Free 080072089X (R) by Ruth Axtell

felt the flush along his jawline. “Yes, of course. Come along.”
    He marched down the stairs, as if they had been at fault. The two followed at his heels.
    He left them with plenty of clean rags, staring slack jawed at the rows of bottles, and felt only a slight qualm. Hopefully, he wouldn’t return in an hour to find bottles missing or telltale signs that they had been imbibing. He tried to think of a way to warn them that he’d be aware of how many bottles there were. Mr. Rumford kept a detailed account book cataloging every bottle, but Rees was not such a mutton head to think he’d be able to tell upon a quick inspection.
    “Very well, carry on. I shall be down by and by to check on your progress.”
    “Yes, sir,” they both chimed in.
    Rees made his way back down the dim corridor then up the service stairs to make them believe he was going to the upper part of the house.
    The chambermaids were busy cleaning the upstairs receiving rooms. He could hear them chattering in the parlor.
    He had little time to lose. He retraced his way down the stairs to the basement and headed toward Mrs. Finlay’s sitting room.
    He knocked smartly and poked his head in the door at her immediate reply to come in. “Lady Wexham wishes to see you in her sitting room.” That much was true as the countess desired to go over dinner party details.
    The housekeeper was sitting at her account books. “Very good, sir. I shall go straightaway.” She closed the ledger and rose, her keys jingling at her waist, and straightened her starched white cap.
    He held the door for her and closed it after her.

    As she walked away from him toward the service stairs, he jangled his own set of keys and pretended to head toward the wine cellar, but as soon as the housekeeper was out of sight up the stairs, he did an about-face and continued past her room. He glanced quickly into the kitchen, but it was empty, everything tidy. He paused in front of the servants’ dining hall then walked through it to the room in the rear used by Gaspard.
    He knocked, although he didn’t expect any reply.
    After a few seconds of silence, he glanced behind him then quickly turned the knob, but it resisted his pressure.
    He paused, not expecting to find it locked. Why would a servant lock his room?
    Quickly, Rees dug into his own pocket and took out his skeleton key. His palms starting to sweat, he slid it into the keyhole. He breathed a sigh of relief when it turned easily.
    He pushed the door open and peered into the crack. Finding the room empty, he entered and shut the door softly behind him, pocketing his keys. He’d have to make sure to lock the door behind him again.
    Taking a deep breath, he let his eyes roam more slowly around the perimeters of the narrow room, picking out the details. The first thing that struck him was how untidy it was.
    Like his own, this chamber had only enough room for an iron bedstead, narrow chest of drawers, and a corded trunk at the foot of the bed. Some wooden knobs on the wall opposite the bed held some aprons and clothes.
    The resemblance to his room ended there. The bed was unmade, dirty linen and aprons formed a pile in the middle of the floor, a stack of newspapers filled one corner of the room, the window facing the back of the house was grimy. Dirty plates and cups lay about.
    Wrinkling his nose against the stale smell of an unventilated room, he trod silently forward to the bed. He lifted the crumpled bedsheets and glanced down to the foot. Then he dropped them and felt the mattress through the sheets. Kneeling down, he lifted the straw-filledmattress and glanced under it. Trails of dust covered the floorboards visible through the ropes holding up the mattress. He let it fall and bent down to the ground and eyed the entire expanse of floor beneath the bed. Something caught his eye. Flattening his length, he reached out to the far end and grasped what looked like a corner of paper caught between the floorboards.
    It proved to be