“Do you like working for the Duchess?” Evelyn asked.
“I guess I like it well enough,” Molly Sue said. “I never worked anywhere else, so I don’t really know, but I’m not unhappy working here.”
“That’s a blessing,” Betty said. “I was very unhappy where I was working before. I went to the agency and asked to be placed somewhere else, ‘cause the youngest son kept cornering us. And how do you say, ‘Excuse me, Mr. Youngest Son, I’m not interested,’ ‘cause you don’t dare smack his face for bothering you. Now, that'll get you turned off in a hurry with no references. One of the girls did, cause...”
“That does sound like a miserable experience,” Evelyn cut in.
“Indeed, it does,” Molly Sue agreed. “I’ve heard that that happened in some of the big houses but nothing like that ever happened here. Well, maybe a little bit.”
“What do you mean, maybe a little bit?” Evelyn asked.
“Well the companion before you, she was somehow connected to the gentry, some kind of a daughter of a younger daughter, something like that. She thought she was better than all the rest of us, so when the Duke came over to have dinner with his mother, she’d get all dressed up in her best clothes and make sure that her bosom was showing just a little bit more than was proper. It didn’t take the Duchess long to show her the door.”
“Oh dear,” Evelyn said, “Perhaps that explains...” and then she caught herself before she could say anything she might regret.
Mrs. Smith cut in. “You had all best hope that Mrs. Henshaw doesn't hear you gossiping when you should be working. It will be dusting the attics for you for sure if you keep that up for she does not like idle chatter. Mrs. Swinton, was there anything else you needed from the laundry? Molly Sue, you’ve been told about gossiping before and no matter how many handbills are posted up in town you have no need to be talking about the Duchess or about the neighbors. Get along with all of you now, I have work to do, even if you don’t.”
As she walked away, Evelyn could not help but wonder why the handbills would be so important. Perhaps it was because the late Duke had been so interested in Hillsworth. Perhaps that made it of interest to everyone, or perhaps it was the mystery about the nephew’s disappearance.
When Evelyn entered the Duchess’ room she found Her Grace leafing through a stack of papers. Some of them were handbills and broadsheets, as well as a newspaper or two.
“Here, my dear,” said the Duchess, “could you read these out for me? The print is baffling to my eyes today.”
“Of course,” Evelyn said. “I would be glad to. Where would you like to start?”
“Why don’t you start with the handbills?” the Duchess said. “I always ask the footman who does the weekly purchasing to pick up the latest ones so that I will know what’s going on in the neighborhood.”
Evelyn obligingly picked up the stack of handbills and began reading them out. “Lost: Two piglets last seen foraging in local wood.”
The Duchess laughed. “That would be Mr. Jenkins. He always lets his pigs run wild. My guess is that the foxes got them.”
“Are there a great many foxes nearby?” Evelyn asked.
“There used to be a great many,” the Duchess said, “But during my father’s time we hosted fox hunts and that thinned them out. Of course, there is no telling what has occurred of late. My son does not care for hunting.”
“Does he not?” Evelyn commented. “I suppose he has other interests.”
“As nearly as I can tell,” the Duchess replied candidly, “his primary interests are his neckcloths, the fit of his coats, and, of late, he has evinced a desire for a new carriage.”
“Is that a disappointment to you, Your Grace?”
“Not entirely. He should take pride in his appearance. How else can one tell a Duke from a laborer? But I could wish that he focused his attention a little more on politics and what is going on in the world. Read on, Mrs. Swinton. Let us find out what else is going on in our small neighborhood.”
Evelyn picked up another handbill. “Reward for all kinds of snakes,” she read. ‘Garter snakes, puffers, adders, all kinds of snakes. The more deadly the snake, the greater the reward.’ That doesn’t sound like very much fun,” Evelyn commented.
Her Grace shook her head. “Indeed not,” she said. “I cannot imagine why anyone would be collecting snakes.”
“The fellow seems to be some sort of scientist,” Evelyn commented, picking up another handbill.
“Perhaps this would be of greater interest to you, Your Grace,” said Evelyn. “This seems to be a handbill posted by your neighbor, Mr. Rutley.”
“What in the world is he up to now?” the Duchess exclaimed.
“Reward,” Evelyn read, “5,000 pounds for word of The Earl of Hillsworth, 10,000 for his return. Tell him his estate misses him.”
“Well, indeed,” the Duchess chuckled, “after the boy has been missing for more than five years. Now he's looking for his nephew. I suppose he is getting tired of living on the proceeds from the estate and would like to get his hands on the principle.”
“Does this happen often?” Evelyn asked.
