Chapter 2 (Part Two)

Henry’s New Assignment!?

The Alistair Duchy

Cottage of Henry and Lyra Dorran

Henry’s POV

~DAY TWO~

Anger

“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”

My eyes blinked open.

The wooden beams of our cozy cottage barely visible in the dim morning light.

My lips couldn’t help but curl up as the events of last night made their way back to me.

I inched my way to her side of the bed pulling her into a tight hug.

As soon as she turned her head to face me, I placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“COCK-A-DOOLE-DOO!-”

“Oh, no! I’ve lingered too long! Jack’ll have my head,” I said playfully, releasing her giggling form and rolling off the bed.

I shuffled around the tiny dark room for my livery. In the same place it had always been and dressed myself for the day.

Walking over to the door, I opened it with a sigh. Glancing behind me, I met her eyes.

It caused me to stop in my tracks.

“Have a good day, Henry,” She said sleepily, before lying back down.

I smiled.

Beautiful. 

Humming softly, I let the door close with a soft clack.

Without fail, my good friend, Jack, watched me approach from his throne. His feathered cape glistened in the early light.

“We're met with another brisk morning, Your Grace,” I said with a smile, giving Jack the usual formal bow before setting off towards the Alistair Estate.

Like every morning, the dawn was just as breathtaking as the day before.

Dew-drenched grass glistening like diamonds under the rays of dawn’s early light.

I smiled broadly and walked down the dirt path to the road.

Not a day has passed that I’ve not had a jump in my step, today will be no different.

I arrived at the Alistair Estate exactly on time, like always, shuffling in through the servants’ entrance.

Only today, I made my way to Mr. Abrahams’ office.

Standing at the door, I brushed away the non-existent dust on my livery, before bringing my fist to his door with a sturdy knock.

“Come in,” A voice called.

I entered the room and immediately adopted the footman’s posture of watchful stillness.

Mr. Abrams gestured for me to sit, a look of content on his face.

“I’ll take this to mean, you’ve accepted the assignment?” He asked, leaning forward, extending a thin folder and fountain pen.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, accepting the items.

I began to read the document.

It was an employment contract, similar to the one I’d signed before starting with the Alistairs.

Only this one held a different title, significantly different pay, and the opportunity to go and work in the main estate upon the Duke's daughter's return.

I slowly read it over, and scritched my name at the bottom of the page, before handing the document back.

“Now then, please listen as I will relay your new duties,” Mr. Abarham said, before clearing his throat.

“You will now be acting as footman and coachman for Lady Isadora Alistair. After this meeting you will be provided a fresh livery, befitting your position. As you perform your duties, you are expected to act with the utmost discretion and perfection.” He said, his voice stern.

“You will be responsible for carrying the coal and wood, laying the fire, and keeping it burning throughout the day in Lady Isadora’s bedroom and any additional place she may commune on this estate. You are responsible for rearranging and replacing any furniture in the lady’s lodgings, as well as carrying messages and running errands within and outside of the estate. All letters must go through myself prior to being sent to post,”

I nodded, taking mental notes.

“You will receive a list of approved visitors that will need to be screened prior to an audience. In addition, you will escort and announce all guests and dismiss them as needed. Do you have any questions thus far, Mr. Dorran?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“You will serve as a carriage attendant, escorting the Lady on all outings along with her knight and personal maid. You will be in charge of coordinating the usage of the estates’ carriages.” He said, before glancing at his wristwatch.

“Lastly, you will be responsible for bringing all meals. This is inclusive of the early morning tray, breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. You will coordinate with the personal maid and chef about meal times, snacks, and dietary preferences. You will meet with me every morning, as I shall be providing you with poison test strips. You must use them before each meal is delivered. You will give a detailed report each day and return all unused strips to be discarded. Is that clear?” He asked.

My eyes widened, the weight of the situation drawing on me.

“Yes, Sir.” I said, with a stiff nod.

“Through those doors you’ll find a changing room and your new livery, please dress swiftly and return here,” He ordered, turning his attention back to his paperwork.

I stood and made my way through the doors.

So this was the head butler’s personal changing quarters?

I looked around at the neatly hung clothing, rows of shoes and accessories that were tidily and meticulously placed before quickly getting changed.

This is it.

The fine fabric felt soft against my skin.

I made my way back out to the office area.

“We will be going to the east wing of the estate. It is currently closed off for Lady Isadora’s private use. I will provide you with a list of names for staff allowed in that area. Under no circumstances is anyone outside of that list to enter the east wing.” He said, as he handed me a small note card of names and a small clear vial of white strips.

