The Gentleman and the Thief (The Dread Penny Society #2) - Sarah M. Eden Page 0,83
answer popped into her mind.
“You’re trying to escape, ain’t ya?”
For all her skill sneaking about, Ana hadn’t developed a knack for lying. She stood there, silent.
“If I got you out, would you help the rest of us escape?” The woman’s expression turned pleading. “Most of us ain’t here ’cause we want to be. We cain’t get away. We need help.”
Brogan had mentioned Hollis’s suspicion that the staff was being mistreated. He’d mentioned the housekeeper in particular. This housekeeper.
Ana knew dropping her role was dangerous, but she had already been discovered. And the woman before her was every bit as imprisoned as Very Merry had been. How could she say no?
“If all goes well,” Ana said, “I can help. But I ain’t in a position to tell you how.”
“I have children. I cain’t bear for them to live out their lives like this.”
“I’ll send help,” Ana vowed, slipping past her. “But I cain’t do anything if I don’t get out o’ here m’self.”
“I can get you out.” The housekeeper assumed a strong and unbowed posture, walking beside Ana toward the servants’ stairs and then down into the belowstairs realm where the housekeeper reigned supreme.
“What’s your name?” Ana asked quietly.
“Serena.”
Ana would remember that, and she would find a means of helping the woman and her children escape this imprisonment. Somehow, she would.
They moved toward the garden door, the same one Ana had used to get inside. She was nearly out when a mountain of a man appeared in the doorway, blocking most of the light spilling in. The housekeeper stopped on the spot. She watched this new arrival closely, wide-eyed, worried.
“Who’s ’is?” The man’s gravelly voice echoed with angry authority.
“A new maid.” Serena’s worry quavered in her voice. “I’m trainin’ her. It’s her first day.”
Ana dipped a curtsey, mimicking the awkward but earnest efforts of inexperienced servants. She kept her gaze lowered enough to be deferent but not so much that she couldn’t watch the encounter.
“She’s a pretty ’un,” the man said. “Wasted as a maid, she is.”
“I think she’ll do well here,” Serena insisted. “The genn’elmen’ll enjoy seein’ a pretty face bringin’ ’em their victuals and drinks.”
The man studied Ana too closely for her comfort. Serena was shaking beside her, though she was doing a commendable job of hiding it.
“Pretty enough, I suppose.” The man’s tar-black whiskers twitched with a sneer. “Dressed as drab as a moth, though.”
“Clothes can be changed,” Serena said.
“Take ’er up to the dressing room,” the man said. “Find something better.”
Serena bobbed a curtsey. Ana did as well. For the first time, she was afforded a good look at the man’s hands. He had all his fingers. Very Merry had warned her the man behind this operation was not Four-Finger Mike as Hollis had assumed. And this very much appeared to be the person in charge: the infamous, dangerous, deadly Mastiff.
Ana was in a world of trouble.
by Lafayette Jones
Chapter V
The day of the Spirit Trials arrived cold and cloudy, but the school was in bright spirits. Spirit Trials were the highlight of the entire term.
Ace and his crew entered the cricket pitch with a great deal of swagger—Ace in front, Pudding directly behind him, with Bathwater and Snout on either side. The other First Form teams were assuming their places, but none with quite so much confidence.
Pudding pointed to the seats where the staff sat. “Which one of them is Higglebottom?”
Ace shrugged. “Couldn’t say.”
“You don’t know?”
“No one knows. Might not be any of them. He runs the school, but no one sees him or knows who he is.”
Pudding gave him a look thick with doubt. “The teachers and staff must know.”
Ace shrugged. “If they do, none of them will say so.” The identity of Higglebottom was one of the afterlife’s great mysteries.
“And that doesn’t bother anyone?” Pudding was clearly having trouble accepting this.
“It is what it is,” Ace said, repeating a phrase he’d heard more times than he could count during his own time as a Perishable. “School runs smoothly. The big decisions go over well. No use restringing a fiddle that plays in tune.”
Pudding eyed the gathered staff through most of the welcome speech given by Professor Rattlebag as well as the instructions from Professor Dankworth. Ace was grateful Pudding’s event would be last or else he might have been too distracted to even take part.
Artful Dodging was first. Ace slapped Snout on the back, managing to send his hand all the way through him.
He grimaced, knowing all too well how unnerving that sensation was. “Apologies.”