Chapter Seven
The servants’ hall at Haddington House had likely never been as full as it was late the next morning.
Not only were all members of the house’s interior and grounds staff, save two, present, but so was every member of the stable staff.
Such a gathering was essentially unheard of in fine homes like this.
That they were all dressed in traveling clothes with portmanteaus and traveling bags at their feet made the sight more odd still.
Duncan stood in front of them all, a carefully written list in his hands. “Aiden’s secured the post of stable master at Castle Darroch and is taking most of the stable staff with him. He’s spoken with you already, so you know who you are.”
Nods from among the stable hands met that pronouncement. Duncan looked down at his list again.
“Charles and Dougal are headed to Parley House. George and Malcolm from among the gardeners have been hired by a respectable family in Glasgow with extensive grounds.”
“Thank you for that,” Malcolm said.
Duncan gave a quick nod. “Johnny will be leaving with me. The rest of the stable hands and grounds workers have informed me they’ve secured new positions.”
He waved the butler over. He took his place beside Duncan.
“The housekeeper and I have found positions elsewhere for all of the household servants, except Mrs. Haddington’s lady’s maid and the chambermaid who’s been acting as a spy for Mrs. Haddington.”
“They’ve not been told of what is happening today,” Duncan assured the onlookers. “Nothing’ll prevent your escape.”
“And what about Miss Pemberton?” one of the maids asked. “We’ve been worrying about her.”
“She’s safe and well and not in any danger of destitution,” Duncan said. “And she’ll be relieved to hear that all of you have escaped this house of misery.”
“Thank you for helping all of us secure this escape,” another of the maids said.
“And for doing it in a way that’ll cause the most inconvenience for the Haddingtons,” Aiden added.
Laughter and declarations of agreement followed that, which were in turn followed by farewells among the staff. Slowly, the servants’ hall emptied and the belowstairs grew cavernously quiet. Duncan alone remained, just as he’d planned.
And then the bell to the drawing room began to impatiently ring.
A slow, satisfied smile spread over Duncan’s face. The moment of reckoning had arrived for the Haddington family, but they didn’t know it yet. He made his way leisurely through the maze of servants’ stairs, then down the corridor to the drawing room. He opened the door and stepped inside.
“My summons has been ignored for too long,” Mrs. Haddington declared. “The children have been unceremoniously left in here with us and—”
She spotted Duncan in the doorway and stopped her criticism. Confusion pulled at her features. The children eyed him with annoyance and dismissal.
“Buchanan?” Mr. Haddington looked as surprised as his wife. “Why are you answering the bell?”
“Because there is no one else to do so.”
Mrs. Haddington stood. “Where is the rest of the staff?”
“There is no ‘rest of the staff.’ I have come to this room not in response to your summons but to deliver the resignation of your housekeeper, butler, maids, footmen, kitchen staff, groundskeeper and gardeners, and the entirety of your stable staff.” He held Mr. Haddington’s gaze with a hard glare.
“And to inform you of the departure of your stable master.”
“All of the servants?” Young Ella Haddington produced an expression of distaste that mirrored her mother’s.
“Who will bring us our biscuits?” little Joseph demanded. “I was promised biscuits.”
A fine punctuation for the nursery servants to leave on their resignation—the children would demand the biscuits they were promised regardless of their parents’ inability to facilitate them.
“And it is nearly time for tea,” Mrs. Haddington said.
“You know where the kitchen is,” Duncan said dismissively. “Make it yourself.”
In a panicked huff, Mrs. Haddington stormed out of the room, her one-year-old daughter in her arms, her loudly complaining children snatching at her skirts.
“The staff would not dare leave us in such a state,” Mr. Haddington insisted. “You certainly cannot do so.”
Duncan simply turned around and left. He could hear Mr. Haddington’s frustrated footsteps echoing behind him.
“See here, Buchanan.” The man was clearly attempting to strike a reconciliatory tone, but his haughtiness undermined the effort. “We can come to an agreement here. Be reasonable.”
“I have heard from our staff of the treatment they’ve been subjected to in this house.” Duncan spoke as he walked. “You may not disapprove of such things, but make no mistake, Haddington, I do. And I have the ability to make life excessively painful for you and your family.”
