4
THERE WERE A FEW SHOPS close to The Golden Pear making the area busy with people. Bridgette stopped at each one and asked if they knew how to get to the Thornwood Estate. No one had an answer for her until she came upon a nice elderly woman who knew the area well. Lord Thornwood apparently lived just outside town on a decent piece of land that was isolated in a shallow valley, hidden away behind the hills and trees that ran along the main road between Cold Stone Hollow and its neighboring town to the east. Despite her burning blister and her rumbling stomach, Bridgette walked fast with a smile on her face. This was exactly what she was hoping for, and it practically landed in her lap after a full morning of disappointment. She was not going to let it slip through her fingers.
The old lady had told her where to look for a path that broke off the main road. After trekking for a while, Bridgette found what seemed like a path that hadn’t been traveled on in a long time. Bridgette turned on the path, hoping she was going in the right direction and not leading herself into yet another disaster. A stitch in her side accompanied her up the last hill. As soon as she reached the top and looked out, she knew she was in the right place. The stretch of land before her was covered in wildflowers and slanted down toward a wide stream, then inclined back up on the other side. Bridgette traced the stream with her eyes up the hill from where it flowed and saw what had to be Lord Thornwood’s manor. It was about the same size as Jack’s manor, but with a more mature presence. The faded brick and overgrown ivy told Bridgette that it had been around for a while, but the age did not take away from its magnificence. The dark, iron-framed windows and fence surrounding the structure made it feel secure and firm in its existence. A waterwheel sat to the side of the manor over the stream and turned with the flow of the water. Through the tall weeds, Bridgette could barely make out a path which was wide enough for wagons and carriages. It ran along the edge of the little wildflower valley and up to the manor.
Bridgette waited and caught her breath, then took her time to get to the manor. She didn’t want to show up out of breath and a complete sweaty mess. As she walked, she undid her braid and ran her fingers through her long hair to flatten any small hairs that liked to stick straight out. Her dress still looked presentable and her boots didn’t have any animal dung on them, so they were as good as they could be. The tall, black iron gates thankfully stood open and let her make her way to the large stone steps, leading to the main doors, without any trouble. Bridgette smoothed her dress with her shaky hands and focused on the sound of the water pouring off of the waterwheel as it came out of the stream. This calmed her racing heart.
“You need this, Bridgette. You have to do it,” she said out loud. She looked up and admired the intricate carved bricks that lined the windows. “Don’t mess it up.” She gathered all her courage and stood up tall as she ascended the steps to the large doors. She reached up and used the brass knocker to knock three times. Bridgette stepped back and waited. No one answered. She knocked again, a little harder than before. The house remained silent and still. She looked at all of the windows and realized that not a single one had its curtains open.
Bridgette’s heart sank. Was it abandoned? Did Lord Thornwood leave after he made Anne cry? “No, I will not accept that I came all this way for nothing,” she said out loud. She grabbed the knocker handle with frustration and slammed it down. She lifted her hand to knock again, but the brass handle completely separated from the head of the knocker. “Oh no,” Bridgette said as she looked at the metal piece in her hand.
The door opened.
An older man’s face peered out of the dark interior of the manor. He blinked in the late afternoon light and looked puzzled. “May I help you, Miss?”
Bridgette put her hands behind her back and bowed. “My name is Bridgette Meadowbrooke, and I have come to inquire of a position in this household.” She hated that her voice sounded so small and weak.
His well-groomed, gray eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Please come in.” He stepped back and opened the door wide enough for her to walk through. A single candle was lit and sat on the entrance hall table; everything else was hidden by dark shadows. After he shut the door, the old man picked up the candle. “This way to the sitting room. I do apologize for not being prepared for visitors. I honestly thought that no one would come after what happened earlier. And the Master likes things to be... dark.”
“Are you talking about what happened with Anne?” Bridgette asked as she followed him into a room.
He pulled open a set of curtains before he turned around and said, “Yes. Please have a seat.” He gestured to a set of stuffed chairs near the window. Bridgette sat in one. “It is unfortunate how things played out with Anne; she had seemed like a good fit.” The man was dressed neatly in a white button-up shirt, a matching gray waistcoat and trousers, and a neatly tied cravat. He looked like he was in a daze as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his brow. “I thought for sure she would get a mob to come burn the manor down.”
