be in use. She just didn’t know how it was possible. She never saw Ada in the library or her bedroom with a dusting rag, but even under the bed (Patience had peeked) there was not the faintest sign of dust bunnies.

  Ada thought about it. “I suppose you could polish the silverware. I can bring it up to you after we eat.”

  Patience nodded eagerly. At least she would feel useful for a few minutes. The butler usually polished the silverware in her home. It was considered an important task, making sure the valuable pieces looked perfect, and not ever left to a lesser servant. But her heart sank when Ada brought the pieces upstairs. To her they already looked polished, and clearly this was just make-work. Still, she listened carefully as Ada explained.

  “The larger pieces go in the bucket, and the smaller in the bowl. You pour this solution into each, up to where the black mark is,” she pointed to a clearly drawn line in the bucket that was about an inch long, “then you drop the silver in and count to 60 seconds, pull them out using the tongs, and drop them in the water here.” She indicated a large basin full of warm water. “Try not to let the solution touch your skin, it’ll sting, and it can burn if you don’t wash it off quickly.”

  Patience was confused. “At home the butler spends hours polishing with silver polish. When does that part come in?” Ada hadn’t brought any polish, that she could see, and no rags to wipe anything off.

  Ada smiled. “We don’t use that here. This is much easier. My father created the solution, one of his successes. It only takes 60 seconds, once a month, and the silver looks perfect. Probably it could go longer between cleanings, but that was what he recommended. The solution removes any tarnish that has built up on the silver and seals it so no oxygen can get in to create further tarnishing. My father worked this process out in order to save servants all that effort just to keep silver looking nice.

  "Your butler probably spent hours each week doing what we can do here in a single minute. And as it’s only done once a month, and anyone can do it, the servant could be used for more interesting or necessary labor. Father has created many labor-saving devices, like this. He means to patent them and release them for widespread use.” She had seemed happy when describing the use of the product but now her face fell. “I mean, he will when he returns. I could do so on his behalf, but that would indicate to people that he’s unavailable.” She shook her head as if to clear her mind. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to the chore. I have some stew on the stove and I want to make sure it doesn’t scorch.”

  She left Patience alone with the silver, the solution, and her thoughts. She was very curious about Ada’s father. He seemed to be a man of some great intellect but also strange. He had encouraged his daughter’s mind and education, which was unlike any father Patience had ever run across, but he had also left her alone to fend for herself. Ada seemed to believe he was coming back some day, but he had clearly been gone long enough that she had had to take a domestic position in order to keep herself fed and housed. This led to wondering about the owners of the home she presently occupied. Ada had not spoken of them except to allude to some form of travel.

  And why would they leave a sole servant girl in charge of a large house and a horrid monster? Had the creature arrived after they left? If so, how was Ada keeping it controlled? She made Patience stay upstairs in order to avoid the creature knowing she was there, but didn’t seem at all worried that it would scent her, or hear her and climb the stairs itself. Was the creature intelligent? Patience had seen no sign of gates or barriers keeping it from climbing to the first floor, but it never had. She heard the roaring sometimes, and stayed in her room with the door closed when she did, but the sound never varied and seemed to take place only in one or two rooms, both facing the front of the house. It didn’t seem to care for the back rooms.

  And why were the drapes drawn so close everywhere the creature was not. Ada had made her promise not to open the drapes in the front of the house, though she was free to look out over the back garden all she wanted. The whole thing made no sense. She shook her head. Best ge
t to work, she thought, with no little amusement.

  She poured the solution into the two containers, stopping exactly at the black indicators. Then she dropped each piece of silver in, as many as would fit, counted to 60 and removed the pieces to place them in the water. When she carefully examined a fork, she could see no difference before and after its bath, but she shrugged and continued. The whole tray of silver that Ada had brought her took less than five minutes and then her task was done. That wasn’t really what she’d meant when she asked for something to do.

  She didn’t want to call down to Ada to say she was done, in case the beast heard her, so she left the containers where they were on the table and walked over to the window. It was a cold and gloomy day. No sun peeked through heavy clouds and she was sure it would start raining in the next little while. She shuddered, remembering the chill she’d taken when she’d been caught by the storm earlier in the month. She hoped she was never that cold again. Even the memory of it chilled her down to her toes. She gazed around for something to do, found nothing as usual, and picked up a book, pulling one of the chairs nearer the fire so she could warm her feet as she read.

  Patience was beginning to feel like a caged animal. She paced up and down the hallway, counting her steps. She knew this corridor intimately, could have walked it blindfolded and told a listener exactly what she was passing at any given moment. For variety she went into each room as she passed and looked outside, careful not to dislodge the curtains over the windows that faced the front. The sun shone but she could see a rime of frost in a few places. She gazed over the back garden, wishing she could at least visit that. She made up her mind to ask Ada about it when the girl brought up lunch. Surely if she was quiet the creature would not be roused by a single girl taking the stairs and going directly outside, especially if she walked with Ada so any sound could be attributed to her.