Netherby Halls

“Nuthin’,” he answered. “Said more than I should have already.”

She pressed by disagreeing. “I haven’t noticed anything—the girls don’t seem neglected, and the food is quite good.”

“Course the food is good,” he cut in to scoff. “My missus sees to that.”

“Yes, that’s right, Cook is your wife.”

“Aye, and Molly and m’wife, well, they both be pretty special. Need this position. Had it for too long to lose it now.”

“Gunther,” Sassy said hopefully, “I have had a notion since I got here that something, I am not certain what, is not quite right at Netherby.”

He gave her a sideways glance, and when he spoke, it was conspiratorially. “Lookee ’ere, Miss, as I told ye, I love this place. His lordship even allowed me and the wife to be married on the grounds.” He shook his head. “In fact, we live in the stone cottage near the far end of the stables, and I don’t know where we would go if we got turned off, so what I am telling ye,”—he paused and eyed her grimly—“is not to be repeated.”

“I would never—”

“My Molly has been fretting over Miss Saunders, and m’girl is too smart by half. She loved her, ye see. Miss Saunders was teaching her on her own time, everything she taught the other girls.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Sassy’s hands came together as she smiled. “Someone like that wouldn’t just up and leave.” It sounds like Miss Graves was correct.

“Right ye be on that. Someone that dear doesn’t run off and leave, now does she?”

Sassy was chilled for a moment looking at his stern face. “What did the headmistress say about the matter?”

“I told her that I didn’t think that Miss Saunders ran off, and she told me to mind my work.”

“Could Miss Saunders have had a beau?”

“Just a poor lass like that? No, no beau. She never went anywhere, never had anyone call, and spent her spare time with us at the cottage, teaching Molly her lessons.”

“I see. What do you think happened, Gunther?”

“Nuthin’ good,” was his answer.

The rest of the ride into Bristol was spent in thoughtful silence. A strange mystery, indeed.

She shook her head to herself over the thought that someone at Netherby was up to no good—but what? Just what was going on at Netherby? Faith!

Finally, just as they were arriving on the outskirts of town, Sassy asked, “Did no one ever come inquiring about Miss Saunders? Was she all alone in the world?”

“An uncle came by, which is why m’Molly suspects foul play. Her uncle, a colonel, you see, received a letter from her just before she vanished. He wouldn’t tell us what was in it, though we told him we had become close. Upset he was. He came up because she asked him to. Now, that don’t make sense—why ask him to visit her and then leave before he gets here?”

“Odd. You are right, Gunther. This worries me,” Sassy said, now thoroughly convinced that Miss Saunders had come to harm.

They had by then arrived in the busier section of Bristol. As he maneuvered over cobbled streets, Sassy had a good look at the port town. Bristol was one of England’s thriving seaports, and many ships were in the harbor.

Sailors were everywhere, smiling at the ladies in the streets. The town pulsated with life and energy, merchants and servants all going about their business. She saw seamen dressed in well-worn navy wools and merchants with striped waistcoats.

The abolishment of the slave trade with the United States had been a favorite topic of her father’s and was a heated debate in Parliament. Bristol’s triangular trade—exporting to West Africa, picking up cargoes of black slaves there, and selling them to Americans—had made Bristol a thriving port, and its citizens were loathe to implement this new law. It remained for economic reasons a debate, and slave trading still flourished. Like her father, Sassy found the taking of slaves outrageously evil.

As they passed harbor streets filled with merchant ships loading their wares and making ready for their voyages to West Africa, Sassy remarked on the beauty of the great sailing ships.

“Aye, on the outside, but the devil’s tools, the lot of ’em,” Gunther remarked disgustedly.

He waved his arm at one ship in particular. “See that? They call her the Sea Winds. She carries slaves, she does. They bring her in from Africa, they do, and then ship her out to the colonies. My Molly, she ain’t wrong when she says slavery ain’t right, seeing as we’re all God’s children.”

“Oh no. I have never seen it firsthand. It is unthinkable what we humans do to one another. Horrible,” Sassy said, much distressed.

“That’s how this town goes on with such trade, and other things,” he said darkly.