His Saving Grace (Regency Refuge 1) (8 page)

May 1815

It had been two months since Thomas's departure. Everyone had settled into a sort of pattern at Castle Felton. Elsie had at first been horrified when told she needed to bathe and wash her hair at least twice weekly. When the subject of clean clothes came up, the poor girl had paled more than the albino shrew Grace had once seen in a field back in Stafford Shire.

After Margaret had completed some dresses for her, Grace set her to sewing uniforms for Elsie and the other staff. Margaret did most of the sewing at home, but she made frequent trips to the castle. As Grace had the opportunity to spend time with her, she came to like the lithe girl with her irrepressible sable curls.

Mr. Pembroke took care of the grounds. Mrs. Pembroke oversaw the work of all the maids except Elsie. Rupert saw to the footman and groomsman, as well as all household-related business that came up. The remainder of Grace's belongings from Stafford arrived, and she felt better having some of her familiar items around her in this new strange land.

Grace insisted on eating her evening meal in the kitchen with the staff. She saw no reason for them to make a formal affair of serving her in the dining room when she was the only one there. Everyone, especially Mr. and Mrs. Pembroke, had been terribly uncomfortable when she'd first joined them in the kitchen. Over time, they became less agog and accepted her presence there.

In compromise, Grace instructed the staff to put on a formal luncheon on those days when the children came to the castle for their studies. She was learning to find a balance between her instinctively rebellious nature and the needs of her staff. While some servants might have rebelled against serving what amounted to a group of peasant children, her staff had embraced the opportunity to demonstrate their skill and knowledge of propriety. One thing Grace's mother had always taught her was that people want to feel needed and need to feel wanted.

In the meantime, she hoped the exposure the children received would benefit them someday if any of them ever wanted to seek employment in service. Depending on one's situation, employment in service could be a step up, possibly the difference between starvation and survival.

As they sat around the dinner table one evening, Grace asked, "Did you hear parliament passed the Importation Act?"

Rupert, nodding, was the only one to respond. "His Grace will not be pleased to hear it."

Curious, Grace asked, "What does Thomas plan to do with his tenants? Is he going to raise their rents?"

Rupert lifted his attention from his plate again and said, "Not yet. The Act is going to cause food prices to go up across the country, which will spill over onto other products, impacting farmers enough already."

"If food prices go up, then the price of everything else will increase. How will the newspaperman be able to afford to feed his family unless he raises the cost of his newspaper? How will the milliner be able to feed her family unless she raises the price of her goods?" Grace frowned as she again considered the full import of the Act.

Rupert glanced from Grace to the others at the table before answering. "It's a concern, and I'll be monitoring things closely. I send weekly reports to His Grace, and if he wants me to make any changes, I'll see to it."

Grace smiled and said, "Thank you," to Mrs. Pembroke as the woman brought a delicate pudding to the table for everyone to enjoy. Turning back to Rupert, she said, "It must be a bit odd for you."

"How so?"

"Soldier turned valet. Valet turned butler and steward of sorts."

Mr. Pembroke declared, "What's a valet without a master, I say. I'm not even sure being butler to this old place is a step up."

I dare say I may never get used to this man! He always says the oddest things at the most peculiar times.

Turning her attention to the youngest diner, Grace asked, "Elsie, how are your parents getting on?"

The girl's hazel eyes lit up, "They're both ever so grateful you let me 'ave this job, Your Grace. My da is still in a bad way, but 'e doesn't have t' worry so much anymore, and the doctor says that's good for 'im. And the kids pester Mum all week askin' when they can next come up t' the castle for learnin'. Mum is so thankful t' 'ave them out from underfoot for a spell." Elsie, who walked her younger brothers and sisters back home on the days they came for lessons, went on to say, "You should 'ave seen the look on Mum's face when Fran told her you make me bathe twice a week. I thought she was going t' faint dead away!"

At least I’m endearing myself to the locals!

Grace chuckled at the thought and said, "Let me guess. Fran wants to be like you?"

Elsie's youthful laughter filled the room. "Fran insists she'll 'eat 'er own water and fill the tub 'erself so she's no extra trouble for Mum. I don't think Mum knows 'ow t' tell 'er no. She can't punish 'er for wantin' t' be clean, now can she?"

"Clean, no," Grace said. "Fran wasn't being impertinent, was she?"
With Fran one can never tell what she might say or do next…

"Oh no, Your Grace. Fran wants so much to be a lady like you. She hasn't thrown a fit even once since you told 'er ladies don't behave that way. She hardly even fights with the other kids anymore. I know it's good and all, but it's so funny. Fran used t' be the first one t' dive into a fight fist-first. Mum always said she'd been born into the wrong body. Now suddenly she wants t' be all ladylike, and nobody knows what t' do with 'er."

