Mayfield: A Saga

Martha couldn’t keep her serious face any longer. She was too trusting of people to believe any such talk. “Oh Hesty, calm yourself!” she laughed as she finished the remainder of her dinner. “Are you listening to yourself? Why, that girl in there is barely big enough to swat a fly, much less finish off a person!” She stood to clear their dishes. “Now, enough of this meaningless gossip. You’re jut going to have to get used to the idea of having this girl work with us. And if she does turn out to be a murderer, we’ll all say ‘By God, Hesty was right’! Now, help me clean these up,” she said motioning to the now foodless dishes. “It’s nearly time to clear the dining room.”

Hester stood and followed Martha to the sink. “I just have a bad feeling about this girl, Martha,” she said in a low voice. “I just know she’s hiding something.”

Martha turned around and wiped her wet, soapy hands on her apron. “You have a bad feeling about everyone on God’s green earth. And besides,” she answered with a mischevious grin,” we all have something to hide.” She couldn’t get the picture of Mr. Remmington’s loving smile out of her mind.

This response puzzled Hester, who always thought Martha was as readable as an open book. But before she could ask for an explanation, Martha was out the door. It was all Hester could do to follow her into the dining room and clean up after the very woman she most mistrusted.

She entered the dining room just in time to hear the details of Ellie’s new position. She started to clear the dinner plates when Albus Remmington asked Ellie, “Do you have any experience with children, my dear?” He looked at Ellie with an encouraging smile.

“Yes sir, I have some,” Ellie answered slowly. “I used to volunteer at the local parish school in my hometown.” She was afraid to elaborate any further. She didn’t want to risk giving away enough information for the Remmingtons to be able to research her history. She could feel Edward Remmington’s stare burning right through her, but she dared not look up. “I taught them basic reading and writing skills,” she finally added to appease their curiosity.

“My word!” Albus exclaimed, astonished. “Literate, and with a noble and giving heart. What a prize you would be to any household, Miss Brown.”

Hester, who was still clearing away the trays of food, couldn’t help but let out an angry snort which somehow she was able to pass off as a sneeze.

“Are you catching cold, Hester?” Edward asked with genuine concern. He looked up at her pale face, mistaking it for sickness. “It would suit you well to take a break tomorrow. You may stay home from church in the morning and rest.”

Hester put down the plates and looked at Edward. “But sir, what of Miss Violet? Surely you would not have her miss church on account of me?” Hester knew what the answer would be before he even opened his mouth to speak it.