Corner of the Housetop: Buried Secrets (30 page)

BOOK: Corner of the Housetop: Buried Secrets
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Do I like it here?
he wondered to himself. He sighed, suddenly tired.
I can't wait to leave this place. I don't know where I'll go, but it'll be somewhere as far from here as I can get. Maybe I should go to the city. Richmond can't be too far away. I'm sure there must be something there I could do to make a living.

Derek shook his head at himself.
Idleness really does foster discontent,
he mused. He climbed down the ladder to get the broom. While he was waiting for Mr. Smithfield he could at least sweep up some of the loft; the breeze through the cracks in the wall boards had been spreading hay across the floor in small drifts all week. It was a mess.

When Derek finished sweeping the loft and raking and cleaning Blueberry's stall, he hooked the lead to Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth's bridle and led her out to the corral.

"In you get, old lady," he ordered. Once she was inside, Derek closed and latched the gate. Resting his elbows on the fence, he stood there for several minutes, watching the mare trot happily to her favorite grazing spot on the other side of the corral and begin eating lazily. A cool, clean breeze swept over the field. Derek breathed in deeply, the scent and feel of early summer filling his lungs until he thought they would burst. After a second, he let the breath out slowly then looked around. The sky was bright and the trees seemed greener than they had in a long time.

No humidity,
he thought.
The air's not hazy out here anymore.

Just as he was turning to go back to the stables to clean out Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth's stall, Mr. Smithfield and Blueberry galloped out of the woods. They crossed the field quickly and Mr. Smithfield halted Blueberry beside the corral.

"Did you have a good ride?" Derek asked, holding the bridle while Mr. Smithfield dismounted.

"Yes, it was very nice. The forests around here are beautiful." Petting the horse, Mr. Smithfield added, "We even found an interesting little place back on the other side of the river."

"Really? I didn't think any of the trails crossed the river," Derek commented.

"I'm not actually sure it
was
a trail," Mr. Smithfield confessed with a sheepish smile. "I think we may have been a bit lost."

"I'm glad you found your way back, then."

"I am, too."

Derek led Blueberry to the corral gate and opened it. He led him in and hauled the saddle and blanket off his back. He threw the saddle over the fence before walking back out of the gate and latching it. Derek heaved up the saddle and blanket and started to walk back to the stables.

Mr. Smithfield fell in step beside him. "Would you like help?"

"No, thank you," he grunted, shifting the weight. Rethinking, he said, "Unless you'd like to take the blanket. I think it's slipping."

Taking it from Derek, careful not to disrupt the heavy load too much, he asked, "Did you have a good afternoon?"

A little startled at being asked, Derek asked, "Me? Oh, um, yes, sir. I just cleaned up a little."

"Are you usually very busy?"

"Not too much so now." Not wanting to explain that his banishment from the main house had earned him quite a bit of free time, Derek changed the subject. "You're leaving soon, aren't you, sir?"

Mr. Smithfield nodded. "Friday morning. I need to be home for work by Monday."

"Oh." Derek was quiet for a second as he and Mr. Smithfield walked into the shade of the stables. He set the saddle down on the hay bales by the door and took the blanket from Mr. Smithfield. Shifting the blanket from one hand to the other, he said, "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Does the fact that you're leaving mean Miss Catherine is getting better?"

His breath caught for a moment before Mr. Smithfield said in a measured tone, "She's very sick, Derek."

"Oh."

"She says she's feeling better though."

"That's good. I hope she gets well quickly."

Several seconds of heavy silence followed before Mr. Smithfield said softly, "Thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of the horses. They seem very happy."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You're welcome."

"I may go out again tomorrow. Take advantage of being here as much as I can before we leave."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Smithfield smiled and nodded once, then left.

Derek took the blanket down and hung it on the rack, then returned to take care of the saddle. When everything had been put away, he took the rake and started cleaning Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth's stall. Once the stall was raked and fresh hay laid down, Derek went out to the corral.

"All right, you two. Time to go in and get some dinner."

Blueberry trotted over to the gate as if he understood, but Lady Sarah Mary-Ruth, as she had grown accustomed to doing, sauntered back to her grazing spot and glared at Derek, challenging him to try and make her go.

Derek opened the gate and took Blueberry's bridle. "Suit yourself," he called to the mare. "I'm not chasing you."

Blueberry seemed very happy at the idea of going inside. He clopped towards the stables with his head held high.

"Hungry? You've had a long day." Derek thought a moment. "Come to think of it, I'm sort of hungry myself. Wonder where Devon is with the food. He should have brought lunch hours ago. It's almost dinner."

Derek poured oats into Blueberry's trough, then walked out to the knoll and looked down the slope. He couldn't see Devon anywhere, and the carriage house door was closed. After a short debate as to whether or not it would be worth it to get in trouble for being at the house when he shouldn't have been, Derek started down the hill. He was hungry enough to put up with a little lecturing, and, if he was going to be completely honest with himself, he was a little worried about Devon. The man didn't usually want anything to do with the main house, let alone spend the entire afternoon there.

