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Chapter 20
The Flanagan estate had grown noisy in many ways due to the new winds brought by Eugenia.
The adults of the house, their nerves on edge, frequently took out their frustration on the servants—and Edward and Thomas were especially bad.
That morning, Mrs. Pierce had gathered the maids and was giving instructions for the day when suddenly, with a loud crash, Thomas burst into the room.
“Who did it?”
Everyone was so startled by his sudden intrusion that they couldn’t say a word. In Thomas’s hand was a single leather glove. He waved it at the maids and shouted furiously.
“Who touched my glove?”
The maids, having no idea what he was talking about, only stared blankly at one another. When none of them answered, Thomas stamped his foot in rage.
“I left a pair of gloves by my bedside last night, and this morning only one was there! Who was it? Who stole it? To think there’s a maid with such filthy habits in this house—it’s a disgrace to the Flanagan family! I’ll have every room searched, so you’d better be ready!”
Then, without warning, he slapped the nearest maid across the face with the glove.
“Was it you? Did you do it?”
“It’s not certain that someone stole it.”
At the sudden voice cutting in, everyone in the room turned in the same direction.
Toward me.
The words had slipped out before I could stop them, anger rising at Thomas’s behavior. Now that all eyes were on me, I felt embarrassed—but there was no taking it back.
Thomas looked incredulous for a moment, then strode up to me, glaring.
“And who are you? What do you know to butt in?”
“If someone wanted to steal it, they wouldn’t have taken just one glove.”
His twisted expression made me nervous, but I pressed on anyway.
“This isn’t like losing a single earring. In that case, you could remove the gem and sell it, so stealing just one might make sense. But a glove—even if it’s made of fine leather—has no use by itself. It can’t be sold, and it can’t be worn. So the other glove must have simply fallen somewhere nearby.”
“Shut up! How dare you talk back?”
Thomas shouted so loudly that I flinched and took a step back. I braced myself, half expecting him to strike me.
“A mere maid—how dare you! This is a sign this house is going to ruin!”
Fortunately, instead of hitting me, Thomas just grumbled loudly and turned away. For a brief moment, I saw his gaze waver. He couldn’t refute what I said, but accepting it would hurt his pride, so he chose to bury it in anger.
After he stormed out, Mrs. Pierce finished giving instructions. She didn’t say anything to me, but the look she gave me wasn’t kind, which made me uneasy.
‘It’s fine. I don’t think I said anything wrong.’
The younger maids like Amy and Carol seemed to agree. They praised my courage and went on a long rant about Thomas.
Before long, news of the incident reached the ears of their distinguished guest, Count Penwood.
“Miss, why must you draw attention to yourself like that?”
The moment Ian saw me, he began scolding. I puffed my cheeks slightly in response.
“It wasn’t unnecessary. You weren’t there, so you don’t know how awful it felt.”
“We’re not here to experience only pleasant things.”
“Ian, I hear people who only ever say the right things tend to be disliked. I’m honestly worried about your future.”
“Miss.”
Ian sighed seriously.
“If you fall out of favor with the family, you could be dismissed over something trivial.”
“That’s why I’m asking you to help me.”
“…What?”
“If you praise Ellie—the maid in charge of the guest rooms—saying she’s diligent and impressive, they won’t dismiss her so easily.”
But Ian shook his head.
“No, Miss. What I mean is, now that things have come to this, perhaps it’s time to return to the Whittington estate.”
“Return?”
“You said you couldn’t accept it, but I believe there’s nothing more to uncover here.”
He looked at me for a moment before continuing.
“Miss Aileen took her own life. There’s nothing unusual about the circumstances.”
“But—”
“And Miss Anne, in her emotional distress, followed her sister. Miss, even if there are things you dislike about this family, they’ve suffered a series of tragedies. What we’re doing here may not be respectful.”
“I think Anne’s death was definitely suicide,” I said.
“But Aileen’s is suspicious. Why would she leave her room in the west wing and hang herself in the east wing library? She wasn’t drunk like Anne, and she didn’t argue with anyone the day before. So why would she suddenly take her life without leaving a note?”
“Miss, not everyone behaves in predictable ways. When people are emotionally distressed, they can act unexpectedly. Perhaps the library was meaningful to her, and she acted on impulse without leaving a note. I understand it’s hard to accept your friend’s death, but excessive suspicion isn’t right either. If it’s not suicide, then you’re implying murder—and suspecting innocent people is not something to take lightly.”
“Ian, what if…,” I began carefully.
“If I suddenly killed myself without leaving a note… would you accept it? Would you just say, ‘She must have been struggling,’ and move on?”
“Miss!”
“That’s not a fair comparison—”
Ian paused, then sighed again.
“…No. I wouldn’t accept it.”
“You do understand me, then. You’re the one person I thought would.”
“Even so, I want us to leave as soon as possible.”
Ian rubbed his face.
“Talk of respect is just an excuse. I just have a bad feeling.”
“A bad feeling?”
“Call it a butler’s intuition. I can’t explain it, but it feels like something ominous is hanging over this house. That’s why I want you out of here.”
“Oh, it’s just your imagination.”
I waved it off with a smile, even though I knew Ian’s instincts were usually sharp. But he remained serious.
“Then at least be careful. And avoid drawing attention like you did today.”
Thomas Flanagan wasn’t as petty as I had thought.
He was about ten times worse.
Through Mrs. Pierce, he ordered me to clean several unused rooms on the third floor of the east wing—all by myself—within the day.
“They’re not even being used—why does it have to be done today? And the third floor isn’t even your area.”
Amy complained on my behalf, but as a servant, I had no choice but to obey.
The east and west wings were similar in structure, but the east wing, being older, was more worn and required more repairs.
The room I had been assigned had a collapsed balcony beneath the window. It had been locked for safety and left unused for months.
Some furniture had even been left outside in the hallway—chairs and drawers waiting to be arranged, delayed again and again because no one needed the room.
“The furniture will be moved in the evening by the servants,” Mrs. Pierce said, gesturing inside.
“Your job is to clean and prepare the room. I’ll come inspect it later, so don’t slack off.”
After she left, I looked around.
The window was slightly open, so the musty smell wasn’t too bad. I opened it wider, revealing the west wing across the way.
The room was sparse—just a bed and a small table.
The bed was a mess. The bedding was disheveled, and the pillow lay on the floor near the foot of the bed. Someone had clearly used it and never cleaned up.
There were even dried crumbs pressed into the bedsheet.
“Who on earth used this room…?”
I began stripping the sheets when something black darted into a corner.
“Aah! I can’t stand this!”
A rat.
I wasn’t as afraid of rats as Anne had been, but it startled me and irritated me.
‘Miss, why go through all this trouble? Let’s just leave,’ I could almost hear Ian say.
“No,” I said aloud.
“Ian says it feels ominous and wants to avoid it—but I feel something else. I want to confront whatever this ominous feeling is and find out what it really is.”
With that, I gathered my strength and pulled off the sheet.
“So I can still keep going.”
