Chapter 32: Chapter 32 – Can this day be more miserable?

If you asked Oscar, with his usual negativity, he´d say that all the days wasted within that novel were a disgrace by themselves. But the truth is that there were days, like that Saturday, that far exceeded the previous misadventures.

It wasn't a question of which people he hung out with or what mistake did he make. No, it had nothing to do with that, because even though things often went wrong for him, he always had a second plan or came prepared to act in case everything went wrong. Especially since Madeleine lost Theresa's money, he always had a worst-case scenario in mind. So if it was something he could control, no matter how small, he acted with greater confidence.

Now, what to do when the reason for his sleeplessness was something completely alien to him?

That damn weekend wasn´t made for hunting, no matter how much the author sweetened it at the time of writing, claiming that a small storm was not an impediment for those brave hunters to roam the fields, rifle in hand and an obvious target to achieve. Anyway, she put these people as unparalleled heroes! It was ridiculous. And as Madeleine, in that story, spent the entire hunt inside the building, not even going out to wish Patrick luck with the mass murders, the reader didn´t even have a broad vision of how the story went in the exterior.

What the hunters were doing, how and why, Oscar had to discover when he had to accompany them. Hence, it didn´t take long to conclude that this was going to be one of his worst days as a cannon fodder character.

Although it wasn´t raining much when they came out, shortly before dawn, the mist hung over the moors like a blanket that barely let anyone see anything on its path. And when the fog lifted, it gave way to an icy wind that threatened to persist throughout the day. Oscar thought he would end up warming up, because the lands to which they go would have to travel about two miles on foot, since they barely had a couple of carriages with them and these were reserved for the masters. But even walking this distance at a brisk pace, it didn't make Oscar feel any better. The clothes he was wearing weren´t warm enough and, although at first only a couple of drops fell, it soon began to rain heavily.

The caravan stopped a couple of times in that short journey and Oscar, at some point, hoped this bunch of idiots would have a stroke of lucidity and order the coachman to turn around. But no, that couldn't happen. As persistent as Ramsey became, they ended up reaching the desired estates.

By then, the rain had subsided again and people were beginning to pick up their weapons, looking for where to position themselves to shoot. Everyone was in a good mood except Oscar, who felt that heaven was making fun of him.

"Now listen," Kenneth had whispered to him, when hunters had already divided into groups and were now half hidden in what might look like nature-created trenches, "this is the best part. You´ve got to pay attention to two points: first, the birds that will soon fly away. And second, on the master's rifle. When you see it shoots and hits, you have to run to where you saw the bird fall and, here comes the important thing, pick it up before the dogs do”

"What the hell is this?" Oscar asked in the same tone, making sure neither Patrick nor any of the other six people next to them heard. “Did I leave my precious room in Lilac Hall to come fight some dogs over a piece of meat?”

"No, don't be silly! Dogs are super friendly, they don't usually bite anyone. What happens is that some have the tendency to dismember the prey by grabbing it or, directly, eating it. So, many people prefer to use them only as a last resort, when they have no one to pick up the partridges or when they fall in an inaccessible place or if it has not been possible to keep track of where they landed”.

“Those words relieve me a lot, really”

“I'm glad!” Kenneth exclaimed, as usual, not catching the sarcasm. “The Seymours don´t have dogs because they are expensive to maintain, let alone it´d be a pain to transport them here. So let's push ourselves to fill their position, okay?”

‘Why are you encouraging me to do the job of fetching better than a dog?’ Oscar wondered. But instead of asking that question out loud, he just nodded at Kenneth's statement. Of course, he did it with zero enthusiasm.

Oscar knew it was normal in those days for the nobles to use their own service to carry out these types of tasks, but he had always been a person from the city. He could tidy up the stables or cut the lawns in the gardens if required, but this was already overstepping the line. Running through the bushes to get the biggest piece, competing with other men and dogs, was humiliating! Even more so knowing that there were numerous people watching him, prepared to criticize any mistake.