When he reached the dusty drive, Derek strolled up to the carriage house. Upon discovering everything to be where it was suppose to, he crept up the stairs to the side door. He put his ear to the door and, hearing no one in the hall, slowly pushed it open. Stepping carefully, he slipped down the kitchen stairs as quietly as he could. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he started to let out the breath he'd been holding, but stopped.

Gabriel was sitting at the table with a bowl of strawberries in milk.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Me?" Gabriel asked, putting his spoon down and glancing at the bowl guiltily. "Nothing. What about you? You're not even supposed to be in the house."

"What's it matter to you what I'm supposed to do?" Derek walked farther into the kitchen, looking around for the basket Beth always put the food in.

"Mother said if I saw you inside I was suppose to tell her," Gabriel replied almost apologetically.

"So tell her," Derek sneered, not believing the other boy actually would.

"Derek, just leave before you get in trouble."

Derek snorted. "Why do you suddenly care so much?"

Sounding as if he were trying to reason with an impudent child, Gabriel explained in an exasperated tone, "It upsets Mother, and that upsets the whole household."

Glaring, Derek retorted, "Then don't tell her. Besides, I'm just here for me and Devon's dinner."

"He knows better than to send you for it."

For the first time, Derek thought Gabriel might just be serious about having to tell Mrs. Worthington he'd seen him. Annoyed, he snapped, "He didn't send me for it. I haven't seen him all day, and, quite frankly, I'm getting sick of waiting to eat." Finally spotting the basket with its blue towel tucked over the top of its contents, Derek said, "See? Now I'm leaving. No harm."

"I suppose I can pretend I didn't see you," Gabriel said reluctantly.

Derek smiled a little."And if anyone asks, I didn't see you stealing the strawberries."

Gabriel's pale cheeks reddened.

Taking the basket, Derek started back up the stairs but stopped when he heard voices in the hall.

"It's unacceptable!" Mrs. Worthington was saying in a harsh whisper.

In a hesitant voice, Beth responded, "You could call Derek up to fix it, Missus."

"No! I promised Mrs. Smithfield I would not have that boy in the house again as long as her poor Catherine was ill, and I will not! If Devon has not found it, he'll just have to look harder."

"He says the attic is all jumbled up, Missus," Beth pleaded.

"Well, then he will just have to un-jumble it!" she stated tersely.

She had him in the attic all day?
Derek thought.
Poor old guy...

The sound of her boot heels clicking furiously down the stone hall echoed in the stairwell where Derek still stood, his back pressed to the wall, his lungs burning in protest of his held breath. When he was sure she was gone, Derek let out his breath.

As Beth turned down the stairs, she jumped and yelled, obviously not expecting to see anyone in front of her.

"What is all the racket?" Mrs. Worthington cried in exasperation.

Derek looked up at Beth pleadingly and put his finger in front of his lips. "Shh!"

Beth glared at him for a moment, then looked down the hall. "I-I'm sorry, Missus. There- There was a mouse on the stair. It startled me."

"A mouse?"

"Y-yes, 'am. I just didn't expect to see it," she answered, glaring at Derek for a second before turning back to look apologetically at Mrs. Worthington.

"Well, see to it that you're not startled again. There are people trying to rest."

"Yes, Missus Worthington. I'm sorry, ma'am." Beth stepped into the stairwell and pushed Derek back down into the kitchen. "Derek!" She spotted Gabriel, who, in the process of trying to hide his bowl, spilled milk on the floor and himself. "Gabriel! You two!"

"I'm sorry. I just came here to get dinner since Devon didn't even come back with lunch yet," Derek defended, holding up the covered basket as evidence.

"I only wanted a small snack before supper," Gabriel said when Derek had finished. "I didn't think anyone would mind."

"Didn't think anyone would notice, is what you mean!" She rounded on Derek. "And you! I could get in serious trouble for knowing you were here, and not telling Missus Worthington! Out of here, both of you!"

Gabriel scooted by Beth and Derek followed him.

"Check the hall for me," Derek whispered.

"Now I'm covering for him," Gabriel groaned, jogging up the stairs. "She'll whip me for sure if she finds out."

"Finds out what?"

Gabriel stopped dead, then lurched forward and fell on his hands and knees as Derek bumped into him.

Looking past the other boy, Derek felt his insides turn to ice.

Mrs. Worthington was standing at the top of the stairs, glaring down at Gabriel, who had milk down the front of his shirt. When her gaze flicked to Derek, her eyes bulged and she took a deep breath, puffing herself up like a majestic bullfrog.

"You!" she breathed out in an angry hiss.

Derek groaned.

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