Magic Below Stairs by Caroline Stevermer Page A

to miss.
    Bess rapped at the door until Stoke the gatekeeper emerged. He moved so slowly, Frederick half expected the old man to have patches of moss himself.
    â€œWhat’s the trouble, young ones?” The gatekeeper, once he finally joined them, had a voice as slow as his steps. He took his time sizing them up. “You two look all of a rumple. What’s wrong?”
    Bess told Stoke who they were. “We have a message we must give to his lordship as soon as possible.”
    Frederick added, “It’s important.”
    â€œIs it, now?” The gatekeeper scratched at his chin whiskers. “Unaccountable flighty his young lordship has always been, but word has come he means to arrive today. Settle down on the bench here. We will watch for him together.”
    Bess accepted the offer with thanks. Frederick sat down beside her and looked around. The stone wall was in good repair, but there was no sign whatever of a gate. “What good is a gatehouse without a gate?” he muttered to Bess.
    Despite his years, there seemed nothing whatever wrong with Stoke’s hearing. “There’s gates and then there’s gates, youngster. If you mean a big door you can lock, there was a gate here once, but that was long ago. It’s gone to ruins now. They nearly let this gatehouse go to ruins too, but his lordship had them mend my roof when he mended the great house, after the wizards finished their house cleaning.”
    Frederick sat up straight. “You were here when the curse was broken?” Stoke certainly looked as if he’d been there since Noah’s flood.
    â€œThat I was, youngster.” Stoke scratched at his chin again. “Some say wizards only play tricks on those they claim to help. I know better. Those wizards earned every penny of their wages.”
    Frederick could hardly keep his seat. “What did they do? What was it like?”
    â€œIt was like spring-cleaning in a madhouse. I kept my distance, but there were flashes like lightning over the trees there. When morning came at last, we had rain like it would never stop. You wouldn’t believe me now, if I told you how this roof leaked. Fair washed me away. Now for you and the lass. Must be something dreadful important to bring the pair of you out from the great house and away from your duties for so long, all lest you miss his lordship.”
    Frederick nodded. His conscience pained him enough as it was. He didn’t want to add lying to his misdeeds. Stoke didn’t seem like the sort of person one could tell lies to. So Frederick held his peace. When he didn’t speak and Bess didn’t either, Stoke let the silence grow for several minutes.
    At last, the old man turned to Bess. “With that ginger hair of yours, you have a look about you, lass, and a look I think I know. Is your mother Mary Briggs?”
    â€œShe was before she wed my father,” Bess answered. “She’s Mistress Mary Parker now.”
    Stoke was delighted. “I thought I knew the look of you. Your mother was maid here at Skeynes and met your father when she went off to London with the old lord and lady.”
    â€œYes. Papa was a footman in the London household,” Bess said. “He is Lord Ravelston’s butler now.”
    â€œAre you the only child?” Stoke asked.
    â€œOh, no. I have two sisters and a brother,” said Bess. “I’m young to be one of the maids brought to Skeynes, but Mama wanted me to know her family here. I have an aunt working in the dairy at the home farm. Another year and Clarence, that’s my brother, ought to find a position in the London household as well.”
    Frederick looked at Bess with wonder. “Is that why you were so happy to be sent off to the country? I didn’t know your mother was so good at arranging things.”
    Bess looked pleased with herself. “I would have told you all about it, if you had seemed even a little interested. It is