He never was a religious person. He considered himself an atheist, in fact. But at that moment nothing mattered to him anymore. So from that ditch in which they were stuck he began to pray that the protagonist missed all his shots or, even better, that the partridges didn´t take flight.

But while Patrick had too many flaws to count, poor aim was not one of them: His precision in aiming and pulling the trigger at the precise moment was excellent, it was possible that he was even one of the best hunters Ramsey had for this weekend.

Someone fired from another hiding place, thirty meters away, when he saw a bird soaring through the skies. And, alerted by the roar, a flock of partridges rose from another tree. The number of shots was multiplied on the spot, causing several animals to be struck down. Watching such a spectacle with disgust, Oscar hardly noticed that Kenneth was tugging at his jacket sleeve, urging him:

"Come on, the master has got three!"

What a waste that was. Oscar would have liked to complain, but Kenneth was already running towards the place where he had seen one of the prey fall! So, without waiting for anyone to scold him to do his job, Oscar had to manage to get out of the ditch in a hurry, which was more complicated than he thought; although the ground was barely over a meter high, the ground was damp and slipping was easy.

This is, not to mention that he had never turned out to be athletic. And, although it was not that he was extremely clumsy, it was true that in those places his speed left a lot to be desired. The result? By the time he finally caught up with one of the partridges, it was too late. One of the hounds belonging to some villager was ahead of him, by a few centimeters, when he was about to lay his gauntlet on the prey.

Not only that, angry as he was at this rudeness, Oscar had tried to grab the partridge again, with the dog and everything —because there was no way to convince that animal to let go of it—, but he wasn´t successful either. The dog was, again, quick to avoid him. Still holding the bird in his mouth, he trotted off happily toward his owner as Oscar tried to get up off the ground.

He hadn't hurt himself, but while trying to catch the dog he had slipped and fallen into a puddle. Without having suffered any major bruises, his clothes were soaked. Although this wasn´t the time to worry about that.

“What happened?” Kenneth inquired coming up to him, in his hands he carried a pair of partridges that he had collected in record time. “Still don't have it?”

"No, a dog took it," Oscar replied, trying not to show his anger.

It wasn't pretty for him to lose to someone less intelligent than a human, but at the same time he refused to take the hunt seriously. He wasn't going to let any of this get to him.

"A four-legged or a two-legged dog?"

"Is there both kinds?"

Yes, there must be, if Patrick was there… Though Kenneth probably wasn't referring to his master when he smiled at the question.

"It was one of four."

“Oh good! Those are the easiest to handle!”

Oscar was going to say that stopping a dog was easier said than done, since he had been annoyed by that sudden surge of confidence on Kenneth's part. But, before he could even think of a phrase to lower those fumes, the other was already asking him what dog it was.

As soon as Oscar answered him, pointing in one precise direction, Kenneth handed him his partridges and ran to where indicated. He was even faster than any of those animals! And, when he finally caught up with the dog, he jumped on him.

Oscar was horrified and shocked at this sight, he wasn´t expecting for him to catch it! Much less that he did it so soon and in that crude way. The poor dog wasn´t crushed, but he was immobilized for a few seconds. He was so scared that he released the bird in his eagerness to flee from that lunatic who had thrown to him out of nowhere. And Kenneth, allowing such action, picked up the partridge the hound had released.

By the time Kenneth returned to Oscar, his clothes were much more soaked and dirty than his partner's. But with prey in hand, his mood had risen alarmingly again. It seemed that as long as he was fulfilling his role, he wasn´t even aware of the state he was in. And if someone like Kenneth didn't pay attention to those details, how could Oscar complain? Until then he had done nothing useful but cause trouble!

He couldn't complain until he, too, had done his job. As much as he disliked all, he couldn´t allow his pride to be trampled on. So, from that moment on, things got serious.

