Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"My brother probably has it easier in the army," I told Mary Margaret.

I didn't need Boggs looking over my shoulder to clean a bathroom properly. I had done it enough times in my life, but he managed to find places I didn't get to, places I never imagined anyone would look at or care about anyway. He appeared to have a good supply of fresh white gloves. Every time he found some dirt or grime, he showed it to me or to Mary Margaret and then replaced his glove to inspect again and again.

With him snapping a whip like a slave master, it took much longer than I had anticipated to complete the morning chores. When I was finally finished, I had barely enough time to get back to my room and change my clothes, much less fix my hair the way I had wanted it before Randall arrived.

I rushed back to the front of the house only to confront Boggs once again.

"There's a young man waitin' on you," he said. "Anyone who comes to see a servant waits outside," he added. "Next time be here to greet 'im yourself."

"I would have if I hadn't had to locate every particle of dust in this house," I muttered.

"Just do your job properly and save your complaints," he returned.

I couldn't wait to get out of the house. Just being in the same room with him made me choke and ray lungs ache as if there was a lack of oxygen.

Randall was standing on the driveway, trying to look at ease. Who knew what Boggs had said to him? I thought.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting out here. I just found out that's one of the house rules, guests of servants aren't permitted to wait inside." I glared back at the front door. "I'm lucky he lets me breathe."

"That's all right. It's a nice enough day," he said and stood there gazing at me so intently, I couldn't help but be self-conscious about the way I looked.

He was wearing a light cotton turquoise sweater, a white shirt and jeans. The turquoise made his eyes even more radiantly blue. There was a soft breeze that made some thin strands of his brown hair lift and fall over his forehead.

"I probably look a mess," I said running my hand over my hair. "With that ogre standing over me, it took longer than I anticipated to finish the housework. I had to rush to get dressed."

I had put on a pair of jeans and a button-down short-sleeve blouse. On the way out of the room, I grabbed my light-blue leather jacket. Now, it felt too heavy, but I dreaded going back into the house. Boggs would probably be standing in the hallway, waiting to quote some rule about entering and leaving more than once a day, if you were a servant.

"You look great," Randall said, flashing his soft smile. He nodded to reassure me he meant it.

I did have the feeling that when he said something, he really meant it. There was a quality of freshness and innocence about him. I didn't sense that edge, that harder, wiser and even tougher outlook on life that I had seen in most of the boys I knew. He wasn't afraid or insecure enough to want to shade every remark, guard every look. He looked as if he was doing everything for the very first time, too.

He dug into his back pocket and brought out a brochure that he opened and held out for me to read.

"This lists the must-see attractions. We're here," he said pointing to the map. "We should go first to Buckingham Palace and then we can go up to Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery. What time do you have to be back?" he asked and suddenly a small alarm went off inside me.

Was I supposed to be back for dinner or did I get some tim

e off? My great-aunt hadn't told me and I certainly didn't feel like asking Boggs.

"I don't know," I said.

His smile froze.

"What do you mean?"

"I never told Mrs. Endfield where I was going. I don't know if she expects me here later to help with the dinner. I'm sorry," I said. "I'll have to go back inside and see if I can find out."

"Oh. That's okay. I'll wait," he said.

"I'll be as quick as I can," I told him and hurried into the house.

I expected Boggs would pop out of a room or out from under some table as he usually did, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. With Mrs. Chester out and Mary Margaret doing some shopping for her at the greengrocer's, the house was quiet. I thought for a moment, wondering if I should just leave a note for my great-aunt. It didn't really answer the question, however, so I started up the stairs to see if Great-aunt Leonora was in her suite.

When I drew close to the bedroom door, I heard what sounded like someone humming a children's song. There was even a laugh, a laugh that resembled the laughter of a small girl. I stood there a moment longer and then I knocked.

"Mrs. Endfield? Mrs. Endfield, it's Rain. May I speak with you a moment, please?" I asked through the door.

The humming stopped. I waited and then I knocked softly again.