Day 83: 29 January 2026

Short Story -- Monkshood Manor: Part 21

Mrs Winter was glowing after Mr Reed left. ‘It’s official!’ she declared with glee. ‘You own Monkshood!’ 

Even Mr Drey was exhibiting the rare smile. 

The fire burned cheerfully in the grate. A warm smile from the house itself. 

Teddy blushed but was smiling. ‘It is official! Now, before Mr Milling returns, I’d like to get some actual ideas to paper. It’s not just hypothetical anymore.’ 

And the three of them went their separate ways, with Teddy heading to the study. 

Sitting at the desk she pulled out a sheet of paper and started brainstorming: 1) School — one room to start — maybe one of the other drawing rooms on the ground floor could be converted? Or should it be in the attic where it’s currently the nursery? If so… a separate entrance for village children 2) Rooms for the orphan children — current guest wing or current nursery? 3) Room for teacher — probably close to children wherever they end up 4) Other necessities? 

Setting that sheet aside, she pulled out three fresh sheets of paper, laying them side by side. ‘It won’t be to scale,’ she said regretfully, ‘but it’ll be something.’ And she started to map out the house. 

About forty-five minutes later, she sat back in her chair surveying all the notes and plans so far. She picked up a different colour pen and looking at the map she drew started marking things for the school and orphanage. She jotted down any new ideas in the margins. 

Satisfied, she leaned back in the chair smiling. Hopefully Charles approved. And hopefully it wouldn’t cost too much money. 

‘Money!’ she said aloud and reached into her pocket where a list Mr Reed had given her before he left with useful contacts and phone numbers was. She scanned it. 

‘I’ve told them to expect your call,’ he’d said handing it to her smiling genially. 

She stood up. She’d been working now for a little over an hour. 

‘I think what I need now is a cup of coffee and some cake,’ Teddy said. 

And as if she’d predicted this request, in bustled Mrs Winter with a tray. 

‘Looks like you’ve been busy, dear!’ she said happily setting down the tray near the armchairs by the fireplace and then coming to look at the papers Teddy had arranged across the desk. 

‘What do you think?’ Teddy asked. 

Mrs Winters looked everything over. ‘I think it’s going to be wonderful to have this place full of life again!’ 

Teddy smiled. Her shoulders relaxed. She hasn’t even noticed the tension she’d been holding in. And she walked over to the tray. After pouring herself a cup of coffee and getting a slice of chocolate cake, she sat down in one of the arm chairs. 

Mrs Winter had already left. On to whatever thing was next! 

And as Teddy took her first sip of coffee, she noticed a blue cloth bound book slightly ajar on the shelf nearest her. She stood up to push it back in. Scanning the shelf… there was a hodgepodge of cloth bound books and none of them had titles. 

‘Strange,’ Teddy thought. And instead of pushing the one back in, she pulled it out and opened it. 

It was dated about sixty years ago. A neat but solid handwriting covering the page. Another journal. 

She looked at the house. ‘Is this from you?’ 

It seemed to hum a yes, so she took it with her and sat back down. 

I’m afraid my brother is causing trouble again. Why can’t he just settle down? He’s 27 after all. Even father is starting to worry… and he doesn’t know the worst of it. 

I noticed one of the maids crying the other day while she was changing the linens in my room. I tried to ask her what was wrong but she just kept her head down and said, ‘Nothing, Miss. I’m fine. Thank you.’ I pressed a little more but it was clear she wasn’t going to share. 

It’s not my place — a person’s problems are their own — but she seemed quite distressed and a little distracted, so I decided to talk to Anastia (my maid). She looked both angry and embarrassed. We’ve known each other for years, so I hoped she would be honest with me. She usually has quite a bold personality which I admire even if it’s been known to get her in trouble from time to time. 

‘Please,’ I told her. ‘I’m only concerned.’ 

She stayed tight lipped, eyes furious. 

‘When have I ever let you down?’ I tried again. 

‘You’re not going to like the answer, Miss,’ she said curtly. ‘And there’s nought you can do about it.’ 

I kept looking at her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. 

She threw up her hands exasperated. ‘Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ 

And she proceeded to tell me how Arthur had tricked the young maid into thinking he intended to marry her… and now… she was pregnant. 

‘And when she told your brother at their last tryst, he just laughed and said he wouldn’t be claiming some lowly maid’s child as his own and who would believe her word anyways.’ 

I was properly aghast and ashamed. 

And now I have to decide what my next move is. Obviously I don’t want to make anything worse for the girl. And Arthur can be cruel. 

Teddy thought back to the family tree the house had given her but she couldn’t remember every name and the exact order. 

She stood up, book in hand and walked to the other room where it was hanging on the wall. She started scrutinizing it. 

Mr Drey saw her as he was walking by the room and stopped in. ‘Anything I can help you with, Miss Thompson?’ 

‘Oh! Mr Drey!’ Teddy said, clearly surprised. Again. ‘Maybe, actually. Do you know if there was an Arthur who lived here around sixty years ago?’ 

Mr Drey’s face darkened a little. ‘I never knew the man personally,’ he started. ‘Something strange happened with the will and inheritance. But my father mentioned him once or twice. It was never for anything good.’ 

Teddy had located the branch. One Arthur with a younger sister named Eva. 

‘Thank you, Mr Drey,’ she said. 

‘May I ask what this is about?’ Mr Drey inquired. 

‘The house pointed me to another journal,’ Teddy said, holding up the book and still studying the tree. ‘I’ve not read much… but it doesn’t sound nice so far.’ 

‘I see.’ And after a pause, ‘Anything else I can assist with?’ 

‘No, thank you, Mr Drey.’

So he continued on his way. 

Teddy noticed that Arthur’s branch never showed him married much less with any children. ‘So,’ Teddy mused, ‘He never claimed the baby of the maid, or the baby died, or perhaps his parents intervened somehow?’ Then another look flashed across her face. ‘I wonder if he had more than one illegitimate child?’