Oscar made it his goal to act, for that morning, as expected of him. Without allowing any failure. He had to ignore the rest of the hunters making inappropriate comments about his work, be vigilant so as not to miss the exact place where a prey fell and, in addition, be faster than his competitors.

Unlike Kenneth, he wasn´t at all motivated by the beauty of the scenery, the compliments you could get from that rat named Seymour, much less the excellent physical training they were getting for free. No. What motivated Oscar was that, he was thinking, Patterson was murdered at some point during that morning. Well, apparently, the individual had to return to the mansion at some point before the others did. And, since he had long since disappeared from his range of vision, Oscar could only hope that in a matter of minutes some servant would come from Fairview to notify them of the death.

Until that happened, he struggled. He tried very hard.

But that shouldn't be enough for him, because all morning misfortunes were beating on him. He barely managed to reach another partridge, because they fell in places difficult to access, that someone was ahead of him and took it instead. Oscar soon discovered it was worse to compete with other people who served the same job than with the dogs themselves. Well, with some practice, dogs could be caught and the prey removed from their snouts, but with people you had to talk. And dialogue was terrible in this case! Because these people were so dazed while hunting that they had no patience and, when they were squeezed a little, they soon showed their fists, ready to start a fight.

Oscar didn´t want to resort to violence and, since the others weren´t willing to listen, he found himself having to give up his prey on more than one occasion. Which, as expected, Patrick didn´t like. Oscar thus took a few insults and fights for it, with the consequence that several hunters who heard the problem passed by while they laughed or treated him as a fool.

There was a point in the morning when even the animals no longer took him seriously and, although he did manage to catch a bird or two, it almost seemed the dogs were giving them to him out of grief. Oscar didn't even have time to claim victory, because one of those hounds stole the only moment of glory from him, peeing on his boots.

The hours passed and the storm took hold on that mountain. Patterson was gone, but no one came to give any warning, so the suffering of certain individuals in the city had to be prolonged.

Around eleven o'clock in the morning, the hunters must have been forgotten by the people of Fairview. Oscar was already tired, he was hungry and cold. When someone announced they were going back to the mansion, for him it was as if a homeless man had just been given permission to enter a shelter, after countless days without being able to eat well and sleeping in the open. That was his level of desperation.

He was silent as he followed the group back onto the main road for the reverse trip to the Ramsey property. The hunters were already tethering their dogs again, putting away their weapons, and some were even getting into the carriages. All the ruckus that hadn't been there in the last few hours, except for the occasional gunfire and barking, seemed like it had now broken out. Well, people were getting together and, ending the day, many were encouraged to tell their experience.

Looking around, he realized that, once out of the fields, no one seemed interested in what he might have done or not done. Except for Kenneth, Patrick, and some of the host's acquaintances who were close to him at the right time, no one had paid attention to him during his slip-ups. Now, with the hunt over, he was invisible again. And he would continue to be, as long as someone didn´t think to talk to others about how terrible he handled himself that day.

He didn't realize, until the moment they were all starting to line up to get back to Fairview together, that Albert had also come in the group.

After searching with his eyes, he saw him from afar then, and made sure that he had kept his word. He went to the hunt, as requested, but he didn´t hunt. Oscar knew it because the villain neither carried any rifle with him, nor did he remember seeing him firing shots in the same land as the rest of the world. In fact, if he didn't remember badly — for he was busy enough attending to other matters, to go around checking where each character was — before he had seemed to see a small group of spectators from a nearby hill.

Oscar had a bad feeling and, to Kenneth's surprise, asked a question that seemed purely random to the other:

"Do you know if Albert Northrop was watching the hunt this entire time?"

"Yes, he was!" Does it seem weird to you? I also thought he wouldn't come,” Kenneth replied cheerfully, recovered from his initial surprise. “But don't worry, he hasn't been seen wielding a gun, so I don't think he's going after you today.”

"Do you know if he stayed here all morning?"

