Wedgewick Woman Read online

  Blithers’ eyebrows shot up. “You thought that?”

  “You never once seemed to let her childish behavior bother you.”

  “’Tis my duty.” Blithers said carefully.

  “Do you mean to say that you agree with me, then?”

  “Quite the truth, Sir.”

  “Well, Blithers, I never once received such a sign from you. I thought I was pretty much a dead fish…no way out but the dinner table, you know?”

  “Know it quite well, Sir. She was a silly, foolish woman.”

  “Quite.” Lord Carmichael smiled. “I’ll sleep better knowing it wasn’t just me.”

  “No sir, it was not only you. Why the staff…” he stopped his ramblings.

  “The staff?” He paused. “Continue on, Blithers.”

  “Oh ‘twas nothing, Sir.”

  “Go on. That’s an order, Blithers.” Lord Carmichael stood facing his valet, feet spread wide, arms crossed over his massive chest, allowing no aversion.

  Lord Carmichael watched his faithful valet struggle, but made no move to relieve him.

  “The staff, and I’m afraid myself included, hoped you’d survive the goings-on of Lady Carmichael’s irrational behavior. Aye, there were times we thought her quite incapable of being the mother of your heir, much less able to handle the duties of your estates in the event of your…your demise.”

  “So you did, did you?” Lord Carmichael turned, hands clasped behind his back. “And why did none of you state your concerns to me?”

  “Lady Helen committed us to secrecy, telling us that she would devise such horrible stories about each of us that we feared for our positions. Quite unsettling…” his voice trailed off at the memory.

  Lord Carmichael’s laugh boomed throughout the room. “You look downright fearful, Blithers.”

  Ashamed to have admitted it, he turned aside and busied himself while his employer laughed unabashedly.

  “So she got to you, too? I never thought to see it happen to you Blithers, but that shows you the importance of choosing a suitable wife. And now you’ve a spot of understanding why I shall not remarry…most assuredly not another Wedgewick woman.”

  Blithers nodded nervously and watched as the tall, handsome man he thought of as a son, leave the room, his deep laughter echoing as he strode down the quiet hallway.

  Chapter 4

  “James what do you intend to do about this?” Lord Carmichael waved the missive in his huge fist.

  “Might I have a look?” James suggested, his hands shaking.

  The Laird slapped the paper against James’ chest and waited impatiently as his accountant read the missive.

  “Well…” James’ face reddened as he searched his mind frantically for the right words. “We shall pay it?”

  “Pay it? You answer my question with a question? My wife has been dead for over a year and we have reason to believe she purchased this amount in gowns, bonnets and petticoats? I had it on your word that we paid her debts.”

  “Absurd as it sounds, sir…your wife…well…”

  “Say it, man before I give you notice.”

  The small man pulled at his neck cloth and swallowed convulsively, his face coloring above his tight white collar.

  “She…she purchased rather large amounts of silk, Sir. From China. And…well…she instructed that it be charged to her account one year from the date of her visit so as not to…to let you know how much she’d ordered. It seems that I have forgotten this last purchase.”

  “She what? Who in their right mind would accept this amount on credit terms and then wait a year to be paid?” he shouted. “And how could you, my accountant, possibly have forgotten such a figure?”

  “Well, she did pay half of it, Lord Carmichael. It was the other half she asked to have as a hold, and of course the owner of the emporium agreed.”

  “Aye, I’ll wager he was most happy to do so.”

  James sank into his chair and smoothed the crinkled paper on the desktop.

  “Half? Half? You mean to say we’ve paid this figure once already?”

  “That is the truth of it, sir.” He stood to his feet again, but this time planted himself safely behind the desk, in the event the Laird lost his temper.

  “And where are these silks?”

  “Being shipped even now.” James’ voice was barely audible above the thundering voice of the Laird. “Or so it appears on the invoice.”

  “And what am I to do with who-knows-how-many lengths of pure silk?” His fist flew into the air in a wild sweeping gesture as he paced the room.

