Tales of Drysdale House (10)

Tale 10  A Lady eats an evening meal.

Anders, the slave girl Lena, and a strange man had been taken inside the confines Dragonwyck II, the sinister home of Vincent VanRijn. VanRijn, the man I had sworn to the Fricks I would help Anders assassinate. 

Not that the Fricks did not have reason enough to eliminate VanRijn. He had tried to run them off their Montana ranch by violence it the late spring, he had tried to extort them with a bogus lawsuit in mid-summer, and in late summer, he had sent his remaining assassin, a man known only as Fred to kill Wyandotte Frick, the head of the family. Incidentally, he had also tried to kill me.  
I am a lawful man. The law has been my guide. And I was skulking in the woods outside a man’s home to commit accessory to murder. I justified as a form of self-defense; the only way to live safely with my love, Juli. The only way for Wyandotte Frick to live safely and to take his place among the First Families of America. Since Juli and I had discovered the delights of a full commitment, one beyond most people on Earth, I had travelled some strange roads. Juli was not only my love; but my fully committed slave, branded by me, collared by me. Legally mine, forever. Legally under the laws of the European micro-country, the Grand-Duchy of Lutha and under the laws of the counter-Earth, the planet Gor, circling the sun in our orbit, but on the far side of sun, forever out or our view. Juli was mine, taken by the law of possession, I could have what I could take and hold. Master. My determination to do this landed me in strange and violent company.  Strange company for a patent attorney; necessary company to hold my love in complete possession.
Anders had gained entrance to the lair of the enemy. I was not expected to follow; but I knew that I had to find a way to gain entrance, just by the codes of the people with whom I was associated. I knew the keypad code to unlock the door; I had watched through the binoculars while the men of VanRijn had entered with Anders, Lena, and the unknown man. The only problem was that I could not get near the door. Anders had related that the best way to enter without being noticed was not to try to sneak in by night, but to walk up to the door as if I was expected. The only problem was that VanRijn’s men kept coming and going and would challenge me. I had in addition to a hunting knife, which would not be a huge problem, but a tomahawk given me as a present, which might not pass muster as a ordinary piece of equipment, but I was also carrying Anders’s crossbow, which definitely would be taken. I needed to get in unseen.  The day was coming to an end; I needed to find a way to get inside.
I circled around the grassy area around Dragonwyck. Maybe there was another entrance? After half an hour, I was on the other side of the house. There was a garage, and a door, but it had no keypad; just locks. As I continued to watch, the passage door by the garage door opened slowly. A young man peered out, then retreated inside. Shortly afterward, the two garage doors parted, opening up. The young man and an older one pushed an old pickup truck, about 1995 vintage, I guessed, out the door. Then the closed and locked the door. I saw something flash on the ground as the younger man put the keys back in his pocket. The two men pushed the truck down the drive, two women were in the cab, one was steering. Once away from the house, the road turned down a slight slope. The young man jumped into the box of the truck, the older one into the cab. It was only at the bottom of the hill as the truck was slowing down that the engine was turned on. The truck drive away slowly; it was only when some of the guards noticed the vehicle and began shouting that the truck speeded up and left, raising dust on the gravel road.
While their attention was distracted, I approached the door; it was indeed the garage keys that had fallen on the ground. I unlocked the door and entered. There were a couple of newer trucks and an SUV in the garage. At the back was a sort of loading dock and a door with a keypad. I locked the outside door, being careful not to drop the keys. I tried the keypad code that I had observed on the other side of the house. Would they use the same code? The door unlocked and I entered, I was not surprised that people who would use Six-Five-Four-Three-Two-One for their code would also use the same code for two different entrances.
I was in a large kitchen. There were three other doors. One lead to a corridor; one to a walk-in freezer, and one to an office. While I was in the office, I heard voices entering the kitchen. I hid in food pantry that opened off the office; there was a transom over the door, as was common in older houses. I listened.
“It looks like the last of the servants ran away, Captain. All four of them cleared out. With their head start we are unlikely to catch them.”
Lena had told us that the VanRijn security people were led by a Captain Cathcart and a subordinate, Montgomery. I continued to listen. The voices became closer, they entered the office.
“That’s inconvenient, Montgomery. Why now, I wonder?”
“Jackson was always rubbing up against the daughter, the chambermaid. Her old man, the butler didn’t like it. Jackson kept pointing out that with Lena as a “slave”, it would likely be the daughter next. They were a family, The Butler, the cook his wife, and the chambermaid.”
“Damn that Jackson! Why could he not keep his mouth shut?”  Captain Cathcart sounded angry and annoyed. “What was the young man, the handyman? Was he the girl’s boyfriend?
The other man, Montgomery, I assumed was placatory.
“Nope, her brother. All one cozy family group. They were the last of the servants.”
I heard a heavy weight settle into the desk chair.
“Well, Montgomery, it can’t be helped. This group of guys is rotating out in two days, until then we will have to manage the cooking somehow. The old man has had a gall-bladder attack, he won’t be eating much until tomorrow. These attacks usually only last a day. We got Lena back, that is something. She can serve Vansittart and VanRijn’s niece in the hall. We can tell the other guest, Holgar and the friend he met in the wood that they can rustle something up for themselves and Jackson can be put on kitchen duty for our guys. That will serve him right.”
“Yes, Captain. It should do for tonight. We can bring in a cook with the next rotation, and Lena can cook for Mr VanRijn and his guests. What about Mr Vansittart’s ‘guest’ down in the cells?”
I listened very intently for the answer. Barbara Quigley had told me her sister, Hannah, had gone to visit Vansittart about his accusation that they had not properly performed their due diligence on documents in VanRijn vs Frick case. She had not been seen since. Maybe she was the ‘guest’.
The captain’s voice answered.
“Lena can make her up some gruel when she cooks up her own. But no utensils. A clever girl like that might be able to make an escape or attack one of our people. And keep an eye on Lena too, that bitch caused us enough trouble by escaping once. We don’t want that happening again.”
I heard the door shut as they left the office. They left the light on. Sloppy. I heard their boots leave the kitchen. I waited fifteen minutes before I ventured out of the office. I did not think that they had the patience to wait any longer than that if they were setting a trap. When I went out into the kitchen, they were gone. VanRijn, it seemed, had used up his more competent people in the attack on the Lazy F. This crew were just contract replacements; and VanRijn was skimping on the quality. Not a surprise considering how much money the Fricks had fined them at the conclusion of VanRijn vs Frick.
While I had been waiting to be sure that Cathcart and Montgomery had left the kitchen I had looked around the office. Apparently, it had been shared by the Butler and the Cook, and both were very organized people. There were schedules for cleaning, for the maintenance tasks the handyman carried out, and the tasks assigned to the chambermaid. In the Butler’s files I found something even more useful, plans of the house, including some back passages for servants to move unseen by the ‘quality’, the owners. Very interesting and useful. I put those in my pack. I needed to get out of the kitchen before Jackson and Lena arrived to start preparing dinners that the departed servants would no longer be making.
The entrance to the servant’s passage out of the kitchen was not obvious, not well hidden, but someone who wasn’t looking for it, would not find it. I decided to see if I could find Vansittart and this mysterious niece of VanRijn’s.

