The Good Man

Chapter 3 Here's Mud-Pies

"Up! Up! Up!" The head maid yelled and started slamming on doors. Already-awake maids and servants began to flee from their homes like forest creatures at the end of winter. All of them seemed to be possessed by a nervous energy to be used only through work.

Nimbly was permitted to sleep in an extra hour, on account of David's condition, though he woke with the rest of the bunch thanks to the pounding and yelling from the hall. He lifted himself from bed groggily, rubbing his face and tugging his hair and beard into order. He was determined to dress before the day started, and acted on unpacking his personal effects from his leather bag while the house stirred.

Nimbly's hands skimmed over papers at the bottom of his bag and slowly lifted them out, looking over them with a careful eye to ensure they had not been damaged in any way. They were two stacks of letters, with names of two men, one stack never sent by Nimbly and the other treasured gifts given to him. These were his most sentimental items and most dangerous clues, and he treated them like precious gems, checking his new home over twice for a spot to hide them. Eventually, he stuck them in a hidden corner of his wardrobe, underneath a folded walking coat.

"Nimbly! Time to eat!" Nathan broke into the valet's room as Nimbly had half of his pants on, one leg through a hole.

"Knock first, would you?" Nimbly warned, visibly shocked, yanking his pants onto himself. "I would never wish for a poor maid to see me in nothing but my knickers!"

"Oh, what is up with you? Are you always so early?" Nathan decided to complain about Nimbly, closing the door as he entered the room. "I was hoping for a good morning fright."

"I am always early because to be late would to be a tarnish on myself." Nimbly buttoned his pants on and fixed them around his waist, tucking his shirt in.

"Don't be so dramatic!" Nathan huffed. "A tarnish on you? For being late? No one here believes you will last long, so why don't you just act out?"

"I never would have expected this from you, especially as upfront as on the second day." Nimbly frowned at the man, who had begun to look through Nimbly's things. "Please leave my room. You will be finding me acting my best at all times."

"Oh, I'm sure you will." Nathan headed for the door with long, slow, dramatic steps. "Don't turn this into a pigsty, farmer." He smirked and slipped out the door.

Nimbly grunted softly to himself, "What is ever the matter with these people?" His hands went to his coat and he began to get dressed, shoes, gloves, and cufflinks last. Unfortunately, his cufflinks were no longer on his dresser.

"Damn that man...." Nimbly cursed quietly, going to his wardrobe and bringing out his Sunday cufflinks. He was off to breakfast with a sour face.

"Mr. Nimbly, what ever is the matter?" The head maid crossed her arms. "I should hope you never show that face to our master."

Nimbly fixed his expression. "Do forgive me madame, I just seem to have had my usual cufflinks stolen by that butler, Nathaniel."

"Nathaniel? You must be delirious trying to accuse that boy of anything." The head maid unfolded her arms and laughed, a hand on her chest. "Perhaps you misplaced them. When would he have had the time to take them?"

"He was in my room, not but five minutes ago." Nimbly supplied his case, though he could tell that taking with the woman would be fruitless. "Nathan went through my things. Though, I can tell you may not put any worth to my words."

"Of course not! Why should I? You are nothing but a new disposable valet, and Nathan is one of our finest footmen." She gestured to the breakfast table. "Now, I will hear nothing more about him being a thief from you. Eat and go serve your lord."