  Lord Carmichael’s booming voice and salty words drew a small crowd at the door. When he turned toward the commotion in the hallway he shouted, “And what have ye to do?”

  The help scurried away, hoping there was nothing in the works that would jeopardize their jobs. After Lord Carmichael’s wife had caused such trickery they feared for their positions even after her death.

  Word had gotten around that she had a fox in the chicken house to do her dirty work and as of this moment no one knew who the sinister offender was, only that there were still goings-on that the master would not be happy to hear about…one of which was the most recent invoice requiring a small fortune, that had only just arrived this day.

  Talk was, someone in the manor still carried out Lady Carmichaels wishes; for several had received notices that their positions were in jeopardy if they did not pay fees to a faceless and yet unnamed creature. Fearful of the master’s response some had tried to ignore the issuances, hoping to settle the matter by seeking out who it was among them that was causing the stir and ridding themselves of the fox. Fearing for their positions or of bringing the problem to the attention of their Laird, most had paid.

  The entire affair had sent a wave of nervousness and foreboding throughout the castle that promised no good ending. Head cook, Mrs. Emerald Calvert had appointed herself leader of the kitchen crew to try to wash out any among the servants who might be suspect.

  Twice someone had come knocking at the servant’s entrance to the kitchen asking for “fees.” And twice Mrs. Calvert had grabbed the heavy broom she’d set next to the door for just that purpose, and run the culprit off into the night.

  “To think that the master would know of such sinful goings-on.” She uttered to her staff. “Nothing good will come of this. Tis best to step forward and take your beatings now, ere you end up in the shackles at the last.” She warned, hoping it was not one among her own people.

  It had been a fortnight since anything suspicious had occurred, much to Mrs. Calvert’s relief for she genuinely cared for her master. Since James’ news regarding the expensive silks had trickled down to the help, she’d worried herself through dinner and was cleaning up when a loud knock sounded at the back door.

  Heart beating furiously, for it was a dark and moonless night, she turned down the gas lights, grabbed her straw weapon, crossed herself and yanked open the door. There he was! Only this time he wore a hat, and appeared larger, stronger, more menacing than the little man that had shown his faceless body before.

  “State yer business.” She said loudly, her heart banging against her ribs.

  “Here to collect fees.” He stepped toward her, his stance menacing, his voice disguised.

  “Step back, if ye knows what’s good for ya.” She raised her broom high in the air. “Get on out of here, ‘fore I haul you up to the master. And don’t ya set foot at this door agin, if ye know what’s good for ya.” She repeated.

  “Have we an unworthy visitor?” A deep voice thundered from behind her.

  Mrs. Calvert’s knees weakened and she nearly dropped to the floor as the broom’s handle slammed loudly on the stone floor, it’s sound reverberating through the night. She grabbed her heart.

  “Oh, ‘tis only a stranger.” She sighed loudly.

  “Stranger? Oh come Mrs. Calvert. You’ve seen this one before haven’t you?” Laird Carmichael moved stealthily toward the man.

  Befor
e she could answer, the stranger turned and ran into the dark night with the master chasing him.

  Mrs. Calvert regained her normal heart beat, her knees still shaking and in the matter of two minutes, Lord Carmichael had chased the man down, his duds in his fist, and was dragging him inside.

  “Let’s see who our fearless thief is shall we Mrs. Calvert?”

  She nodded wide-eyed and crossed herself again.

  Lord Carmichael stifled the urge to laugh aloud at the look of astonishment in Mrs. Calvert’s blue eyes, her face reddened by fear. She’d held up quite well until help had come to her assistance he noted. He knew Mrs. Calvert to be the most fearless among his servants.

  Pulling the hat off the man’s head and the scarf that surrounded his face, Laird Carmichael heard her intake of breath that matched his own.

  “James.” They said together.

  “Why you scoundrel.” Mrs. Calvert heard her master say through clenched teeth.

