Everlast

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Monica's eyelids fluttered as the sun rays casted over her bed. Eyes sore but dried stared at the morning sun. Sitting up, with stiff back muscles she inhaled deeply with the crumpled note in her hands. Putting the note away in the top chest draw she decided to move on.

She started by washing her face, free from grime and grief. Wearing a day dress in bright crimson, she restyled her hair into a low bun and left her room. Greeted but her anxious servants she told them nothing of her exchange with John Clare. In fact she didn't mention him as she read the newspapers, sipping on her morning tea.

Dot went through the appointments, told her about Neal's arrest after finding some undisputed evidence and a confession from Simon about overhearing to frame John. Also George's impatient behaviour entered her list.

Dot cleared the breakfast food away as Monica put on her outdoor coat and gloves. Leaving her estate she went to Miguel's cottage. Mary was working in the apple farms.

"How are you feeling?"

Miguel lay on his bed, a frayed blanket covered his chest. The fire place burned wood.

"Just recovering Señorita," he replied sitting up slowly. "Have you seen John?"

She solemnly nodded. "He had to leave."

"But he did nothing wrong?" Miguel said, shaking his head. "He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

"Sometimes it's the only way."

"Where did you go Miss Everlast?"

"I went to London for two days but didn't realise how long it would take. Didn't anyone inform you?"

"No, we were told by Mr Castle that you just left." He closed his eyes in thought. "Told us you were irresponsible; of course nobody believed him. He tried to take over, demanding things to be done in a proper way."

"You know for a moment I nearly forgot my responsibilities." She stood placing her hat on her head. "I hope you make a swift recovery."

"Miss Everlast, do you think John will ever come back?"

She halted by the door, not turning back. "One day, but not today."

Leaving Miguel's, she found her workers, telling them nothing out of the ordinary, going through the quotas and responsibilities. They were glad of their mistress's return and worked diligently.

Later in the evening, Monica sat in her office, checking and making lists for her business, anything to keep her mind in focus. Inspecting her diary, circling her notes, a tray of biscuits and Darjeeling tea appeared on the table. Peering up, Stephan placed the set and took a step back.

"What is this in aid of?" she asked, not smiling.

"I want to apologies Miss Everlast." Stephan mumbled, looking at his feet. "It was Neal's idea and he bullied me into it. I am ashamed."

"And you should be," she remarked. "And you ought to be fired for what you have done. It must be your lucky day Stephan because I believe in giving people second chances. That doesn't mean however you go about disrespecting what I believe in. Is that clear?" She peeped at the tray. "Am I expecting a guest at this late hour?"

He nodded quickly. "Mr. Castle is outside."

"Bring him in," she said rolling her eyes.

After a moment George limped towards her, cane tapping every step. He sat opposite her.

"And what kind of complaint do we have today? She closed her diary.

"Your disappearance so to speak," he stated. "Mind telling your cousin why you left?"

"Does it really matter," she huffed. "I'm back now and overseeing the work."

He poured the tea. "Where is Mr Clare?"

She noted a change in her cousin. Usually he never made an attempt to be of such service. He handed her the cup.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "Most likely he left to find other work."

"Hmm," he said, stirring the sugar. "Strange is it not? You invested such time in him and he just up and left, no consideration whatsoever."

"Why are you talking about Mr Clare?" She sipped on her tea. "After all you didn't want him here."

He smirked. "Precisely, I am rather happy that he is gone."

Twitching her nose she finished the tea. George put his cup on the table and sat back. Monica stood, but the ground gave way, her head swarming, vision hazy.

"What have you done to me?" She moaned, pressing a finger to her temple. "Help!"

He wiped his dry mouth with his fingers. "No use in calling for help. Everyone is having such a pleasant time sleeping. And so should you."

Monica's eyelids fought against her. Sweating from her neck and forehead she tried to move. She slid to the floor, dragging her numbing weight to the door. He stepped over her, tapping the door with his cane. A click of the door locked them in.