Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society, Book Three) Rough Draft

Chapter Five

Over the course of the next two days, I took every free moment to go down to the office. Every time, though, there was something that kept me from even touching the door. Once it was a maid, scurrying to get her work done. Another time it was the steward, staring at me with suspicion in his eyes.

If I had some idea of the routine he kept, it would be easier to get around him. Surely he must inspect the tenant farms or be required to go out to solve problems. What steward remained exclusively in an office?

At the same time, the Dowager made her presence felt in every corner of the house. She had demands for activities and games for the house party. To appease her, footmen were sent to the attics every few hours on a search for equipment for said games. Equipment which then needed to be taken out to be dusted and cleaned.

Acceptances began to arrive soon after. It seemed an invitation to Clarendon was not one people would refuse, no matter how sudden it arrived. All bedrooms would be taken, and the neighbors who would join the party during the day had also sent word that they would be delighted to attend.

Mrs. Horner set the maids to cleaning every inch of the house. At any hour, I would come across someone hard at work in the hallway or carrying clean linen to a bedroom. This made it impossible to search out information in Sir horace's office, even when I knew Mr. Stone had been called out.

The Dowager decided that the occasion demanded a new gown, while Lady Leith instructed me to simply make over several of the gowns already in her wardrobe. I expected I would be able to think while I sat with needle and thread in my hand, but such was not the case.

Lady Leith had said she would rely on my discretion to alter the gowns. There is a great difference between removing an abundance of lace and bows to being in charge of altering a gown's appearance, thus my preoccupation.

In that time, I composed my thoughts enough to write back to Aunt Beth. I thanked her for warning me about Uncle Frederick's return, made no mention of his plan to find me a husband among his circle of friends, and told her that Clarendon House reminded me of home. Neutral enough not to alarm her and close enough to the truth that I did not feel bad writing it.

My half day arrived, and as soon as Lady Leith dismissed me, I went straight to the hallway containing Sir Horace's office. No one was in sight as I approached the door. I held my breath and my heart beat faster as I reached my hand for the doorknob.

It refused to budge.

"Odd," I said with a frown. Why was the door locked? Didn't the steward go in and out every day? Wouldn't it have been simpler to leave the door unlocked? Was something important kept inside?

Frustrated that I had made no progress, I slipped down the back staircase and then went out into the sun. A summer breeze lightly brushed my face and I breathed in the scent of grass and blooming flowers.

With nothing and no one to stop me, I set out for the hedge maze. At least there was a puzzle I could look into that didn't have some importance attached to it.

I let my fingers trail along the branches of the thick bushes as I walked around it. It had obviously been there for some time as the hedge was over my head. Once someone entered, they would not be able to look over the bushes to the center as a way to cheat the maze. There was no gardener in sight, so I couldn't ask whether there was a map of the maze or not. While I could have entered and found my way by trial and error, I decided to prowl around the outside to get an idea of how big it was.

I'd been walking for at least ten minutes when I saw a tall, slender man. It took a moment for me to recognize young Mr. Leith. He wore no jacket over his white shirt sleeves, and it didn't appear that he had a cravat tied around his neck. There was a sketchbook in his hand, hinting at his Sunday afternoon's occupation.