“It seems to me you already have,” Mr. Haddington muttered as they reached the entryway.
Duncan stopped and turned to face him. “Do you truly believe emptying your house of staff is the most painful thing I could do to you?”
“Is that a threat?” Mr. Haddington clearly meant the question as not only rhetorical but an indication that he didn’t believe for a moment that Duncan truly would follow through on any such warning.
“It is absolutely a threat. An unmitigated, unwavering threat that I can and will make good on.” He took a single step closer to Mr. Haddington. “So I suggest you do not test me.”
Mrs. Haddington reached the entryway from the other direction. “There is not a soul to be seen,” she said to her husband. “We really have been abandoned.”
Duncan pulled open the front door. On the other side stood the very confused squire of the neighborhood. Mr. Reynolds managed to look both apologetic and a bit annoyed.
“My repeated knocks have not been answered,” he said.
“Thank you for coming,” Duncan said.
“You summoned him?” Mr. Haddington asked.
Duncan gave a single firm nod. “In his capacity as squire.” He then turned to Mr. Reynolds.
“Mr. Haddington owes Miss Pemberton her entire quarter’s wages.
” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Mr. Reynolds.
“I will either leave here with the amount documented on that paper, or you will leave with him and make arrangements for him to be handed over to the debtors’ prison in Glasgow. I don’t care which outcome is chosen.”
“Debtors’ prison!” Mrs. Haddington’s shrill exclamation grated painfully on Duncan’s ears, but he didn’t flinch.
Mr. Reynolds looked up from the paper in his hands. “This also lists wages owed to you.”
“He’s been shorting me from the beginning of my employment here,” Duncan said. “I’ve kept very detailed accounts. It’s a hefty sum by now.”
Mr. Haddington paled.
“I’ll have all of it in hand or will demand satisfaction from the law.” Duncan folded his arms across his chest and turned his hard, unyielding gaze on Mr. Haddington.
“I do not have such a sum in this house.” That he didn’t have to be told how significant the amount was no doubt stood as further proof to Mr. Reynolds of the truth of Duncan’s accusations. “The staff was only just paid their quarterly wages.”
“Miss Pemberton was not paid hers,” Duncan reiterated. “And I wasn’t paid all of mine.”
“I do not have money enough in this house to pay that,” Mr. Haddington repeated, an edge of pleading and desperation ringing in every word.
Duncan gave a single, firm nod. “Debtors’ prison it is.”
Mrs. Haddington descended into an almost incomprehensible flow of objections, punctuated by wails and hand-wringing. Ella and Joseph, having arrived in the entryway as well, joined in, though Duncan hadn’t the first idea if they truly knew what was happening.
Mr. Haddington stepped closer to him. “A bit of mercy, Mr. Buchanan. I beg you.”
“I will show you as much mercy as you showed Miss Pemberton.” Duncan let his eyes dart between his now-former employers. “As much as you both showed her.”
He paused long enough for that to land on both of them with the weight of a blacksmith’s anvil. He then turned to the squire once more.
“Tie him up. The law demands it.”
Mr. Reynolds took a step closer to Mr. Haddington.
“Surely we can come to some agreement, Mr. Buchanan.” The edge of pleading in his voice before had turned to undeniable begging. “Surely.”
Duncan watched him, unmoved.
The squire set his hand on Mr. Haddington’s arm. “This sum is significant, Mr. Haddington. Enough that you’ll have to wait until the next assizes and plead to a judge. But you’ll have to go to the debtors’ prison until then.”
“Please.” Mr. Haddington looked desperate.
Mrs. Haddington was weeping outright. The children were loudly complaining about everything from missing their daily ride to the possibility of not having all the food they wished for in the exact moment they demanded it.
“I hold your future and your family’s well-being in my hands, Haddington,” Duncan said, hard and unyielding. “Remember that should you ever acquire servants again and are tempted to mistreat them. No matter your arrogance, your wealth, your standing, you are outnumbered.”
Mr. Haddington nodded, nervousness dripping off of him.
Duncan turned to Mr. Reynolds. “I have a proposition.”