When Jack and I left the stables the sun had set. We walked slowly back to the manor, all the while I was deliberating whether or not I should tell Jack about my brief conversation with Noah.
“Jack,” I began slowly, “How long will Noah Forsythe be staying?”
Jack’s mouth twitched, “Usually for a few weeks at a time.”
“Oh.”
Jack glanced at me. He knew there was more I wanted to say.
I sighed, “Is he much like the rest of his family?”
Jack rolled his eyes, “Yes, so don’t even get your hopes up.”
“My what? Hey.” I frowned, “No hopes are getting high here, thank you very much.”
Jack scoffed, “Yeah whatever, Redding.”
I folded my arms and pursed my lips.
Jack shook his head, “The whole family is the same. If anything, I’d say Noah is the worst of the lot. Stuck-up, arrogant, pompous gits. We’re nothing more than a crutch for them to lean on. Then they ignore us as if we aren’t there.”
“Yeah, except they pay us to pretend we’re not there.” I smirked.
“True.” Jack smiled, “Why do you ask anyway?”
“Oh. He seemed nice is all.”
Jack stopped dead in his tracks. It took me a second to realise he had fallen behind. I turned to look at him curiously.
“He didn’t speak to you, did he?” Jack demanded.
“I-what?”
“When you went to his room, did he speak to you?” Jack repeated; his voice angry.
I thought it best to lie, “No. No, of course not.” My face flushed. I was an awful liar, “Well, I mean, he told me to put the food on the table, and said thank you.” I skipped over the entire middle part.
“Is that all?”
“Uh-huh.” Was all I could manage.
Jack stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat and huffed, “Good.” He muttered and continued walking with me.
This gave me much to consider. Why would Jack be so alarmed at the thought of Noah Forsythe talking to me? It wasn’t as though I had struck up the conversation with him. He had asked me direct questions which I simply could not ignore. Jack had also said that Noah was the worst out of all the Forsythe’s. I found it very hard to believe. He was handsome, and kindly it seemed. I had to stop myself before my thoughts run amok again.
“Do me a favour.” Jack said as we reached the back entrance. He looked serious. An expression so rarely seen on his comical face.
“Okay.” I agreed.
“Don’t find yourself alone in a room with Noah Forsythe.”
I woke early as usual the next morning. My sleep had been restless because I had grown so used to Hawthorne’s presence. My bed felt empty and depressing. I couldn’t wait til I got a break today so I could visit him in the stables. Yawning and stretching I began to dress into my uniform. Today seemed especially cold, for a thick layer of mist was pressing against my singular little window. I crossed the room and tried to wipe the glass free of residue. I peered out but I couldn’t see anything further than fifty meters. I huffed; the manor would be especially cold today so I had better get cracking on those fires.
I was about to move from the window when something caught my eye. The mist had shifted somewhat, and I could make out a lone figure standing at least seventy meters from the manor. This figure was deathly thin and dressed completely in black. It stood as still as a statue, staring at the manor. Staring at me. I couldn’t be sure from this distance, but I would bet my monthly wages that Seth Swaggart was standing in the manor grounds, watching. Or perhaps waiting for something. Someone. Perhaps I was being paranoid. This guy was obviously an absolute nutter. Besides, no one could hurt me here. Could they?
I gave myself a little shake and forced the bad thoughts from my mind. I decided that I was probably imagining things, and it wasn’t even Seth Swaggart. I wasn’t vain enough to think he was stalking me.
However, at lunch time while I was on a brief break, Jack and I made our way to the stables. I had forgotten all about the strange figure I had seen in the mist. Halfway there, Jack slowed his walk to a dawdle, looking into the nearby trees that surrounded the back of the grounds. The mist was thick there and visibility was awful.
“It can’t be.” He muttered.
“What?” I asked looking around, wondering what he had seen.
“I-It’s nothing.” He shrugged, “I thought I saw someone.”
I bit my lip. Forget about it, I told myself, you’re being paranoid.
We entered the stables and to my surprise Hawthorne wasn’t in his stall, but following Camryn around briskly. He had several of the Pegasi rugs draped over his back so the sides were dragging along the ground. Every now and then Camryn would pause next to a Pegasus, take one of the rugs from Hawthorne and place it on the steed. It looked as though he were helping her with the chores. I grinned as I watched him follow Camryn around to three more Pegasi, carrying the rugs for her, while she fitted them.
“Well, well.” I said folding my arms, “Glad to see he’s pulling his weight.”