Syrie James

Chapter One

YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND

September 1850

 

School had only been in session for a month when the maid’s body was discovered in the river.

Athena Taylor caught wind of the calamity at the conclusion of the first class of the day when the snowy-haired housekeeper passed by the schoolroom door.

“Mrs. Lloyd!” Athena shivered as she crossed the room and paused in the open doorway. “Why are the fires not lit?”

Laying fresh fires was the duty of Sally Osborn, one of the two housemaids at Thorndale Manor. But upon rising, Athena had noticed that fires had not been lit in any of the customary chambers. Breakfast had been a frigid affair, and the casement windows in the classroom were fogged with moisture from a hard rain that had fallen during the night.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Taylor,” replied Mrs. Lloyd, gracefully crossing her arms over her ample midriff. “Sally hasn’t come in to work today.”

“Hasn’t she?” Athena rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to warm them, an action she had observed the girls performing throughout the class period. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“It is. Sally’s been here nine years, and she’s never missed a day of work. She arrives regular as clockwork at seven every morning.”

It occurred to Athena that in the five months since she had taken possession of Thorndale Manor, she hadn’t had a great deal of interaction with Sally Osborn. Athena and her sister Selena had spent the bulk of that time readying the house for their new enterprise, the Darkmoor Bridge School for Girls.

Sally was an unassuming young woman in her late twenties who quietly went about her work. Unlike the other servants, who lived on the premises, Sally was a day laborer who lived in the nearby village of Darkmoor Bridge with her father and sister.

“As I understand it, when the weather is too awful for Sally to get safely home, she shares Tabitha’s room?” Tabitha, the other housemaid, slept on the second floor in the servants’ quarters. “Is it possible that Sally spent last night here?’

“No, Miss Taylor. Sally went home yesterday evening before the rain.”

“Well, then, I wonder what has happened.” Athena heard the rustle of her pupils capping their ink bottles and stowing writing materials in their desks. “Perhaps we should send someone to check on her.”

“I would have sent someone to fetch her, but I had no one to spare. Tabitha is in bed with a head cold. Hetty scalded herself when she dropped the coffee pot this morning.”

“Oh, no! Is Hetty all right?”

“She is, but she’s still cleaning up from breakfast. Then I need her to empty the chamber pots and lay the fires, which Sally would have done. As soon as she’s able, I’ll have Hetty run over to the village to ask after Sally.”

“Oh, let’s not bother poor Hetty.” The kitchen maid was clearly overtasked already. The students, who had donned their cloaks, began filing past Athena and out of the room. “There must be someone else we can send.”

But who? Athena had acquired the minimal staff left by the previous owner. The cook, gardener, and man-of-all-work would be busy with their own duties.

A young voice cried brightly, “I’ll go!”

It was Miss Lucy Russell, a precocious girl of eight, and the youngest pupil at the school.

“I know where Sally lives,” Miss Russell rushed on. Her long, dark locks were tied back with a white ribbon and her bright-blue eyes, which matched her pin-tucked frock, shone with excitement. “It’s the stone cottage two doors down from the village shop. We pass it every Sunday on our way to church.”

Athena was surprised that Miss Russell knew this. “Did Sally tell you where she lived?”

“No, miss, I deduced it. Which wasn’t difficult. Sally said her house had a yellow door, and it’s the only house in the village with a yellow door.”

“I see.” Athena was impressed by the girl’s vocabulary and observational skills. “Thank you for the offer, Miss Russell, but I couldn’t let you go alone. Besides, the morning exercise period has just begun. You must proceed to the courtyard.”

“I’ll get far more exercise if you let me go,” Miss Russell pleaded. “I’ll take the shortcut on the river path. I can dash to the village as fast as anything and be back in time for our next lesson.”

“I’ll go with her,” offered Florence Jones, pushing back a lock of ginger hair from her freckled face. Miss Jones was a year older than Miss Russell, and Athena had noticed that over the past month since school had started, the two girls had become fast friends. “She won’t be alone.”

Athena couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “All right, girls. I shall permit it this once. Please ask Sally if she is well and hurry straight back to school to report what she says to me.”

“Yes, Miss Taylor!” the girls proclaimed in unison.

“Be careful!” Athena called out as they dashed off. “It rained last night, and the path may be damp!”

“We will, Miss Taylor!” Miss Russell replied before the girls disappeared from view.

Athena joined her sister in the rear courtyard and apprised her of the situation with Sally, while their three other students darted about in the autumn sunshine. As Athena breathed in the fresh morning air, still redolent with the memory of last night’s rain, she glanced up at the ancient Elizabethan building looming above them. Its walls of faded stone, Gothic casement windows, and gabled roofs spoke of the wealth of the men who had designed and built it more than two hundred years ago.

Athena knew how lucky she was to own Thorndale Manor. It was an opportunity she was determined to make the most of. However, although Athena usually enjoyed this brief respite before the remaining gauntlet of classes, she couldn’t help but sigh.

Selena gave her a curious look. At age twenty-eight, her sister was a year younger than Athena and she had hazel eyes, whereas Athena’s eyes were blue. Selena’s blonde tresses, which took after their mother’s, contrasted with Athena’s dark-auburn hair, which they’d been told had come from a paternal grandfather.

Their styles of dress were different, too. Selena’s rose-pink gown with its embroidered bodice and layered, ruffled skirts was a livelier fashion choice than the tailored, dark-purple skirt and jacket, high-necked white blouse, and pin-striped waistcoat that Athena wore.

In facial features, though, they resembled each other as well as their older sister, Diana. All three had the same too-small noses, high cheekbones, and eyes that crinkled when they smiled.

Selena wasn’t smiling now. “You’re not worried about Sally, are you?”

“Of course I am.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she enjoyed a bit too much ale at the inn last night and overslept.”

“She doesn’t seem the type to frequent an inn, or drink ale.”

“We don’t really know Sally, or what she does in her free time. People can surprise you.”

“Perhaps. But that’s not the only thing that worries me.”