Westgate Manor

Chapter 5

“Carrot!”

Startled awake, Abigail ‘s eyes popped open to find Iona’s thin lips, once again, pursed into a disapproving frown.

“You are drooling all over your aunt!”

Instantly sitting up, Abigail looked into the humor-filled eyes of her aunt Beatrice. “I-I am sorry, Aunt.”

Aunt Beatrice smiled, “It’s perfectly fine dear. We were all quite exhausted, weren’t we?” Glancing at Iona, she continued. “I informed your cousin that it was quite alright, I don’t mind a bit of drool,” she chuckled. “But now you are awake and we have much to do, my dear.”

“Yes,” Abigail mumbled in reply.

At present, they were traveling through Kent to her aunt’s former abode. After stopping overnight at an Inn along the way, the trio had continued their journey early that morning; now it was evening again and Abigail was exhausted.

 Her eyes flicked to the small wet stain on her aunt’s shoulder, and her face immediately flushed with embarrassment before turning her attention to the carriage window.

The carriage stopped directly in front of her aunt’s residence. The three women carried their luggage inside, though Abigail couldn’t help but pause on the steps leading inside and look about the town. It was amazing, the stark contrast between the calm country home they now resided in, and this place in the heart of the city.

Turning, Abigail headed up the narrow staircase to her former bedroom.

“Do not unpack all of your belongings, Carrot,” Iona called from the bottom floor. “We only have this one night to stay here before the new tenants make their own preparations to move in.”

Abigail nodded, pausing when she heard Iona, once more.

“And be sure to keep everything exactly as you found it…as clean as you found it, for the new tenants.”

Sighing, Abigail walked inside the room and set her bag on the foot of the bed. Was she a child? What did Iona expect that she would do? Jump on the bed perhaps? Leave her clothes scattered about?

Removing her hat, she sat on the bed and slid the paper that was secured by a single pin from the inside of it, grazing her fingers over the ink-blotched lettering.

To Be Delivered to: Greyson Simmons

In the care of: St. George’s Boys School

The folded, tattered paper wasn’t sealed. The urge to open it and discover its contents was strong…yet it wasn’t addressed to her…so to do so would be wrong. Wouldn’t it?

On the other hand, how was she to find the would-be recipient if she did not know the contents? Perhaps the contents had more clues as to the identity of the person it was to be sent to.

Pushing past her reluctance she glanced over her shoulder at the closed door, slid to the floor on the opposite side of the bed, and quickly unfolded the paper.

To her surprise, the words she thought would be written on the paper weren’t there.

“A map,” she whispered, her eyes roaming the paper. The map was of Lochaber, an area in Scotland.  A small “x” was marked in a body of water near the area.

Tilting her head, she stared at the marking, and then blankly stared at the wood planked floor she sat upon. Was this what she thought it was? It seemed impossible, unbelievable…but what else could it be?

Her bedroom door swung open. “Carrot?”

Quickly refolding the paper, she tucked it under her mattress before lifting her head up from hiding.

Iona’s eyes narrowed on her. “What were you doing? Why are you on the floor?!”

“I…I..”

“Yes?” she impatiently urged, clapping twice in succession. “Out with it.”

“I...I was praying.”

“Praying?” Iona asked, doubtfully.

“Yes, I…yes I was,” she calmly reiterated.

“Hmm. Well, we are about to dine, so come downstairs at once.”

Standing up, Abigail dutifully followed Iona down the stairs.

            “Did Iona tell you the news, dear?”

            Abigail took a seat in the chair next to her aunt’s, and stabbed a piece of boiled potato. “What news, aunt?” she asked, taking a bite.

            “We have received an invite to the Smythe’s party tonight,” she informed her niece, smiling at her.

            “I do not think it wise that we go,” Iona chimed in. “We have things to pack, and we need to be on our way home by tomorrow.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, one cannot always do what is wise Iona. It’s time you learn that.”

            Iona pursed her lips and frowned at her, before switching her piercing gaze onto Abigail.

            When she saw that her cousin had a blank expression, she decided that she must have imagined the small chuckle that reached her ears. Yes, Abigail was a mouse; she had to have imagined it.

            “Would you like to go dear? If we do, it means we must stay up later than usual to pack what is left, here.”

            Abigail nodded. “I would like to go, very much.” She could do with a small diversion. Presently, her mind would not stop racing.

            “Then it’s settled,” Beatrice said, with a firm nod. “We will leave after dinner.”

            Smiling, Abigail across the table at her cousin, and then quickly glanced away from the fierce disapproval in her features. Dinner continued in thick silence, before Abigail excused herself to find something to wear for the party. With luck, she would have a nice, relaxing evening, and her troubles would be forgotten.