He stood with his back against the wall, allowing the shadow of the house to hide him from the moonlight. Straight ahead, he made out the pale golden tresses of a young woman walking down the lane towards the very house he was leaning on. Beside her walked a figure that was all too recognizably male. He calculated the distance between the young man and woman, deeming it slightly too close for strangers, acquaintances, business partners, or even friends. He frowned. The young man stopped at the stone ledge that wrapped around the property, but the woman continued forward. When she had reached the front door, he strode forward from the shadows.
His sudden appearance elicited a gasp from the young woman, her eyes widening in alarm. "Miss Ellany," he said in a gruff voice as a way of greeting.
Her hand fluttered to her chest as she closed her eyes momentarily in relief. "Oh, Mister Thatcher, you frightened me!"
The guard nodded to the young mistress of the house, undeterred from his purpose. "Who was that man accompanying you?" With a jerk of his head toward the lane, Mister Thatcher made clear that he was speaking of the young man who had just walked her home.
Even in the dark, he made out the blush that rushed into her cheeks. "O-oh! He was a W-watcher."
One of his bushy eyebrows reached towards his forehead.
"I-it was late. So he kindly offered to see me safely home." Ellany glanced away, attempting a tone of disinterest.
He had let the matter pass that evening until he saw another young man accompanying his Miss Ellany two evenings later. Squinting into the darkness, he realized that he was mistaken. Same man, no uniform. He watched the young man scan his surroundings keenly, a practice he recognized from doing it himself for so many years - watching, guarding, protecting. Mister Thatcher waited in front of the door. Ellany spotted him quickly and walked up, her head hanging lightly to hide her expression.
Mister Thatcher cleared his throat. "That Watcher again?"
Ellany raised her chin, smoothing her features into one of ignorant innocence. "Yes."
"I noticed he wasn't in his Watcher uniform this evening."
The usual tinge of pink rose into Ellany's cheeks as she opened her mouth and then closed it promptly. She paused a moment and then began again. "You understand how the job is, Mister Thatcher. On or off duty, still a Watcher," she offered.
Yes, and that one is watching you too closely, he thought to himself. Not to his surprise, he saw much the same the next evening. Same Watcher. No uniform. A slight frown appeared under his dark bushy mustache. The master of the house had warned him to lookout for potential suitors. After all, there would be plenty pining for his precious daughter, and he would certainly not leave her to some ordinary Bob, Tom, or Huck. Mister Thatcher carefully recalled the features of the young man, whom he had scrutinized every time he had turned up at the end of the lane. By now, he could identify him simply by height, posture, and gait. Even from afar, Mister Thatcher knew the young man's bearing was not that of an ordinary Bob, Tom, or even Huck. No, there was a strength in the young Watcher that wasn't built solely on hard physical labor and an intelligence in his expression that wasn't gleaned only from books.
Should he chase the lad off or merely keep an eye on him? Mister Thatcher shook his head, ruffling the hair in the back with a slow swipe of his hand. He hadn't been trained to deal with this type of situation. Why hadn't Master Cadien left more explicit instructions?
Fortunately for the guard of Master Cadien's property, the predicament had answered itself the next week. Miss Ellany had come and gone from the house every day, sometimes several times a day, but never again in the company of the young Watcher.