I shoved them deep into my pocket as he held the office door open for me to exit.

“Understood,” I replied, following his steady pace down the corridor. 

I had never been to this part of the estate before.

As we grew closer to our destination, I noticed that the east wing, while possessing a simple elegance of its own, was certainly smaller and less imposing than the rest of the estate.

It hardly seemed like appropriate housing for the heir apparent of the Alistair duchy…

We approached a single solid door made of rich wood. Mr. Abraham gave it two sturdy knocks.

A few moments past and the large door slowly opened to reveal a small-framed mousy-looking woman.

She had a round-ish face, wide brown eyes, and short dark brown hair pulled back into two tight pigtails. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that came down to her ankles accompanied by a white full-length apron.

I would have immediately assumed she was kind in nature, but her eyes remained narrowed at us…

Her stare was cold and calculating.

I couldn't help but shift uncomfortably.

“Good morning, Miss Nolte,” Mr. Abraham greeted, before turning to me.

“Henry, this is Miss Maisy Nolte, Lady Isadora’s personal maid. You will directly coordinate with her as you perform your duties,” He introduced, as her cold eyes shifted to me once more.

I shuddered.

“Mrs. Maisy, this is Henry Dorran, he has been assigned as the new footman and coachman for Lady Isadora,” He continued.

“Good morning, Miss Maisy. I look forward to providing my assistance,” I said bowing.

 “Good morning Mr. Abraham, Henry. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your haste is… greatly appreciated,” She said, pausing briefly.

I stopped myself from shuddering again, this woman had an eerie air about her that I just couldn’t place.

Her cold demeanor did not suit her sweet-looking face.

“I will leave you to it,” Mr. Abraham said before bowing and swiftly turning afoot.

I awkwardly looked over to Maisy for instruction.

She smiled and ushered me inside.

As I passed by I smelled the light scent of lavender oil emitting from her brown hair. Scented hair oil for a servant?

Strange.

I shook the thought off before looking around the empty vestibule, it was dead silent aside from the echo of my footsteps.

“Henry, I’d first like you to bring the breakfast. To the end of this hall you’ll find the servant stairs, if you take them all the way down, the kitchen will be on your right. The head chef has all of Lady Isadora’s dietary information that will be used for the duration of our stay. You only need to bring the meals at the requested times, which the chef will coordinate. When you return, please follow this corridor down toward the Lady’s bedroom. Her knight, Sir Ashborne will be posted outside, you can not miss it.” She said flatly, her hands crossed politely at her lower abdomen.

Upon realizing Maisy had no intention of adding anything else, I hurried off with a nod toward the staircase.

It was just as she said. The kitchen could be found immediately to the right of the bottom of the stairs.

The smell of fresh bread wafting through the air made my empty stomach stir with curiosity.

“-this bread is flat. F.L.A.T. Do you hear me, woman?” A man's voice rang out.

I stopped short in the doorway.

They seemed to be arguing in the kitchen…

How awkward.

“As flat as your head Mr. Murphy! What fool keeps dead yeast?” A loud woman boomed in retort.

“And yet not as flat as your arse. It’s good for fertillizer, you hear me!?”

“Oh! You old-”

I cleared my throat as I stepped into the warm kitchen.

They both paused, turning to stare at me.

He was holding up a jar of what I presumed to be... dead yeast, and she was holding up a… rolling pin.

“Who are you, then?” he asked, setting down the jar on the table with a thud, his round frame jiggled with his every move.

“Good morning, My name is Henry,” I said bowing slightly.

“Ah! The footman Mr. Abraham told us about,” She said, turning to me with a smile.

“Good morning, dear,” She said, placing her rolling pin back into an open drawer.

I nodded with a slight smile, shifting awkwardly.

“Right then, could I interest you in some flat bread?” He said, waving a loaf of bread toward me.

“Oh, hush, you idiot,” She said as she smacked him on the arm.

He rubbed his wound and walked over to a large pot on the fire. Pulling out a covered bowl that had been sitting in a water bath. He placed the bowl on the table and unveiled it.

It was porridge that smelled strongly of rhubarb.

“Grab the warm milk, Mrs. Murphy,” He instructed, as he sprinkled a half a handful of what looked like roasted hazelnuts on the dish before setting it atop a silver tray on the table. 

He certainly made a simple meal appear rather elegant.

