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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

Tags: #Historical Saga

Forever Yours (19 page)

BOOK: Forever Yours
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At the sight of the nanny Edmond’s face took on a pugnacious expression that was comical. There was clearly no love lost between the nanny and the child. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be led away, turning before he left the room and saying to Constance, ‘May I come and see you again tomorrow?’
Constance was at a loss as to what to say. It was Sir Henry who answered. ‘Yes, you may – if you behave yourself and don’t run away from Nanny Price again.’
The small face that was a miniature of the older one smiled. ‘I won’t,’ he said.
Sir Henry didn’t follow his son and the nanny as Constance had expected. Instead he came further into the room. She had vague memories of this cultured male voice asking the nurse how she was now and again, but it was lost in the fog of the first few days after the accident. Now she was covered in confusion. This was the master, the god-like creature whose sensibilities would be offended by the mere sight of a kitchenmaid, and he was not only looking at her but speaking to her.
‘I’m told you are on the road to recovery?’ he said pleasantly.
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’
‘I rather feel it is my wife and myself who should be thanking
you
, Shelton. But for your courage and quick thinking my son would not now be suffering the thing he hates most, a bath. Although he may regard that as a mixed blessing.’
He obviously expected her to smile but she was so overwhelmed it was beyond her. Stammering, she said, ‘It – it was nothing, sir. Anyone would have done the same.’
‘Now that I doubt.’ He paused. ‘You have a way with him, with my son. And yet I understand from Cook that you have no brothers or sisters?’
‘No, sir, but – but I helped Miss Newton, the schoolmistress, with the bairns – with the children, sir, before I came here.’
‘And you like children?’
This time the answer was without hesitation. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘But you didn’t seek a means of employment which would allow you to work with them?’
Constance’s head was still aching and faintly muzzy; she couldn’t think clearly enough to deflect what could be an awkward line of questioning inasmuch as it might reveal why she left Sacriston. And so she spoke the truth. ‘Miss Newton was going to help me become an uncertified teacher, sir, and I would have liked that, but the job of a kitchenmaid came up through my Great Aunt Ivy, Cook’s mother.’
‘I see.’ And Henry thought he did. It took time to train to become a teacher, certified or uncertified, and no doubt the grandmother had been tempted by the thought of immediate financial gain rather than the vague notion of the possibility in the future. To test his theory, he said quietly, ‘And your grandmother wanted you to come here?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Suddenly realising he might have taken her words as a criticism, she added quickly, ‘It was a grand opportunity, sir. I’m aware of that.’
He made no comment to this. His voice even quieter, he said, ‘You are tired – rest now. It is early days. I’ll leave you in Nurse Harley’s capable hands.’ He left, shutting the door behind him after smiling very kindly at her.
Nurse Harley made a little ‘Huh’ sound in her throat. ‘Very much the Lord of the Manor, that one,’ she said as though to herself before plumping up Constance’s pillows.
Constance lay back, shutting her eyes. Considering she had slept all day she was deathly tired, but Dr Jefferson had said that would soon pass. And her arm and cracked ribs were paining her tonight. But still, it was lovely to be in this bonny room after the attics, and sleeping in a proper bed with so many blankets she was as warm as toast at night. Dr Jefferson had said it would be seven or eight weeks before her injuries healed, but she supposed Cook would find her jobs to do that she could manage with one hand once she was back on her feet. She would miss this room though. She wouldn’t have wished for Master Edmond to have such a fright or for herself to be kicked by the master’s horse – she was still black and blue all over, and everything ached when she moved a muscle – but at least she had seen a little of what life was like on the other side of the green-baize door. Not quite in the way she would have liked though.
She smiled to herself, a wry smile, and in a few moments was fast asleep once more.
 
It was a week later, a full two weeks after the accident, when Constance was summoned to the drawing room. Nurse Harley had been gone some five days but Constance was still residing in the nursemaids’ room, although every day she expected to be told she was returning to the kitchen and the attics. Edmond had become a regular visitor, either in the company of his eldest sister, Charlotte, who was a grave, sedate young girl, or with Nanny Price.
