Mrs. Jeffries & the Silent Knight by Emily Brightwell (black female authors .TXT) 📕

get a few bits out of them. She’s good at that sort of thing.”

“So you don’t think it’s a silly idea?” Mrs. Jeffries asked

quickly.

“I think it’s a grand idea,” the cook replied. “But I’d use

a different name if I was you.”

C H A P T E R 7

�� ��

Mrs. Jeffries changed from her plain brown bombazine

dress, which clearly marked her as a housekeeper, into a

walking dress of gray-blue cloth. The outfit consisted of a

bell skirt edged with navy blue cording and the merest hint

of a train, coupled with a gray blouse trimmed in navy at

the collar and cuffs. With this, she wore her new calf-kid

shoes and her good gray mantle with the matching hat.

Mrs. Jeffries wanted to look as rich as possible.

She stepped outside and went toward Shepherds Bush

Station. The day was clear, bright, and quite cold. Some of

the shops had put holly wreaths and ribbons in their windows, reminding Mrs. Jeffries that Christmas was less than a week away and that they were running out of time.

She entered the station, bought a return ticket, and then

walked out to the platform to wait for the train. Within half

an hour, she was in Richmond and walking briskly down

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Kew Road. She knew exactly where to go; she’d gotten the

name of the domestic agency from the local newspaper.

The Saunders Domestic Agency was housed on the second floor of a narrow brick building. Mrs. Jeffries pulled open the outer door and stepped inside. She went up the

wide staircase to the second floor, found the office door, and

stood outside for a moment taking a long, deep breath. She

kept reminding herself their work for the inspector was

very important and one had to do what one had to do to get

information.

She opened the door, stepped inside, and then came to a

full stop, blinking hard to insure she wasn’t seeing things.

It wasn’t the office itself that was the source of her amazement, for it was quite an ordinary office with a large desk in the center of the room and two high desks over by the windows. She blinked again making sure she wasn’t mistaken.

At each of the high desks there sat a woman. They were

dressed much the same, both of them wearing dark skirts

and white blouses with stiff, high collars. The third woman,

dressed in much the same fashion but with a matching

jacket over her blouse, was sitting at the center desk writing

in a ledger.

Mrs. Jeffries knew that women sometimes ran domestic

agencies, but generally all the clerks were male, and the female owners frequently went to great pains to stay in the background.

“Good day, madam.” The woman at the center desk rose

to her feet and closed the ledger in one smooth movement.

She was a middle-aged woman with light brown hair, a

longish nose, and a wide mouth. “May I be of service?”

Mrs. Jeffries remembered who she was supposed to be

and stopped gaping. She nodded regally. “Yes, thank you.

I’ve come to inquire about obtaining some staff.”

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“Of course, madam, I’m sure we can accommodate you.

We have a full range of domestic help for all sizes of households.” She waved at one of the two elegantly upholstered parlor chairs chairs opposite the desk. “Please have a seat,

madam. I’m Mrs. Saunders, the proprietress of this establishment.”

“How do you do, I’m Mrs. Edwin Roberts,” Mrs. Jeffries

replied as she settled herself in the chair.

Mrs. Saunders sank into her own seat and pulled a sheet of

paper out of the top drawer. “Now, how can I be of service?”

“My husband and I are moving our household to Richmond and most of our servants are unwilling to come. We’re currently living in Yorkshire, and most of the servants don’t

want to leave their families to come this far south,” she explained. “I’m going to need a full staff, a cook, a housekeeper, three housemaids, two scullery maids, and a gardener.”

Mrs. Saunders nodded. “Will you be needing a footman

or a coachman?”

“No. We’ve gotten rid of our carriage. These days it simply isn’t necessary. We’ll be moving into a house on Derby Hill Road—” She broke off as one of the other women

gasped.

Mrs. Saunders glared at the offender. “I’m sorry,” she said

softly. “Do please continue.”

Mrs. Jeffries said nothing for a moment. So far, things

were going precisely as she’d planned. “Is there something

wrong with Derby Hill Road?”

“No, of course not,” Mrs. Saunders replied. “It’s a delightful neighborhood.”

“But I think there is something amiss,” Mrs. Jeffries

pressed, “and I’d be most grateful if you could tell me what

it is. My husband and I are new here, and we’d appreciate

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being told if there is something wrong with our new community. We’ve been told we’ll be moving into an excellent neighborhood. There’s a knight that lives right down the

road from our new home.”

Mrs. Saunders hesitated. Mrs. Jeffries could tell she was

torn between wanting to acquire Mrs. Edwin Roberts’

business while at the same time not wanting to anger her

new customer by hiding something important from the

woman. “Well, there has been a bit of a problem recently,”

she admitted. “I’m afraid the knight you mentioned has

died.”

“Died?” Mrs. Jeffries shrugged. “How unfortunate for

the poor man. Was it a sudden death?”

The woman who’d gasped now snickered. Mrs. Saunders

threw her another glare and hissed, “Pauline, please.” Then

she turned to Mrs. Jeffries and smiled weakly. “You must excuse us, please. I’m afraid my sister-in-law has an odd sense of decorum.”

“Meaning the death was sudden?” Mrs. Jeffries inquired.

“Please, I would appreciate knowing anything I can about

this community. We’ve already purchased our home and

frankly, I don’t care for surprises.”

Mrs. Saunders hesitated again. Finally, she said, “Sir

George Braxton was murdered.”

“Ye Gods, there’s a maniac in the neighborhood,” Mrs.

Jeffries cried. “That’s dreadful.”

“Oh, no, ma’am.” Pauline leapt down from her high stool

and scurried over. “It’s nothing like that, everyone’s sure the

murder was done by one of his own people. You’re quite safe

as long as you’re not a relation to Sir George. Leastways,

that’s what everyone’s saying.”

Mrs. Saunders sighed. “Thank you, Pauline. Now, if you

don’t mind, I’m sure Mrs. Roberts’ time is very valuable,

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and we must