  “Shall I call Ross?” She whispered breathlessly.

  “What for? I say we deal with him. Now, James, have a word with Mrs. Calvert and me. Tell all.”

  The fire popped twice in the grate and James jumped both times. He was still in his master’s grip and sought to release himself, but Lord Carmichael only tightened his hold.

  “Speak, man.”

  “Well, I…”

  “The truth, or I’ll have your head.”

  “It was her.”

  “Who?”

  “Lady Carmichael.” He admitted, shoulders fallen. “She paid me to divert your attention to her affairs by…by…”

  “Get to it man.” Lord Carmichael shouted.

  Mrs. Calvert’s ears rang.

  “By getting dues from the help.”

  “Dues from the help?” He repeated loudly.

  “Yes, she used the money to pay some of the debt she didn’t want you to find out about. And we, well, she figured out a way to defer some of the payments by purchasing um…rather large amounts of goods and paying half, then having the merchant wait for half. That gave her time to collect dues…you know.”

  “How much did you pay, Mrs. Calvert?”

  “Nothing sir.”

  “We couldn’t get anything from her…like we could the rest of the them.” James stuttered.

  Lord Carmichael nearly laughed. “You mean you couldn’t get this woman to go along with your schemes?”

  “No, sir, she chased me away with that look and her broom. Scared me, so I tried putting on bigger boots and a bigger hat so she’d go along.”

  “And you see that she didn’t?” He played along, then sprang the next question. “Who’s in cahoots with you?”

  “No one.” He said too quickly.

  “Oh?”

  With his sword dangling so near, and his huge size, not to mention his employment status, James snapped. “Twas her. Truth be told, it was Lady Carmichael.”

  “What in heaven’s name do you mean man? She’s been gone for nearly a year. What say you…and make it plain.”

  Icy green eyes held his own bespectacled tweedy brown ones captive. The Laird’s huge neck was about to explode.

  “She told me that if I ever stopped, she’d know, even from beyond the grave…she did.” He stuttered.

  “And you believed her?” Lord Carmichael laughed aloud at this. One look at James and he knew he had been taken in. “Have you no sense left man? No pride?”

  “No sir.” He admitted sheepishly. “The woman plundered my brain until I couldn’t think anymore.”

  “I know what ye speak of, man for she did the same to me.” Lord Carmichael admitted before he released his hold on James.

  “You will return everything you’ve taken, is that clear? I will distribute your wages among the staff from whom you’ve stolen and then you will be booted out of here on the morrow without so much as a horse to ride upon. Is that understood?”

  James nodded, as he straightened his clothes, his hands going in his pockets and out again.

  “Now Mrs. Calvert, were you wantin’ to make use of that broom?”

  “Aye, but I’ve had enough for this evenin’ Sir, but thank ye just the same.”

  “If ye’re sure Mrs. Calvert?” He gave her another chance.

  “I’d best be gettin’ on to bed afore it’s mornin’ and all this comes to the rest of the staff.” She uttered, setting the broom by the back door.

  “James, you will sleep in the storage room, locked up for the night. I shall come and get you at sunrise and we will discuss this matter further.”

  “Yessir.”

  Lord Carmichael stepped aside while James slowly entered the darkened room, found a seat on an old crate, looking quite relieved it appeared; then locked the door. Laird Carmichael tossed the key to Mrs. Calvert and headed upstairs where Blithers was nearly beside himself wondering what could’ve happened to his master.

  “Well Blithers, we’ve got our man.”

  “Man, Sir?”

  “You mean you haven’t been giving your fees?” he laughed.

  “Fees, Sir?”

  “Never mind. Get my bed turned down. I’ll need to rise early on the morrow. Oh, and Blithers lock the door to the library?”

  “Yessir.” Blithers noted the look of satisfaction in his master’s eyes and for once could not read his thoughts.

  Chapter 5

  After his morning bath, Laird Carmichael called the staff together in the library. He settled into James’ chair, opened the account books and gathered papers scattered across the desk.