*

I found them in what was labelled on the Butler’s plan as the Great Hall. Like the whole of Dragonwyck, it was built in a gothic revival style. It was a grand three-story room, with massive fireplaces at each end. The walls were carved wood; there were staircases at each corner leading to balconies at the second and third levels. There were doorways with pointed arches by the staircases that presumably led to the wings of the building. At one end of the room was a large carved dining table. I was sure it would seat twenty. The servant’s passage had a painted screen that looked like wood from the Hall side, it would allow the servants to know when they should not intrude. I listened as Vansittart entered from one of the doors on the second floor. There was a young woman, about twenty-five, in a green gown waiting, sitting at the head of the table.
Vansittart came down the stairs and walked to the head of the table, where the young woman sat.
“Good evening, Miss VanRijn. Why are sitting in your uncle’s place? That seems bold.”
“Great uncle. Vincent VanRijn is my great-uncle. My twin, Nicolas, and I are Uncle Vincent’s only living relatives. As to why I am sitting at the head of the table, not that it is any business of yours. My uncle is ill; his gallstones are hurting him. He is having milk and soft bread in his room. Usually, these attacks clear up overnight. He should be down for luncheon tomorrow.”
Her voice dripped bored condescension, a quality generally acquired at a finishing school for the daughters of the generationally rich. She would scratch from boredom, like a lazy cat. There was cruelty there. She and Chelsea Frick would size each other up in the seconds. There would be comparisons of relative wealth and standing to find the exact social place of each. Chelsea Frick though, was ten times more vital, she had less casual cruelty, and more directed malice. Chelsea’s vitality was why I yearned to have her in my collar. I shook my head. I must forget Chelsea for now. She was a Frick, from a dangerous family indeed. But if she ever slipped……
Vansittart took the seat to Miss VanRijn’s right.
“Nicola, may I call you Nicola? Where are Mr Svenson and his friend? I hear he met a friend in the woods.”
“That is Ms VanRijn to you, we are not friends or social acquaintances, but you are just my uncle’s lawyer. I understand you messed up badly, and are trying to get back on uncle’s good side.”
Vansittart half rose from his chair. The carved wooded legs scraped on the marble flagstones of the Hall. Even through the screen I could see that his face was red and angry. His voice was raised.
“I did not mess up. It was not my fault. It was those lazy bitches in Pittsburgh, the Quigley sisters. They caused the problem.”
“Sit down Vansittart. Uncle was not at all convinced that the fault lay with the Pittsburgh lawyers. He said that Barbara Quigley came highly recommended. She is said to be thorough and diligent.”
Vansittart was sitting again. He was getting angrier.
“The recommendations must have come from men she was sleeping with. The slut likely does her best work on her back. How dare she blame me for the loss. It was not my fault.”
Nicola VanRijn looked angry now too.
“Language, Vansittart. Remember there is a lady present.”
I could see that Nicola was enjoying this. Her anger was mostly feigned, though there was something under the surface that suggested strong emotion.
Before Vansittart could choke out an apology, there was a knock at the door and one of the security guards came in, leading Lena on a chain. Interestingly, even though she was to serve at the table, she had not been given any clothes. She was as naked as she had been when Anders and I encountered her in the forest. Nicola VanRijn looked up from the table and smiled at the security guard. He was a muscular young man with a thick head of curly brown hair. His uniform was tight across his chest. He was tall. Nicola did not say anything about Lena’s lack of clothing.
“Yes, Jackson. Is dinner ready?”
“Yes, ma’am. Lena here will serve. She will return with the soup. Lena has been a bad girl, she made a run for it earlier. She was returned by a friend of Mr Svenson.

Nicola VanRijn was practically purring. She did like to toy with the weak and defenseless. She looked poor Lena up and down. Lena was barefoot, wearing only a collar with a light chain that hung down between her breasts and a third of the way to her knees. She looked badly frightened.
