Neither of us could figure out who the suitor might be.

There were plenty of young men who worked for the family, but Mary and I spoke to so few of them that we couldn't determine which one she might be referring to. In my experience, none of the servants were all that eloquent with their words and yet Lady Catherine had compared her mysterious suitor to a Jane Austen novel.

Of course, it's entirely possible that whoever the suitor was, they would put on the airs and graces in order to impress when they were as common as the rest of us. If that were the case, it made it all the more difficult to figure out who it might be.

The flower offered us what we hoped to be a small clue, although it wasn't much of one.

"The only servants who are in the garden are the gardeners; no one else has the time to go out there," Mary said as we tied Lady Abigail's bedroom. "So it has to be one of the gardeners."

"For someone who didn't want to be a co-conspirator, you're rather invested in all of this."

"I have to admit, I'm curious. Molly left for a new placement two months after Lady Catherine died and yet, whoever this suitor might be, they're still here. If they were as in love as they appear to be on paper, why have they not left too? I don't understand it."

"Me neither. You would have thought they would be distraught by her death."

"I was thinking last night about the journal. Remember how I said I did the attic last year?"

I nodded.

"We did the spring cleaning a few weeks early, a week or so before Lady Catherine died. I'm more than certain that the bricks on the chimney were fine. None of them moved and none of them had been moved. Which means that between me cleaning the attic and Lady Catherine's death, she moved the journal up to the attic."

"It might just be a coincidence."

"Maybe."

Mary didn't appear all that convinced. Lady Catherine had to have a reason for moving the journal, but the inquiry into her death put it down as a complete accident. She tripped on the hem of her dress whilst climbing the stairs and fell. The constable and the coroner found nothing suspicious about her death and no sign that anyone else had anything to do with it. All of the servants and family could be accounted for and there was no one else in the property.

I was certain we would find out why she moved the journal when we reached the last few pages, but work meant we couldn't read too much of it at any one time. Mary had decided to write to Molly to find out if she knew anything about a mysterious beau, or even the journal. We both decided it would be safe to inform Molly of the journal since she no longer worked for the family.

After sorting Lady Abigail's room, Mary and I headed down the hallway to her playroom. It had been her nursery during her early years and now, aged ten, it housed all of her toys so they wouldn't mess up her room. Lady Richardson had tried to persuade her to stop playing with her toys as she was nearing the age of a young Lady, but Lady Abigail had other ideas. She would sneak into the playroom each morning and spend half an hour playing with her dolls which meant that Mary and I had to tidy them up again.

We started with the dolls that were strewn all over the floor, the two of us moving them onto the shelves so they wouldn't end up getting broken. Almost half of the dolls had once belonged to Lady Catherine and I was more than certain they would all end up in the attic when Lady Abigail reached her formative years.

As we finished putting the dolls back on the shelf, a loud bang echoed just above us, jolting the shelves and sending one of the dolls crashing from the shelf.

"What was that?" Mary asked, picking up the doll and examining it for any damage.

"I'll go and find out. Something probably fell over upstairs."

Mary nodded. She placed the doll back on the shelf and moved onto the dolls house whilst I left the room and headed over to the back staircase. I climbed the stairs in the near darkness, emerging on the uppermost landing where the noise had come from. There didn't appear to be anyone on the landing, but I moved through and checked all the rooms to try and figure out just what it could have been.

Before I could round the corner towards the hatch that led to the attic, Jasper appeared in front of me, emerging from a nearby room.

"I take it you heard the bang," he said.

"It knocked one of Lady Abigail's dolls from the shelf. What was it?"

"From what I can gather, there was a large gust of wind and it managed to knock Lady Richardson's easel over. It must not have been propped up correctly, but I fixed it."

"As long as it wasn't a person or something fragile."

Jasper smiled. "Just an easel. I'll let Lord Richardson know what happened just in case he starts to ask questions. No damage done, though."

"Good to hear it." I nodded. "I should get back to work."

"I shall see you later.

He tipped his cap at me and I turned and headed down the back staircase. Mary was still sorting the dollhouse by the time I returned, small pieces of furniture still covering the floor. She looked up at me when I entered and raised an eyebrow.

"What happened?"

"It was Lady Richardson's easel, Jasper sorted it."

"Jasper? What's he doing spending so much time in the house?"

"Maybe Lord Richardson has asked him to complete a task for him." I shrugged. "You sound disappointed that you missed him?"

A blush rose to Mary's cheeks. "No."

I laughed. "We should finish up here, I want to have another go at opening that locket."

Mary nodded, the two of us working to finish cleaning the playroom so we could move on to the rest of our chores. We might not get much of a break, but I could break away at luncheon to see if I could open the locket and reveal its contents. There were twenty-four members of the garden staff and that locket might be what we need to give us more of a clue as to who the secret suitor was.

It almost felt as if we might never find out.

~~~

First Published - February 16th, 2022