Treasured

45)

My heart pounded as I closed the library door. Aunt Matilda had asked me to fetch a book for her, since Mr. Kendrick was busy fawning over his fiancee, and Richard was turning sheet music for Celia. I wanted nothing more than to escape, and this was a perfect moment.

My fingers trembled as I drew the slip of paper out of my pocket, eyes scanning the thin strip in seconds. I found it strange, yet...enticing. I licked my lips, rereading the message once more.

Study, 4:00 P. M, tomorrow afternoon.

Don't be late. You'll want to hear everything.

That was all that was enclosed, but it sent my head spinning. There were two reasons to break into the study now, and both seemed urgent. Thankfully, I had the beginnings of a plan.

I snatched the book Aunt Matilda had requested, and limped back to the drawing room. I felt a bit feverish, although I knew it was only nerves. But it would only help me on the morrow if I played it up. I handed the book to my Aunt, feigning exhaustion, knowing she couldn't resist her own theatrics.

"Wren, dear, are you quite alright?" She pretended to worry.

I nodded my head, though I made sure she saw my quivering fingers, and my flushed face. Her hand quickly cupped my cheek and she gasped loudly, trying to attract attention without being obvious.

"You feel warm, Wren. And you look pale except for this feverish color," Aunt Matilda fretted, slyly looking at Mr. Kendrick out of the corners of her eyes. "I'll send for Maria and have her turn down your bed. You mustn't play the hero. Your delicate health won't permit it."

"Is he really unwell?" Richard frowned, coming closer to inspect me.

I was nervous, which in this case, helped me. My fingers shook, sweat beaded along my upper lip and my brow, my skin paled although my cheeks burned bright, and a shiver up my spine finished the picture. I was nothing but a poor, sick, orphan boy, and my family was doing their duty and being attentive.

My Aunt leaned closer, ringing the bell for Maria, and I took my chance. her dress was wide, and held no pockets, but I knew the study key and the spare were usually on her person.

I sagged, dizzily looking at the ceiling, and forced my Aunt to catch me in her arms, or let me fall to the ground. I rolled my eyes as far as they would go, and lightly convulsed, hands jerking and twitching as they hung about her neck.

In seconds, a lightly twined piece of leather and a slender key were in my hand, nicely coiled and without my Aunt's notice. Richard's brow was creased, Annette had rung again for the maid, Celia was in hysterics, and my Aunt was in a tizzy, yelling for someone to get the doctor.

I caught Mr. Kendrick's eye as I was gently laid back against the cushions, and noticed the edge of a smile creeping out. My attack seemed to be dying down, and I carefully "fainted". The key was deftly slipped into my waistcoat pocket as my Aunt adjusted my limbs, and then I was being lifted.

"Sir, do you not want assistance?" Mr. Kendrick offered.

"No. Wren's as light as a feather," Richard denied him. "I'm going to bring him to his room, and wait for the doctor there."

"Let me at least help with the doors and his boots!" Mr. Kendrick insisted.

"Oh, James, you are too kind!" Annette breathed, completely smitten.

"Not at all," Mr. Kendrick said ironically.

Mr. Kendrick was my saving grace for the second time that night, coming up with several good excuses to keep both Richard and I company while we waited for the physician. Mr. Kendrick even took my coat and boots off, while Richard wiped my brow with a cool cloth and Maria bustled about, noticably worried about my "fit".