“Has she been punished? I don’t see any marks on her. Surely she should have been punished.”
“Not yet, ma’am.” Thomas was grinning; clearly the idea of punishing Lena made him happy. “Your uncle, Mr VanRijn has yet to pass sentence. She will be punished tomorrow.”
Nicola’s grin was not a pleasant one. Her voice was husky.
“I would like to see her punished. And I would like to see you punish her. You would do that for me, won’t you Jackson. Promise me you will punish her properly.”
“Yes ma’am. I will punish her. For you, ma’am.”
They were flirting while discussing punishing Lena. If Vansittart had not been present, Jackson would likely be fucking her on the table by now. But he only turned, and slapped Lena on her ass.
“Bring in the soup, Lena.”
Jackson left while Lena went to bring in the soup. She pushed in a rolling cart that had a china tureen on it. Lena carefully put the tureen on the table, then ladled soup into bowls for Nicola and Vansittart. Then she went to the door and knelt until she was called on.
Vansittart sipped his soup, then said to Nicola.
“ ‘There’s a lady present, watch your language’, my eye. Shouldn’t a lady object to a naked server?”
“She belongs to my uncle. She is dressed according to his dictates. Uncle sees no reason to waste money on clothing someone who is not to go outside. As to her nakedness, it suits her. She is not an equal, barely a person. Some women are fitted to be slaves. Under the terms of the VanRijn Patroonship, issued in 1630 or so by the Estates of Holland, and never repealed with the others we are permitted to keep slaves. Uncle explained it to me.”
Vansittart shook his head. “I don’t think that would hold up in law.”
Nicola dropped the sickly sweet tone she had used  when describing Lena. She leaned closer to Vansittart. She was sure of herself as she lectured.
“Don’t lecture me on law. Your legal case cost Uncle Vincent a lot of money. A lot. He has cut my allowance. I need him to increase it not cut it. So don’t give me legal advice.”
Vansittart shook his head.
“It was the Quigley women that cost your uncle. I don’t think you can keep slaves.”
Lena leaned back in her chair.
“We will see. Uncle is not convinced it was the Quigleys. Jackson tells me you whipped the Quigley in our basement and she didn’t confess. Jackson also tells me that you couldn’t hit her very hard because you are old and weak.”
Listening behind the screen, I felt sorry for Hannah Quigley. I remembered her as a bubbly happy girl, she seemed proud to be working with her older sister on a big case. My task was to erase Vincent VanRijn though, not rescue Hannah Quigley. Vansittart was arguing with Nicola. He stopped for a second while Lena brought the fish course. Nicola commented as Lena walked away to prepare the next course.
“She has a nice tight bum. Lots of exercise walking in the woods no doubt. I bet she’s tight when a man uses her too. Not that Uncle will let you try her though.”
Nicola’s voice was cruel. She would take as much delight in throwing Lena to the guards, as she would in denying her use to Vansittart. She cut off his reply.
“A lot of colonial era charters are being upheld. Look at the respect given to old Spanish Land Grants for example. There is no reason why our ability as VanRijns to hold some slaves on our property should not be upheld as well. Society is changing, and when attitudes change, the interpretation of the law changes. The rise of New Feminism is changing the position of working women, not that it affects me. And there is an undercurrent in society that seems to support returning to indentured females, randy low-class females subordinated to men, in a word on the road back to female slavery. I don’t know where it is coming from, but I hear it from a lot of my friends. And not only Bannons and Emerys and such, but some from England too. ‘the times they are a-changing’ Mr Vansittart. And when the times change, laws change.
Anyway, you should be worrying about convincing Uncle tomorrow that the problem was the Quigleys and not you.”
Nicola and Vansittart sniped at each other throughout what was left of the dinner, but didn’t reveal anything of note. I waited until they had left to take their coffee in small lounge and Lena had cleared the table. I then checked an interesting feature that the Butler’s plans indicated that the great Hall possessed and went in search of Hannah Quigley.

