Thedra

“H-h-help,” my voice comes out in a croaking whisper. “Someone… please…”

No one answers.

I strike the door with the trowel but it skates off the wood and clatters to the floor. Desperately I sink to my knees to reclaim it, but it takes me a full minute to find it in the dark. When I finally do, I no longer have the strength to rise.

This is it, I realize, too exhausted to feel a proper sense of desperation. Right now, all I really want is to curl up on myself and fall asleep.

What’s the point in trying anymore? No one’s coming for me. Probably no one will even miss me. They’ll only grumble when they find my body, complain how they have to carry it out and dig a hole in the frozen earth. Even in death, I will be a burden.

Then I think of the silk carnation, and the way Mr. Bentham smiled at me this morning leaned against his shovel, and my breath comes in a ragged sob.

He wouldn’t miss me, would he? That great, powerful man? Surely the loss of a single servant would be well beneath his notice.

Then I remember how kind he is. How he went so far out of his way to care for me when I was sick, and even help me with my chores.

Yes, Mr. Bentham is kind. And he would be sad to know I’d died in such a way. I won’t pretend I’m so far beneath his notice when he’s already done so much for me. There’s no way he wouldn’t be sad.

Mustering all my strength I crawl along the floor, outstretching my arm to tap the door with the trowel. I no longer have any foolish hopes of breaking through, but if I can just make a little noise, perhaps there is still one person out there who might hear me.

I have to hope. I can’t give up. For Mr. Bentham’s sake.

Roderick

It’s five o’clock and most of the servants are packed up to leave. They mill about the front hall, awaiting a couple of carriages that should be here any minute to take them to the nearby town where they’ll spend the holiday with their loved ones. But not all of them are leaving.

When I asked Evelyn this morning for a list of those who would be staying behind, I was delighted to find Thedra’s name on it. Is it too much for me to hope she and I might get a little closer over the next week in this more intimate setting? Probably. If I know Thedra, with so many servants gone, rather than take it easy, she’ll only feel the responsibility to work harder.

Thedra. Already I miss her figure. I stand at the top of the stairwell hoping to catch a glimpse of it, but of course she is not amongst this group of merry revelers.

I want to see her.

Perhaps I will run into her at dinner. I could even request her to serve my meal. Yes, I think, liking the idea very much. I should go tell Evelyn— no Mrs. Agate. Evelyn is leaving with the rest of them. I see her there, standing at the front of the foyer, eyes fixed straight ahead with a carpet bag at her feet, cane firmly in her grasp.

Forgetting about her, I make my way to the kitchen, keenly aware that at any moment Thedra might step out of one of these rooms and come face to face with me. A happy thought, but of course I’m not so lucky.

“Goodness!” Mrs. Agate exclaims when I poke my head in the kitchen. “What on earth— I mean,” she clears her throat and corrects her tone, “What brings you here, Mr. Bentham?”

“I came to see what was for dinner.”

“Rack of lamb,” she says, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Mashed potatoes with gravy, roast vegetables, sautéed mushrooms.”

“It smells delicious,” I say, and it’s no lie. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well it’s another forty minutes at least before it comes out of the oven, so you’ll just have to wait. The king himself couldn’t make this meat cook any faster— not if he wanted it tender.”

 “I’ll wait gladly, only—” I stop to glance around surreptitiously, checking there’s no one around to hear.

“Only what, Mr. Bentham?”

“Can you see to it Thedra serves me at dinner tonight?” I ask, feeling a faint blush creep into my cheeks. Mrs. Agate observes it with a knowing smirk and I find myself blushing even harder.

“I can arrange that. If I can find the girl,” she adds with a frown. “I haven’t seen her for hours, not since she disappeared out the back door with Evelyn hot on her heels.”

I don’t know why, but this casual remark fires up a warning signal in my brain.

“She’s still outside?”

“As far as I know, Sir, though I couldn’t tell you what she’s doing. Shoveling the driveway, I suppose.”

But she’s not shoveling the driveway. We shoveled it only this morning, and we’ve had no snow since then. So what on earth has she been doing outside all this time?

“Mr. Bentham?” she calls after me as I head to the door. “You needn’t look so alarmed— in all likelihood I just missed her coming back inside.”

“I won’t feel at ease until I’ve seen her with my own eyes. If I’m not back in five minutes, Mrs. Agate, organize a search.”

“Yes, Sir,” she calls after me, bewildered as I burst out into the cold December air.

My mind is spinning, I’m frantic with worry. Perhaps I’m being paranoid, but I just can’t shake this growing sense in my gut that something is very, very wrong.

The snow is littered with tracks going every direction. I can’t hope to follow her that way. Instead I start checking every possible hiding place near the house I can think of. The woodshed is empty, the stable houses only my horses, safely wrapped in blankets and munching their oats.

I’m making my way to check the well house when I hear it over the freezing winter wind; a faint, desperate tapping. 

“Thedra?”

I look around with increasing alarm, trying to pinpoint the sound. Is it coming from the garden shed? I start to run.

“Thedra!”

I reach the shed and throw open the door. Faint house lights reflect in the snow, lending just enough light to see a fallen figure clothed in humble black skirts. In her hands she grips a trowel, and her face when she turns it up to me is weary and blue. Her lips move but no sound comes out. Her eyelids flutter shut.

My heart seizes with relief and horror in the same instant. I bend to retrieve her, pulling her frozen form against my chest, mind reeling.

It’s just like it happened then, when I found her sick in her freezing room, I think as I run with her back to the house. Except this time she’s even colder.

I must hurry; even now it may be too late. But I swear on all that I am I will punish the one that did this.

Evelyn Murdock will pay with her life!