Innocent by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online

apart.”
    Mrs. Meyers chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s been almost forty years since I’ve seen her side of twenty. How old are you, child?”
    “Almost eighteen.”
    “I was younger than you when I started working for the family.”
    “Really?”
    “Is your response because you can’t imagine that I’ve ever been young or that I’ve worked for the family that long?”
    I was ready to stammer out another apology when both she and the cook started to laugh.
    “Most of us have been here a long time,” Mrs. Meyers said.
    “I’m almost twenty years,” Nigel said as he turned away from the stove to face us. “Actually, she does look familiar to me as well.”
    I shrugged. “I guess I just have that sort of face.”
    “No, you don’t, but you do look familiar.”
    “Come on now, Elizabeth. We’ll get the table set for dinner.”
    For a split second I didn’t realize she was talking to me. I still wasn’t sure why I’d introduced myself to first James and then to her as Elizabeth Anne, but I had. For better or for worse, I was in a new town and I had a new name. Or, really, an old name, my real name.
    Mrs. Meyers handed me a tray filled with plates and cutlery. It was heavy, and I had to be firm in my grip. The last thing I wanted to do on my first day was break all these fine dishes.
    I followed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs—the servants’ stairs. They were steep and narrow and grooved from so much use, and I had to be careful where I stepped. At the top was a small landing, and she propped open a door that led directly into the dining room. I stopped and looked around in awe. It was gigantic—bigger than the dining area at the orphanage—with a high ceiling and dark, polished furniture. At the center of the room was a large table that had a dozen chairs tucked in around it.
    “Quite impressive, isn’t it?” Mrs. Meyers said.
    “Very. I’ve never been in a place like this before.”
    “Tomorrow I’ll take you for a tour of the entire house. It’s one of the most elegant homes in all of Kingston. Place the tray on the sideboard,” she ordered.
    I set it down carefully, making sure not to scratch the wood. I was relieved to have delivered it safely. I could only suspect, but I thought the plates on the tray might be worth much more than my monthly wages.
    “Watch what I do very carefully.”
    Mrs. Meyers set down plates, side plates, soup bowls, fine white napkins and a glistening array of cutlery. I didn’t understand why each person needed so many forks and spoons. Next, she put down a fine crystal glass beside each place setting.
    “There’s an etiquette as to how a table should be set,” she explained. “You’ll pick it up quickly.” She motioned for me to come closer, which I did. “This is Mrs. Remington’s spot, and things have to be very precise,” she whispered. “With her fading sight, it’s even more important that each thing, especially the glass, is in exactly the correct spot.” She nudged the glass over a touch.
    “How bad are—”
    Mrs. Meyers shushed me. “Her hearing is very good,” she whispered. “And she doesn’t like us talking about it. Her eyes…not so good and getting worse. Cataracts. Her eyes are all clouded over, poor dear, and then there’s a degenerative condition, something that can’t be fixed or cured.”
    She finished off the fourth place setting and went over to where we had entered the room, but I couldn’t see a door. She put her hand against a wall panel, and it popped open to reveal the passage we’d come through.
    “That’s clever,” I said.
    “There are many disguised doors in this house,” Mrs. Meyers said.
    “It’s like something from an old movie,” I said as we started down the steep stairs.
    “This house is full of little passages, hidden doors and rooms. Partly it’s to keep the servants out of sight. A good servant should be neither heard nor seen, but simply be there when needed.