Constance found the times with the nanny present a strain. Nanny Price clearly didn’t understand her young charge. Charlotte was easy to handle and Gwendoline, although a little more lively than her sister, was also malleable and obedient to the nanny’s instructions. Edmond was neither. He ran rings round the poor woman and delighted in making the simplest request by her into a major confrontation. Although the nanny maintained a stiff exterior in front of Constance – as befitted a senior member of staff with a mere kitchenmaid – it was obvious she was at her wits’ end more than once. And the little monkey knew it. Constance had seen Edmond’s eyes gleam with glee as Nanny Price resorted to chasing him round the room when it was time to go and he refused to budge.
Ivor Gilbert, the same footman who had winked at Constance the day she had arrived at the house for her interview with the butler, came to fetch her from her room. Since she had risen from her sickbed she’d dressed in her ordinary clothes each day rather than her kitchenmaid’s uniform, spending most of her time sitting in a chair by the window which looked out over the front drive. At his knock, she put down the book she had been reading and stood up, her heart pounding faster. Elsie had told her the master and mistress would see her downstairs at three o’clock when she’d brought her luncheon tray earlier, and since then Constance’s stomach had been turning over with apprehension. She had expected to be told to return to her duties in the kitchen this week by Cook or Mrs Craggs; she couldn’t imagine why the master would want to see her. Ivor smiled at her when she opened the door, his gaze falling on her arm in its white cloth sling for a moment. ‘Hello, lass, it’s nice to see you on your feet again,’ he said warmly, his eyes lingering on the beautiful face in front of him. ‘We all thought you were a goner, you know. There was a right do in the kitchen. Cook was in tears and in a state for days on end.’
‘Was she?’ Constance was touched and not a little amazed.
‘She heard the commotion and came outside to see what was happening and saw you lying on the ground with Master Edmond, and Bruce trying to get Midnight back into his stall. She thought you’d gone then and there. Cathleen gave her a couple of cups of tea laced with brandy for the shock, and she was so tiddly she put sugar in the soup rather than salt. Luckily the master and mistress were so upset they sent back course after course untouched that night anyway.’
The picture he’d painted was so funny Constance couldn’t help smiling.
‘That’s better,’ said Ivor softly. ‘You looked scared to death when you opened the door, and there’s no cause to be frightened. Everyone knows you saved Master Edmond’s life. Now come on, we mustn’t keep the master and mistress waiting.’
She followed him into the narrow corridor she had glimpsed when folk had opened and shut the door during the time she had been confined to the room. Unlike the nursemaids’ room, which had bare floorboards, the corridor was carpeted but dark, illumination coming from several lamps in brackets which were fixed head height on the wall. There were a number of doors leading off on the same side as the nursemaids’ room, and as they passed these, Ivor said, ‘This is the children’s school and day room; this is the nursery bathroom and closet; this is Miss Charlotte and Miss Gwendoline’s room, and this is Master Edmond’s. This last one is Nanny Price’s bedroom and sitting room, and there’s an interior interconnecting door to Master Edmond’s room from hers.’
As they came to the end of the corridor Ivor opened a door and they stepped on to a galleried landing. Constance stopped dead, looking about her in wonder. She felt as though she had emerged into another world, a fairytale world of colour and light and space. The thick gold carpet under her feet, the gold frames of the huge pictures on the walls, the dark wood tables set at intervals along the landing with great bowls of hot-house flowers scenting the air; it was all magnificent, unbelievable.
But she didn’t have time to stand and gape. Ivor was already waiting for her at the top of the massive winding staircase that led down to the ground floor, and as she hurried to his side, he murmured,‘Mr Howard will see you in to the master and mistress, he’s waiting in the hall.’
Constance nodded but said nothing. In all the time she had been at Grange Hall the house steward hadn’t so much as acknowledged her existence. Even on the social occasions which took place in the servants’ hall – the suppers and balls at Christmas and Twelfth Night and May Day – Mr Howard had kept his distance with the junior staff. Constance had often thought he’d be a perfect match for Mrs Craggs; the pair of them were cold and forbidding, with eyes that looked straight through you as though you didn’t exist.