*

Nicola VanRijn’s and Vansittart’s conversation had given me an idea of where to look for the unfortunate lawyer. From looking at the plans, I knew that this Dragonwyck II, like the original in the Hudson Valley had cells, or really dungeons where prisoners could be confined. The original VanRijns had the power to dispense their own justice, and that meant dungeon cells for outlaws, tenants who would not pay their exorbitant rents, new husbands who would not allow the Patroon the right of the first night, poachers and others who offended against the VanRijns. The plans told me where to go, the servants’ passages allowed me to get there unseen, and the keys allowed me to unlock and lock doors.
I looked through the peephole before entering the corridor. I saw Lena standing in front of a thick wooden door with a bowl in her hands. She set it down and pulled back a bolt securing the door. She entered and shortly came out without speaking. As she pushed the bolt into place locking the door, I came up behind her and placed a hand over her mouth.
“It’s Patrick. I was with Anders this afternoon. Are you all right?”
I turned her around and as I was removing my hand from her mouth, I saw that she was about to scream. I stopped her by kissing her fiercely, holding her body close to mine. When I released her, she was panting. Before she could gather her wind to scream, I quickly said,
“I am Anders’s friend. How is he. And how are you. Will you be all right until Anders and I can act tomorrow?"
She nodded and I held her close while she sobbed silently. After a bit, she seemed calmer.
“I can last. Now I have hope, I can last. Master Anders promised he would take me away from here. So I can hold out. What are you doing here?
Speaking quietly, I told her something of what had happened but by no means all. I did not let Lena know that I could travel through the servants’ passages, nor that I had heard Nicola, Jackson, and Vansittart plot her punishment. I did tell her that I had seen the servant family depart. Lena nodded at that.
“Anders told them that they should go. He warned them against Jackson and Montgomery too. Those two almost got into a fight about the daughter, the chambermaid.”
She fingered her collar.
“We heard them, that is Jackson and Montgomery, planning to make her like me, you know, like what they did to me. So he told them to get out while they could. He mentioned what they peasants had done to the real Dragonwyck, the one back East. They said they had seen the movie. I don’t know what movie, but they were glad to be out of here. I would be so glad to be out of here too. Anders said he would take me away.”
I kissed her again hard. I did not let her go until I was ready. She was gasping. During the kiss I had pleased myself by stroking one of her breasts. I promised myself once Anders had taken her away from here, I would have more pleasure from her. Anders is a man of Gor, I do not think he will take her out of her collar once he takes her away from here.
“Oh sir, I wish I had more time, but I must get back to the kitchen, or they will get suspicious and Anders will not be able to take me away from here.”
I felt her bum as she pushed herself slowly away and went up the stairs. I then pulled back the bolt and entered the cell of Hannah Quigley.