I watched him adorn the dish with edible flowers, then place the steaming cup of milk on the tray like the last cherry atop an ice cream sundae.

I had been so engrossed in the process, I'd almost forgotten to use the test strips.

“Forgive me,” I apologized, fumbling for the vial and note card in my pocket.

“Not to worry dear,” Mrs. Murphy said, shrugging her shoulders.

“It’d be more suspicious if you didn’t, considering the situation,” Mr. Murphy said, turning his attention back to his work.

Mr. Abraham must've been through with his explanation to all the reassigned staff.

I pulled the small vial and note card from my pocket.

The card read a short list of names;

Family: 

Duke Issac Alistair  •  Duchess Beatrice Alistair  •  Lady Claudia Alistair

Personal attendants: 

Maisy Nolte - maid  •  Sir Alaric Ashborne - knight

East wing attendants: 

Eldred Abraham - head butler  •  Ronald Murphy - head chef

Mildred Murphy - baker  •  Henry Dorran - footman

Anita Tillman - house maid  •  Shelby Berger - dairy maid

Below the 11 names were brief instructions on how to use the poison test strips;

‘Submerge and fully saturate the white test strip. Let stand for 10 seconds. A negative strip will remain white, while a positive strip will turn red.’ 

Well, that was certainly simple enough.

I popped off the viless cork and fished out two strips with my fingertips. Wasting no time submerging one in the porridge and one in the milk.

10 seconds had come and passed and the strips remained white. 

This is safe for Lady Isadora to eat.

I quickly disposed of the used strips and shoved the vial and note card back in my pocket before giving the chef a quick nod of thanks.

“Make sure to come back at lunch time to meet everyone, dear,” Mrs. Murphy called after me as I made my way up the stairs with the tray.

Following Maisy’s instructions, I walked down the corridor, but I didn't see any knight.

I continued forward approaching a slightly ajar door.

I froze as a scream erupted from within the room. 

“I won't forgive you for this- LET GO OF ME!” A voice I had not heard before, but could only assume was Lady Isadora, yelled through the door.

“You sick perverted fucks won’t get away with this, I'll make sure you rot in hell for what you did to me,” Her voice was low and threatening.

This… was wrong.

Every fiber in my being was telling me something was not right here, but I couldn't find the courage to move my body.

I was paralyzed with a fear I'd never quite experienced before.

My hands clenched the sides of the tray so hard, my fingers had turned white.

I was– I was actually shaking. I looked down as the dishes rattled lightly atop the tray.

“Please restrain her,” I heard Maisy order, before exiting the room and turning to face me.

Her empty brown eyes stared coldly as I struggled to form words.

Had she… known I was here the whole time?

“Henry, it won't do if you don't announce yourself. The food is bound to get cold,” She corrected, in such a nonchalant manner.

As if she hadn't just ordered her Lady to be restrained.

She reached out and took the tray from me, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Please bring the coal up and leave it with Sir Ashborne. You won't be needed again until lunch hour. Oh, and do bring the afternoon tea at that time as well,” She instructed flatly with an unreadable expression, as she retreated back into the bedroom.

The door shut softly with a clack.

I hadn't realized it but the hairs on the back of my neck had been standing straight up.

I don't know what it is, but something is not right with that woman.

Just why did they need to restrain her?

I suddenly found myself rushing down the corridor, then flying down the stairs two at a time.

Gasping, I stood in the hallway in front of the kitchen door. My hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath.

“Henry, dear, are you alright? Why are you out here?” Mrs. Murphy asked as she passed the doorway.

“I assure you, I'm quite alright Mrs. Murphy. Could I trouble you with the location of the storeroom?” I asked, straightening up and clearing my throat.

“That will be the room directly next to this one, convenient isn't it?” She asked, slight concern flashing in her eyes.

“Quite,” I said with a quick bow, before excusing myself.

I could feel her staring after me, I ignored it.

Whatever hellish situation I've found myself in, I must deal with it now.

By any means necessary.

I opened up a wooden door to a room half the size of the kitchen. It contained all the supplies I needed, organized and readily within view.

I grabbed a wooden bucket from the shelf and placed it on the floor. There was a rusty metal shovel hanging by a hook on the wall.

I took hold of it and began shoveling. Once I finished, I headed back, closing the storeroom door behind me.

Although I was not looking forward to what I would hear, or see back upstairs for that matter, I had a duty to fulfill.

It wouldn't do to act this unprofessionally.

I took a deep breath and made my way back to Lady Isadora’s chamber.