"Why this insistence? I was busy working for the masters, you know? Not like others, who aren´t doing well and therefore must be careful of escaping while they can. Hey, that doesn't seem illogical to me either, because Mr. Northrop commands respect. But don't you think you should talk about it? Anyway, I don't think...”

"Answer the question, please."

Oscar was curt. Besides, he must not have looked very pleased, because Kenneth, after taking a quick glance at him, decided to cooperate without putting up much resistance.

“Luckily, I have exquisite reflections and a sense of detail, so it was clear that I did notice who there was and who wasn´t… And as for Mr. Northrop, he did come. He was on that hill, with half a dozen other villagers, watching. I think he even brought a stool with him, these nobles are very rare. I saw him with a newspaper, too, so at first I thought he would read. But of course, it started to rain, and who reads like that? So after that, I don't know what he did with it, but when I looked back in his direction he was in the same place. The newspaper had been replaced with an umbrella and he was still looking”

He could have asked more, but considering the position Kenneth had indicated he was in, adding to the fact that the day before it was Oscar who asked him to come, you didn't have to be very smart to guess where the villain was looking.

"Come on, don't be like that," Kenneth smiled, patting his partner on the shoulder. “Did you see that he didn't approach you? Today you got rid of a lynching!”

It wasn´t because of fear of murder that Oscar had turned red, much less was it because he suspected the villain was going to scold him for having done everything wrong that day. If he felt so humiliated, was precisely because the only person he held dear during that damn trip had repeatedly seen him make a fool of himself. How the hell was he going to look at his face again? He didn't know it, but he was confident he could calm down a bit in the next few hours, keeping a cool head and pretending that nothing out of the ordinary happened.

For now, Albert didn´t seem to want to start a conversation with him either. Well, although he saw him, and it was a fact that until shortly before leaving for Fairview their eyes met even though they were still separated by a certain distance, the villain didn´t show any signs of wanting to get closer. He completely ignored him.

Was that a courtesy to avoid putting him through the trouble of explaining himself about what happened? Or was it really that he had been disappointed at his ineffective ability to collect dead birds? Ah, it should be the first, right? Considering that Albert didn´t like hunting, it was unlikely he would care too much about how people behaved on the shooting range.

Either way, Oscar felt bad for being ignored like that.

It could have happened the reason no one came to tell about Patterson's murder was that the body had not yet been discovered. Something unlikely, on the other hand, since there should be no substantial change regarding how, when and where the body was found. Or so Oscar thought, long before he came to Fairview and realized that not only had no corpse found, but Lionel Patterson was more alive than some of those who had returned exhausted to the mansion.

But what the hell had happened here?

In both the original manuscript and here, Patterson had to return to Fairview almost two hours earlier than the rest because he had made an appointment with one of the women. And they hadn't left the grounds on that rainy day either, ergo, why wasn't the victim dead? Was it because there was a script change because of Oscar? After all, if there was talk of "strange elements" in the work, he was one of them. And there had already been multiple occasions in which the plot had changed because of his goings-on.

Although, this time, he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary to bring about that change. His character shouldn't be in Redhill in the first place, so he had refrained from keeping in touch with any of the nobles who were invited there. He even with the service he was trying to keep a safe distance, being polite with them, but without getting involved. The only person he had taken out of his way, if that could be said, because the guy didn´t put up any resistance, was the villain...

Oscar took a deep breath after this thought came to his head and tried to eliminate any hint of fear he might feel. Well, the plot changed because he suggested to the villain that he go hunting. There were two possibilities for this. The first, that Albert was the murderer and, by reason of complying with his request, he wouldn´t have had the opportunity to commit his crime. The second, that he was not a murderer, but he did know the culprit and would have even talked to him just before the murder was committed.

There may be a third option; that no murder be committed. But, with the twist of this plot, that was perhaps the least likely option of all.

