I nodded. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. They’ve got a key to my room. Do you have a spare lock to replace it?”
Harrison’s face clouded over. “You need to tell Madame Usher.”
“I did. She didn’t want to hear it, so I guess I’m on my own.”
“I’m making a trip into town tomorrow.” Harrison dropped a stack of salmon fillets into the freezer. “I’ll bring you back a new lock. Victor never tolerated their bad behavior, but the Madame lets them get away with…”
Murder, he was about to say. And a thought niggled at me – that the students weren’t the only ones who wanted me gone from Manderley. If Madame Usher wanted me to leave without getting her hands dirty…
I thought of Titus standing over me in the darkness while I slept, and those footsteps pacing back and forth across the room. A horrible thought hit me – he admitted to being in my room, but Titus couldn’t have possibly made those footsteps.He’d been outside with the others. I saw him…
The thought left an unsettled feeling in my gut. “Harrison, tell me straight – am I in danger here?”
“You be careful, especially of that Dorien Valencourt. He’s her pet.” Harrison looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, he slammed the lid of the freezer down and scurried away, like he couldn’t bear to be in the big house a moment longer than necessary.
I dressed a shoulder of pork, covered it in foil, and whacked it in the oven to slow cook for dinner while I tossed vegetables in truffle oil and grilled the salmon steaks. When I carried lunch into the dining room, Dorien was on his feet again, pouring the wine. He started with the Master and worked his way around the table. I needed to cross his path to set down the platters.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled under my breath. I balanced four plates in my hands. They were much heavier than his wine bottle.
Dorien pretended he didn’t hear me, shifting his body so I ended up doing an awkward dance to get around him. As I stepped toward the master, Dorien stuck out his foot. I tripped, splattering juicy steaks and salad across the pristine tablecloth.
“Ew.” Heather leaped back, clawing at her head. “She got tomato in my hair.”
“Ms. de Winter,” Madame Usher boomed. “Clean this up at once.”
“But—”
“Not another word.” Madame Usher stood up and held out her plate. “Salvage what you can. We will take our lunch in the drawing-room while you deal with the mess you made.”
Fuming in silence, I scooped meat and salad back onto the platters, handing one to her and the other to Elena. I tried to meet the Romanian girl’s eyes, but she kept her chin held high. She might not actively participate in whatever the Muses had planned for me, but she certainly went along with it.
By the time I’d scrubbed at the tomato stains on the rug and put the tablecloth on to soak, they’d polished off the food. They hadn’t left a single piece for me. I grabbed an apple from the kitchen. While the others spread out across the practice spaces, I got a mop and bucket out of the storage cupboard and cleaned the bathrooms on both floors, then moved on to scrubbing the marble tiles of the Red Room until they shone. I dusted down all the antiques so the place would be perfect for Andrei Solokov’s visit.
My chores done, I returned to my room and practiced for two hours. I chose Bartok’sViolin Concerto No.2for my audition piece – I’d been wrapping my head around the fiery, conflicted music for the last year. When Bartok composed the concerto in the lead-up to the First World War, he was being attacked in his native Hungary for his anti-Fascist views, and the concerto reflects his frenzied state of mind. It perfectly matched my mood after learning about Titus’ invasion of my privacy, and the fact that his confession didn’t explain all the noises I heard. By the end of my practice, the notes hummed in my veins. I knew I played the piece with heart, with fire, and I’d give all three Muses a run for their money.
Back down in the kitchen, I roasted some vegetables and maderotkohl– red cabbage, cloves, bacon, and apples. A recipe handed down from my German grandmother on my father’s side. We never saw her after my dad disappeared – I didn't know if it was too painful for Mom or if she suspected Grandma knew something she hadn’t revealed. It was no big loss – the best thing about Grandma had been her cabbage. The bitter woman died a few years ago. We didn’t go to the funeral.
Tension crackled in the air as I served dinner, with less joking between the students than normal.Of course, tonight they weren’t friends, but rivals.No one spoke to me, but Ivan kept sneaking glances at me between bites – those intense icicle eyes sweeping over my face. His expression never changed – I had no idea what he was thinking, and it both terrified and angered me. The skin on my neck prickled with nerves, and I kept looking over my shoulder, certain there was some horror about to be visited upon me from behind.
Dinner finished in record time. I hurried to stack the dishwasher while the others went upstairs to change clothes and tune their instruments. By the time I arrived in the Blue Room – the largest of the practice spaces – sweaty and still wearing my wool dress, six perfectly groomed students lounged on all the available chairs, carefully avoiding acknowledging me.
I stood awkwardly beside the sideboard, trying to avoid looking anywhere near the guys. Madame Usher poked her head in. “The Master and I won’t be a moment. Faye, pour us all a glass of port. It calms the nerves.”
I went to the liquor cabinet and found the port decanter and eight glasses. I splashed a generous slug of the dark liquid into each glass and arranged them on a silver tray. The door opened, and Master Radcliffe walked in. As I held the tray out to him, Dorien slid his foot across the rug and kicked my ankle. I went down hard, the tray flying from my hands and splattering sticky port all over Master Radcliffe.
Chapter Fourteen
Faye
The Master frowned at the red stain dripping down the front of his silk shirt. “I must change clothes.”
He flounced from the room, leaving me alone with my six enemies. Heather no longer bothered to hide her laughter behind her hand. Aroha let out a booming roar that got Titus going, and soon Dorien was chortling, too. Elena and Ivan stared at the floor, apparently unmoved by it all.
Dorien pointed to the port stain on the floor. “Clean that up,” he commanded.
I made the only possible response to such a request. I flipped him off.
“You’re the servant. Do your duty. If that’s not gone by the time Madame Usher returns, you’ll pay.”
