Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

What impressed me was his posture, the firm way he held his shoulders and his back straight with his head high and regal. He turned toward me slowly as if every move, every gesture, had great

significance. He didn't smile. His eyes narrowed, darkening with thought, and he held his perfectly shaped lips tight. There was great discipline in his face, not a wrinkle, not a twitch or a movement giving his feelings away.

"This is Rain Arnold, the au pair my sister sent over from America," Great-aunt Leonora began. "She is here to study at the Burbage School of Drama. This is my husband Mr. Endfield, Rain," she continued.

"Hello," I said, still holding the tray filled with Yorkshire pudding. He didn't move his lips. He nodded slightly, still looking me over as closely as would a doctor.

"And this is Sir Isaac Dudley and Lady Dudley, Rain," she added.

A smile flickered on Sir Dudley's plump face, his thick, soft lips curling inward and over his teeth so completely, he looked toothless for a moment. His wife barely glanced at me. She looked down at the Yorkshire pudding Mary Margaret had placed before her instead.

"Rain just arrived today," Great-aunt Leonora announced.

Mary Margaret raised her eyes and indicated I should serve the Yorkshire pudding on my tray. Sir Dudley was eyeing it so covetously, he looked like he might reach up and take his serving himself if I didn't move. I quickly did.

"To the left," Great-uncle Richard muttered. My arm froze and I went around him to serve from the left. This close to him, I inhaled the mixed aroma of his rich aftershave and a recently smoked cigar. I could feel his gaze still locked on me. It made my hand shake as I put the dish down with a bit of a heavy clang.

As soon as I did, he looked up at me.

"I'm glad my sister-in-law had the good sense to choose a school in England for you over anything the colonies has to offer," he declared.

"Colonies?"

Sir Dudley chuckled. It sounded more like a cough.

"Pay no attention to him, Rain," Great-aunt Leonora said. "My husband thinks he is living in the past. He is still getting over the American

Revolution!'

"The world would have been much better off had there been none," he said. Everything he said seemed to be like some royal declaration. His voice was deep, his pronunciation so correct and sharp, you couldn't help but listen. "Your people certainly would have fared better," he added.

"My people?"

"Don't go on so the first time you've met her, Richard. You'll frighten the poor thing. She's just arrived."

"Here, here," Sir Dudley muttered.

Lady Dudley's eyes bored holes in me, but my Great-uncle Richard's gaze softened suddenly, his lips finally relaxing into almost a smile, his eyes taking on a more distant look. He was gazing directly at me, but I felt he was looking past me, focusing on some memory.

Then, he blinked and I could almost feel the click in his brain, the change in the direction of his thoughts. It was as if he woke up and realized I was still standing there. His gaze changed, his eyes drinking me in, moving from my head to my toes.

"Of course," he said. "I'm sorry. I welcome you to Endfield House and I hope your experience here and at the school will be enjoyable and beneficial."

"Here, here," Sir Dudley chanted. I wondered if he could think of anything else to say.

His wife turned to my great-aunt and asked her about the charity event to take place in Kensington Gardens. The subject of me was not very interesting to her any longer. I glanced once more at Great-uncle Richard who still had his gaze locked on my face, offered him a smile, and returned to the kitchen. I didn't realize until I entered it that I had been holding my breath the whole time. I blew out the air and took a deep breath.

"Well, well, she's made it through the first course," Mrs. Chester said with a chuckle.

When it was time,. Mary Margaret and I returned to the dining room to clear dishes and serve the afters. Sir Dudley wanted coffee, but everyone else had tea, and I remembered Great-uncle Richard was a mif. He looked impressed when I poured his milk in first and again made me nervous with his long, deep looks.

After we cleared the table and helped Mrs. Chester with the washing up, I was almost too tired to eat dinner. Despite Mrs. Chester's sarcastic ways, I couldn't deny she was a very good cook. We ate in the kitchen. While we ate, I heard the piano and looked at Mary Margaret.

"Who plays?" I asked her.

"Mrs. Endfield," she replied, looking up quickly at Mrs. Chester to see if she had done something wrong by telling me. Why was talking about anyone in this house so forbidden? I wondered.

Mary Margaret said she would take care of our dishes. She knew how tired I was. I thanked her and headed for my room.