In any case, there was nothing to fear. Even if Albert was a murderer — and by now there would be a fifty percent chance, considering everything he had seen and heard since transmigrated — he and Oscar did get along. There could be no way that in twenty chapters Albert would undergo a drastic change of opinion and decide to open his head to the one he now conosidered a friend.

Thus, among doubts, it was that the day passed, without any significant change. Patterson must have gotten rid of his killer, because he got through the afternoon without any mishap. Villagers who spent the morning on the Ramsey grounds, joining the hunt, had lunch at Fairview. And, later, they had no problem staying until well after tea time, thus proceeding to put together that celebration that could not be carried out in the original work.

The house was filled with people and excitement, the smell of tobacco and the notes from a piano flooded the corridors, auguring a good celebration.

Such a crowd formed, inside the mansion, that Ramsey's employees soon felt they could not cope. And, therefore, they had to resort to a reassignment of positions, opting to grant tasks that in principle would not correspond to employees hired to perform other types of tasks. In this way, not only did the Ramseys 'servants get down to business, but the guests' companions also had to make their contribution.

Several hours after he had returned to the estates, Oscar found himself serving as a waiter again, pacing with a tray between masters and guests. Also cursing under his breath for having to be involved in this type of situation; serving at a fair or inside a mansion, exclusively for the nobles themselves, was one thing. Having to bring the appetizers to and from an informal event like this, where most of the people were lowly class and had no idea of ​​etiquette, was another. And it is that it was no longer just that there was hardly any space to move, it´s that people arranged themselves in any way through the rooms, walking around the house as if they owned the place, without having even a minimum of awareness for the employees!

Hell, with such a stuffy atmosphere and half-drunk guests thinking only of themselves, Oscar had to juggle to keep nothing from falling to the floor. And, in the same way, so as not to lose the little patience he had left. The worst of all was that, due to the lack of manners of many, some gentlemen even took the opportunity to do whatever they wanted! Regardless of the same formalities in which, if he were alone in the company of those in his position, they would have taken into account.

For example, Oscar had seen people putting their dirty hooves on tables and armchairs that would later require a thorough cleaning. The fireplace in the living room was lit without having called an employee, without noticing that some of the charcoal had been thrown carelessly and fell on the carpet. Not to mention those who finished their wine and left their glasses anywhere! It seemed like those jerks were trying to get the servants to play treasure hunts with them.

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Good thing, anyway, there were still some decent people left whom didn´t make undue brawls and took account of where they left the dishes no longer needed.

“Are you okay?” Someone had asked at one point that afternoon, taking advantage of the fact that Oscar stopped to deliver a few drinks, on one of his walks through the crowd.

"Yes, I think so, why shouldn't I...?" Making sure it was the villain who approached him, Oscar proceeded to change his speech. “Ah, since we're here, I wanted to thank you for coming out to the hunt. I know you didn't feel like it and, with the bad weather, the truth is that it was quite a detail on your part that you still agreed to come.”

Oscar had said this in a run, trying not to meet Albert's eyes, remembering the shame he felt that morning. That had been quite a problem. Since dawn he had had so much to do that he hadn´t been separated for an instant from Patrick's group. And, if he was not with his employer, he stood by the service that would organize the game or the event afterwards. He didn´t even had time to approach the villain and say hello. Much less to thank him for the trouble taken.

And, as much as Oscar was ashamed that he had seen him at his worst, he still considered it the right thing to say.

"It wasn't a bother at all," Albert had put in. “Although I´m not a fan of these types of sports, if I had stayed in Fairview I would have had to remain talking to the women until the retinue returned. And that… That´d have been a bit awkward.”

If he hadn't felt a little nervous, Oscar would have laughed when he heard that. In the novel, the villain was seen as an unscrupulous man whose rivalry with the protagonist was such that it led him to fraternize with the same ladies as him, with the mere objective of stealing them.