  Looking up he heard the scuffle of feet, the whispers in the hallway.

  Mrs. Calvert appeared in the doorway. “We’re assembled, Laird Carmichael.”

  “Enter.” He called and waited while the group of twenty-seven servants eased themselves just inside the door.

  He stood. “I regret to inform you that we have one person who has lost their position.”

  A collective shock ran through the group, each looking to the other.

  “Let me explain. Blithers will you bring James from the pantry.”

  The Laird lifted his hands to quiet the whispers. James’ bedraggled appearance at the door caused a hush.

  He watched as, one by one, the people covered their mouths in disbelief when he revealed the man’s deeds, for James was a respected member of the Laird’s clan.

  “It has been said that a scoundrel as yet unknown has been collecting dues, as it were. Who among you has paid?”

  He waited, arms crossed over his massive chest, while each looked to another. Slowly, most raised their hands. “And in what amounts, may I inquire?”

  Suddenly there were figures flying at him from every direction, mostly whispered.

  “Why do you whisper? We have the culprit…do not fear telling your Laird when you have been thieved right under your noses in this manor. What is it ye all fear that ye could not come to me?”

  Mrs. Calvert spoke, “Aye, it was told throughout that Lady Carmichael had someone among us who, when she was absent from the manor, watched and reported to her. And if we did not pay, she would see to it, through this person, that we all lost our positions. Aye, that’s why we said nothing to ye, Lord Carmichael.” She dropped her head. “We thought to catch the culprit ourselves.” She admitted.

  “I see.” He sat, steepled his large fingers, elbows atop the desk and thought quietly for a moment. “Well, see to it that ye never mistrust your Laird again.”

  “Ah, James. Come meet your accusers.” He waited while James gave wide space and walked meekly to the front of the crowded room.

  A sense of stunned dismay passed through the people.

  “Here stands your man. What say all of you that we do with him?”

  When a few moments passed, with only whispers, “Well speak up.” Lord Carmichael stood. “What say you?” He asked again more forcefully.

  A small voice came from the back. “I say we should let Mr. Sinclair continue to work and pay us back.”
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  Others began to speak now. “Let him work off his debt in the fields.”…”Pay us back double what he stole.”…“I say we send him to the gallows.” The latter raised the Laird’s eyebrows.

  Quickly, he lifted his large hands and quieted the group. “We’re a peaceable people in this clan. It does no good to hold grudges for centuries, let alone generation upon generation. Ye have all experienced the hatred that has passed from father to son and seen the results of it for far too many years. We are proud Scots and well you know it. But as long as I am Laird of this clan, we will seek peace among our brothers.”

  The people quieted and began to nod amongst themselves.

  “Would the one who suggested we allow Mr. Sinclair to work and pay back the dues, please step forward.”

  A small young girl, hardly out of her braids, face red as an apple, made her way forward but did not come away from the crowd.

  “And where might you hail from?” Lord Carmichael softened his hearty voice and waited patiently for the girl-child to speak.

  “From the McDougals.” She said while two or three hissed loudly, until the Laird’s sharp green-eyed gaze quieted them.

  “Speak your mind, lass.”

  “I have seen my mother and father fight until their deaths because they hated the Muldoons. I wish to end my sorrow and that of others, that is why I came to be with you Lord Carmichael…because of your kindness.” She ended on a whisper.

  Humbled by the soft words of the waif, Lord Carmichael declared. “It shall be as you say.”

  The wee one’s face turned even redder, if that were possible; but he would not let her step back. “Wait…what say you about the man? Shall he work and every pence be given back or should he work and keep some for himself?” She looked around, thinking the Laird was speaking to someone older than she.

  “It is you I address.” He nodded.

  “Sir, if you would allow the man to work and pay some back each time he is paid, then it would not harm him and he would be the better man for it…if his soul is good.” She added.

  “Then let it be done as you have declared. And you are called?”