Bridgette blinked up at the older man. “Well, she was upset when I saw her, but I didn’t come here to burn the place down. I just need employment.”
“Oh, yes. I beg your pardon,” he said as he put his handkerchief away. He bowed before her. “I am Edgar Stillworth, the butler and personal valet for the Master.”
Bridgette smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stillworth. How many other servants are under Lord Thornwood’s employ?”
He stood up straight with his hands behind his back. “I am the only one at the moment.”
“The only one?” Bridgette asked in surprise.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat, “I am not sure how much Anne told you, but the Master likes to keep to himself. He ran into a bit of trouble with his brother several months ago, and he just wants to stay out of the public eye. The fewer workers, the better.”
“That sounds lonely,” she said. The butler nodded solemnly. “Did Lord Thornwood not want you to hire Anne? Is that why he got angry at her?”
Edgar sighed. “I am afraid it might be part of it.”
“So are you not hiring then?” Bridgette asked cautiously.
“Oh, no, I will hire as long as there is someone wanting a position. The Master might not want anyone else here, but it is too much work for an old man like me. I need help to keep this house going. I think if I start with only one maid, it would ease him into having more servants about the house. I hope.”
Bridgette grinned. “That is perfect. I would love to work here.”
“I suppose you would like to know how much you would earn?”
She fiddled with the brass handle in her lap. “I…well, I had heard that you offered Anne one gold coin a week,” which would save me and two others who rely on me from being arrested, she said in her head. “But I was wondering if maybe I could get one and a half instead?”
Edgar looked down at her for a moment, and Bridgette forced herself not to squirm. “I will make you a deal. I will hire you and pay you one gold piece, if you make it a week. If you somehow still want to work here after that, I will increase it by five silver pieces.”
Bridgette hopped to her feet and clapped. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Stillworth, thank you!”
The butler stepped back in surprise at her outburst, then gave an awkward smile. The smile didn’t last long. “I must warn you that the Master does have a strong temper, and that is why we have gone through more maids than dishes.”
“I like a challenge, sir,” Bridgette said with a salute as if she were a soldier.
“What is that in your hand?”
“Oh.” Bridgette blushed. “I sort of broke the door knocker, sorry.” She held it out to him.
Edgar took the handle and chuckled. “It has been years since someone has lived here. I have been busy with repairs and have many more to do. Maybe it is something you will help me with.”
A new spark of joy blossomed inside of Bridgette. “Yes! I am a quick learner and will not let you down, Mr. Stillworth.”
“Please, call me Edgar,” he said with a warm smile. “It is almost evening now, so why don’t you come back early tomorrow and we can talk about the details, yes?”
“Yes, thank you, Edgar. See you in the morning.”
The butler led her back out the front door. When the latch softly clicked behind her, Bridgette beamed out at the wildflower meadow. “I did it!” She skipped down the steps and spun in a circle. Things were looking up. Maybe Hellen had to fire her so she could find new employment with better pay. Bridgette thought about her mother and Birdie and a future that was bright and within her reach. She would be able to save up quickly for a doctor to see her mother, and they could probably move into a nice house far away from Jack and Alice. “Slow down, Bridgette. You know it will take time and hard work,” she told herself.
Birdie’s words echoed in her mind. Look up and you will know you have f-found it.
Bridgette took a deep breath and looked up at the late afternoon sky. A flapping sound made her scream and cover her head. A host of sparrows flew right over her and into the tall trees in the distance. Bridgette laughed loudly and spun again. Something smacked her in the face. “Oof,” she grunted. She caught it in her hands and gaped. It was a white bird. Majestic and beautiful. “Well if there was ever a sign from Birdie, this would be it.” She raised her hands and the bird flew off. Bridgette smiled. She would have to ask Birdie what kind of bird it was when she got home.
Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. The thick curtain to one of the second story windows was quickly put back into place. That was strange. Was Lord Thornwood watching her? She would need to watch herself so she didn’t end up like Anne. The idea of Lord Thornwood yelling at her for her clumsiness made her feel uneasy, but Bridgette never let fear stop her from doing what needed to be done.