Although Albert was already cold and distant in the original, with women he seemed to behave politely, doing his best to treat them well and without disrespect. Here, in this new version, he was still like that. But his reluctance to stay alone with them seemed to be due more to a probable shyness, or even mistrust when dealing with people with whom he had barely dealt, than to the fact of not having an audience in front of which to boast of his feats as Casanova.

"Anyway," Oscar continued, "I also wanted to apologize for not coming over to talk to you earlier. Today is such a busy day that I can't even stop for five minutes!”

This was not entirely true. Although he had been unable to get close to Albert from shortly before the hunt began until the entire group started to get back to the mansion, once inside the house, he did have a few moments he could have used to get closer to him. It was just that he didn't want to, not yet.

"Speaking of the hunt, it must have been complicated."

"W-well, like any other job. Some are better and others worse.”

‘And this was a total shit, thanks for reminding me,’ thought Oscar, but he didn't say anything. The villain had become serious, as if he was still holding something back.

"True, but with those weather conditions... And having no experience doesn't help either. I was watching, from the top of one of the hills, and it looked difficult.”

"I suppose it would all be getting used to it, thinking more about the benefit of this little foray into nature than about the stumbling blocks of the day.”

"Have you made any profit?" Albert asked, now looking surprised.

‘No, none at all’ But, instead of saying that or lying, instilling in the other some kind of hope that there was something profitable for him, having participated in that game of barbarians, he excused himself without forgetting to show a friendly smile in the process:

"Can we continue talking later? I apologize, again, but I have to take this to the kitchens. And then I have to continue serving these people”

The villain seemed to think about it for a few seconds, before nodding. It seemed that he had not said everything he wanted to say, but he also didn´t want to keep Oscar while he was still at work.

Without having agreed, then, when they would meet again, the two parted ways. And despite the fact they met again several times that afternoon, while the townspeople continued to invade the Fairview halls, they didn´t speak again.

With nothing else to highlight, and having cleared the place as hours passed and the sun went down, dinner time came without major inconvenience. The villagers had returned to Redhill, leaving the Ramseys and their honored guests alone. And it was precisely at that dinner the riots occurred.

Not that someone had been poisoned by a glass of champagne, or that they accidentally fell on a sharp knife four or five times. No. The cause of the riots didn't even have something to do with Patterson; he must have been quietly chatting with the host, as if nothing was happening right under his nose, because that was how carefree he was.

The riots — which, although they were called that, most of the guests at that table considered it a happy and unexpected event — had to do with Madeleine.

"Looks like Miss Cornell found a ring in her soup," one of the servants commented, by way of explanation why the service dinner would have to be delayed for about ten or fifteen minutes. “She was eating when she scooped it up with her spoon. It´s so fortunate she saw it in time, otherwise a misfortune may have happened!”

"What do you mean by a ring?" Asked Kenneth, always eager to grasp these things. “Do they put rings in the soup as a special event? I want to!”

"As if we would throw jewels in the soup if we had them!" Growled the one who must be the chef. “I told the masters and I repeat it now. I´ve had nothing to do with it! They should even apologize for desecrating my dishes like that.”

“Then who was it?”

"Mr. Seymour, of course. Who else would give her an engagement ring like that? Also, those two were dating, it's no secret.”

"So it was Mr. Seymour, huh?" Mallory laughed at this, as if she, too, knew Patrick's character well and knew there was something unusual about the subject. “I didn't think he was that kind of person”

"Nobody thought about it, it was totally unexpected. But Miss Cornell began to make a fuss, saying that it was thanks to him the ring was there, crying with joy at that beautiful request for a hand in front of everyone. Anyway, people get excited! Both Messrs. Ramsey and the other guests congratulated them and decided to toast”

"Yes, yes, we already know that," urged Oscar, who had previously seen another of the servants fetch a new bottle of champagne for this purpose. “How did Mr. Seymour take it?”