The hall was a larger version of the galleried landing with couches and small tables dotted about its vast expanse, but she didn’t have time to take much in. Ivor hurried her along to where the house steward was waiting, resplendent in his coat and tails. The expression on his face did nothing to alleviate her nerves.
‘Come along, come along.’ Granite-hard eyes inspected her from head to foot. ‘The master and mistress are waiting.’ She had clearly committed a crime of momentous proportions in not appearing a minute or so before. ‘And don’t fidget, girl. The master can’t abide fidgeting.’
Ivor knocked on the drawing-room door and then opened it, standing aside as Mr Howard led the way into the room. If she had thought the hall magnificent, the drawing room was more so, but the swift impression she received of walls filled with paintings and gold-framed mirrors, gleaming furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows framed by heavy blue drapes was brushed aside as the house steward turned and, with a hand on her shoulder, pressed her forward. Sir Henry was sitting in an armchair to one side of the biggest fireplace Constance had ever seen, and Lady Isabella reclined on a couch with a small dog on her lap. They were both smiling, but Constance was too nervous to notice.
Sir Henry had accompanied his children a few times when they had come to her room in the afternoon, but Lady Isabella only once. On that occasion she had expressed her thanks for Constance’s swift thinking and action on the day of the accident, said she hoped she would soon recover from her injuries, and left shortly afterwards. Elsie had told her one day that Lady Isabella was not of a strong constitution, and the lady’s-maid had told Nanny Price who had told her head nursemaid who had presumably told Elsie, that the doctors had warned Sir Henry and Lady Isabella that a fourth confinement could be disastrous. As it was, Lady Isabella had to rest most afternoons, whether there were guests staying or not, and some days remained in her rooms until evening. It was something to do with her heart, Elsie had whispered.
Constance thought of this now as she looked into the pale, beautiful face of the woman lying on the couch, remembering just in time to bob a curtsy to her and then to Sir Henry. She was so overawed by her surroundings that the etiquette which had been drummed into her since arriving at Grange Hall had deserted her for a few moments which would never do, especially with Mr Howard watching.
‘Ah, Shelton. How’s the arm?’ Sir Henry nodded at the sling. ‘And the ribs, of course. Damned painful, cracked ribs.’
‘All right, thank you, sir.’
‘Good, good. Not too painful?’
‘No, sir. Thank you.’
‘Capital, capital. Now you’re probably wondering why Lady Isabella and I want to speak to you.’ He didn’t wait for her to comment but went on, ‘We are greatly in your debt, Shelton, but of course you know this. Now my wife and I have a proposition to put to you, one which you may wish to think over for a day or two. As you know, the children’s nursemaids were dismissed’ – for a moment an expression crossed his face which made Constance swallow – ‘and at present Nanny Price has her hands full.’
He smiled and Constance forced her mouth to move in response.
‘This state of affairs cannot continue. My daughters are one thing, they are older than Edmond, of course, and a large part of their day is taken up with Miss Lyndon, the governess who comes daily to instruct them in all matters appertaining to becoming young ladies.’
Constance knew about Miss Lyndon but she had never seen her. The servant grapevine had informed her that the governess was the daughter of the rector of the parish, a refined and well-educated young woman who was also unfortunately as plain as a pikestaff with a deformity in one leg which required her to wear a surgical boot. Whether it was this which had persuaded her to take up the occupation as a governess no one knew, but it was generally agreed that Miss Lyndon had been most fortunate to acquire a post so close to home which meant she was still able to live at the Rectory and was therefore not restricted by the rules of the house in her free time.
‘Edmond, as you have probably already gathered, is not like his sisters. He is very high-spirited and inquisitive, and the combination is a little much for Nanny Price.’
Behind her Constance heard Mr Howard shift his feet slightly. She knew exactly what he was thinking. It wasn’t right for the master to make an observation about one of the senior servants which might be construed as criticism to one of such lowly rank as herself. She wasn’t sure if Sir Henry had also cottoned on, but when he next spoke it was to the house steward, and his voice was sharp. ‘That’s all for the moment, Howard, and before you go bring that chair over here for Shelton to sit down.’
BOOK: Forever Yours
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