"Well, that's where I was going to, and that's also why we're going to delay our dinner a bit, because it seems the man was more excited than his new fiancée. When he saw the ring put on Miss Cornell's index finger and people started congratulating, he fainted. Ah, but it's nothing serious, nothing to worry about! It was just for the emotion of the moment, he woke up right away and asked to retire to his bedroom, after thanking people for their congratulations. I suppose he was overwhelmed by so much attention and would want a few moments alone to digest that his partner said yes to his proposal”

"It's great!" Exclaimed Kenneth, who unlike others saw nothing out of the ordinary in the story. “Isn't it, Oscar? She´ll marry the master and come to live in Lilac Hall. I'm really happy for them! Oh, although you may not like that completely... No, don't tell me anything, I know you preferred to have Madeleine to yourself, but you can't have everything. You had no chances from the beginning, cause she comes from a good family. But don't be like that! Look at the bright side, when they get married you´ll see her every day!”

“I'm not interested”

Kenneth debated between scolding him for being so curt after good news like that or apologizing for being so effusive, since he knew of his friend's fondness for the eldest Cornell. But, he still hadn't made up his mind, when Mallory got into the conversation:

"It´s curious the young lady received a jewel like that today," she said. “When I was unpacking her luggage, I saw she also brought with her a ring that belonged to her grandmother and that she rarely wears”

"Now she´ll have two rings!"

"I don't understand what that has to do with anything," Oscar replied, keeping his seriousness and embroidering his role as an ignorant of life.

"I suppose it's true, that ring has nothing to do with it."

Mallory smiled, as if she had just discovered an important fact. But she didn´t speak of that subject again, perhaps thinking it wasn´t convenient for her to do so.

"By the way, Oscar," Sean warned him after a while, "Mr. Northrop was looking for you. I don't know if you've already talked to him”

That was the first news Oscar had of this. Did Albert require his presence? When could and for what, he would have liked to know. Well, it hadn´t been so many hours since he had spoken for the last time with him and, what little they spoke, was nothing of urgent relevance.

"But when was that?"

"Shortly after you came back from the hunt. I told him to wait for you in the living room, that you would come later, but he preferred to wait in our room. So, although it seemed strange to me, after insisting a little there I led him. I didn't call you because at that moment I think you were looking for some towels to dry off, so I thought you´d end up going to the room when you had them and you were ready to change”

"Well, something's gone wrong here, because I didn't see Mr. Northrop when I got back. And yes, I can assure you that I stopped by the room when I finished drying myself”

"Maybe he got tired of waiting and left…?"

"So long did I delay my get back? No wait, what did he want from me?”

Sean didn't say anything, just gave him a questioning look, as if he was saying, ‘If you don't know...’. But the truth is that Oscar didn´tknow. As in all period homes, there were certain rules of etiquette that had to be respected. And one of these rules was that, if any of the masters needed something from the service, they would be attended to in the place where they were. Either in a living room, in an office or in their own rooms. It didn´t matter. It was unheard of for one of them to go to the trouble of wandering through the service wing to look for an employee! This gave rise to think the reason for this visit was of the utmost importance.

And, no matter how friendly they were, Albert was not one of those who broke the protocol just like that. Not because he was extremely rigid with these customs - which, in fact, he wasn´t - but because he was in someone else's home and above all he had to maintain his immaculate facade and adhere to the customs of the place so that they wouldn´t label him as infamous.

But, again, when they exchanged a couple of sentences earlier, the villain also didn´t tell him that he had been looking for him. Much less did he hint at any important issue. Then, why…?

"Was he in a good mood?" Oscar rephrased the question, correctly assuming the villain didn´t want to tell anyone the reason for his rush to see him.

"I saw him normal."

The "normal" for Albert Northrop was to remain serious and quiet in the face of any external stimulus. As he was a reserved person and not too fond of showing his feelings to strangers, for those who didn´t have much contact with him it was quite difficult to be able to deduce if the guy was happy, sad or willing to break someone's legs. In addition, Albert was one of those who didn´t lose his kindness when addressing people. He treated individuals of his position as well as the servants who served him with equal respect, so it was difficult to fathom his personality. He looked like he wore a mask to everyone.

"But was that normal?" Asked another person who had been listening to the conversation. “I saw him leave the room, purely by chance, and he looked angry”

"What do you mean angry?"

"Okay, I didn't see him yelling or slamming the door: Mr. Northrop seems too smart for that. But he did have a complicated expression”

"When I left him in the room, he wasn't like this," Sean protested, as if the other man was making it up and he was outraged. “It´s true that he didn´t jump for joy either, that I have seen more animated people without having to express their happiness at all, but he wasn´t angry!”

"Did you just leave him there alone?" Oscar asked, not wanting to get into a fruitless discussion about Albert's mood.

"Well yeah, I had things to do. I just took him to the room and told him to wait for you… Ah, I was going to stay for five minutes! But it made me uncomfortable to be there, because the man didn´t want to talk to me more than necessary, so I slipped away as soon as I finished explaining that it wouldn´t take you ten minutes to return”

"And did he do or say anything after that?"

“He just said that he´d wait and allowed me to withdraw. I left him there, staring out the window. Although I suppose there would be nothing to do outside, with the flood that is falling. I would even venture to say that he only went to that end of the room to avoid making eye contact with me”

That made sense, the villain used to feel uneasy dealing with strangers. He avoided them whenever he could. And if he didn´t have books or friends with whom he could distract himself, the best thing for him was to stay contemplating the landscape, or anything else that would distract him from the unwanted human who was breaking into his personal space.

Now, it couldn't have been as urgent a matter as Oscar first thought. If it had been, he would have waited for him or at least tried to talk about it for the rest of the day. But, remembering his last conversation with him, he didn´t even notice anything strange.

That is, he did seem like he was holding back to say something, but he didn't notice him angry. No, it wasn't just that he didn't seem pushed… What kind of twisted individual would start a fight by first asking the other party if he was in good health and spirits? It was absurd! If he wanted to claim for something, as Oscar suspected he would, if he hadn't taken his foot in the dust, he would have tried with greater fervor.

Now, it may have been a hunch, thinking that maybe there was another reason why the villain didn´t insist, but when Oscar returned to his room, just after his dinner, he too went to the window and tried to peer outward. He didn't see anything, probably because at that time it was already dark and the Ramseys had no lamppost or lamp set up in the gardens to help guide one through the wide fields. Not to mention, with the storm continuing to fall, it wasn't like a dim light was going to hold up to the rain and wind either.

Oscar was glad that the windows were tightly closed and there was no danger of air or water seeping into the room, while he lowered his eyes and came across the desk on which he and Kenneth had their travel bags.

None of his companions had used that table for anything and they didn´t show symptoms of wanting to use it in the future, so they had preferred to place their things there, since the furniture was not as narrow as the chest of drawers.

Was it possible that Albert had been rummaging through his things and had seen something compromising...?

No, neither was the villain that kind of deranged, nor was Oscar carrying anything unusual in his bag. He knew it well. Besides, that same afternoon he had had to rummage through his things to find a clean change of clothes to change into, after putting the clothes he used in the hunt to dry. Ergo, he had been emptying his briefcase and hadn't seen anything out of place. Everything was as he left it before abandoning Lilac Hall, and this had happened after the villain supposedly went looking for him.

It was a curious enigma.

An enigma that didn´t took long in being solved.

Oscar thought that maybe it had been something else on the desk or in the room that would have caught Albert's attention, so he did something he hadn't done when he looked for things to change into; he moved the bags aside, removing them from the desk. And that was it. He didn't need to do more.

Beneath Kenneth's bag, hidden by its fabric, he found Madeleine's damn necklace. The same one he gave back to Mallory.

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