All the children gathered in the great hall the next day. There were twenty of them, twenty-one counting Elsie. Grace had given the villagers two rules. In order to come, the child had to be both out of nappies and willing to follow her directions. The first day with the children had been a circus. They'd all been so excited to see inside the castle they'd not listened to a word she'd said. By necessity, Rupert had stepped in and raised his voice to get the children to settle down.

Seeing an opportunity to capitalize on their curiosity, Grace had promised them a tour of the castle on their next visit, and had then used that opportunity to teach them some of England's history. The lesson had gone splendidly until somebody had toppled over a suit of armor and the children all screamed and scattered. Apparently they all thought the thing had come to life and was going to chase them.

Grace learned a couple of important lessons that week. One, if the children showed an interest in something, capitalize on it. Two, don't keep anything on display that you aren't willing to part with.

Just this last week, she'd mentioned something about prayer, and the children had been so full of questions she'd invited the vicar to come for a visit. If it went well, she might have him back again. During church on Sundays, the children were all expected to sit mutely, and the words of the vicar were directed at the adults. When she'd spoken to the vicar about talking with the children, his eyes had lit up. She had been hopeful his enthusiasm would translate into something the children would find helpful. When the vicar had arrived earlier that morning, she'd become certain they would find the vicar's talk engaging.

"All right everyone, I need you to settle down." Grace refused to raise her voice to gain the children's attention. It had taken a little while, but the village children had learned and now generally listened so they didn't miss what she had to say. Those who sat in front quickly shushed the ones behind them, who then did the same, and so forth. Soon the entire group was quiet. They sat cross-legged on the floor with their hands folded politely in their laps as Grace had taught them.

"I'm pleased you could come today. We have a special treat in store for us. Vicar Renner has agreed to join us and tell you a little bit about what he teaches your parents on Sundays. The vicar will also be in attendance for lunch, and I hope you'll all be on your best behavior."

Some of the children began to squirm. Grace knew they had to be thinking it was going to be like sitting in church, something none of them were particularly interested in doing.
They have no idea what a treat they're in for.
"Please welcome Vicar Renner."

The children did their obligatory clapping. When the vicar casually strolled in, their clapping stopped as they all stared wide-eyed at him. "Why's 'e dressed like that?" one of the older boys asked.

"Samuel, be respectful." Grace's voice was firm. Shamefaced, the boy dropped his gaze while the boy next to him snickered. She caught that boy's eye, and he, too, glanced down.
Mum would be proud. I've learned to give The Look.

"Good morning, boys and girls," Vicar Renner said. "I know most of you by name, but I’m getting rather old, and sometimes I forget things. If I call you the wrong name, you may correct me, but you're absolutely not allowed to laugh at me. Are we clear?"

Twenty-one solemn nods were his reply.

The vicar ambled over to a young girl with curly blonde hair and said, "So tell me, Richard, how are your parents today?" The girl, eyes wide, stared at him. He said, "I used the wrong name, didn't I?" She nodded, her hair bouncing with the movement. "Let me see," he said. "I think I've got it! You're Milford, aren't you?" She shook her head. "William?" Again, she shook her head. "Miles?" This time, the tiniest little smile stretched her lips as she moved her head. "Is it Arthur?" A little bubble of laughter escaped the girl. The other children watched. Some of them were smiling, but others appeared almost afraid, as if the vicar might be setting a trap for them so he could punish them for laughing.

Finally, the vicar asked, "Well, since I'm clearly never going to guess it, can you please tell me what your name is?"

The little girl, her smile gone — no doubt chased away at the thought of having to speak to the vicar — said, "Rosalyn."

"Rosalyn! I was so close! You look exactly like a Rosalyn, too. Don't know how I could have missed that!" Then he gave her an exaggerated wink. A smile again broke across her face, and Grace could see the vicar had made a friend for life. The children sitting near young Rosalyn all grinned, too.

The vicar considered the group as a whole and said, "Somebody asked why I'm dressed like this. Was that you, Evangeline?" He was pointing directly at Samuel, the boy who'd asked the question.

Look away! Avoid all eye contact!
Grace knew that if her eyes connected with those of the vicar, she would not be able to contain her mirth.

"It's Samuel, sir," the boy said in return.

"Samuel, that's right. Thank you for not laughing," he said before turning back to Rosalyn and winking at her and the younger kids around her again, who all giggled in unison. "I decided to wear regular clothes today instead of my vestments. Would you like me to tell you why?" The children nodded, and the vicar responded, as he strode back and forth in front of the group. "A long time ago there was a man who walked on the earth. His name was Jesus of Nazareth. Has anyone heard of him?" Some of the kids raised their hands. "He was a holy man sent by God. In fact, He was God's own son."

The vicar had the children in the palm of his hand. With sweeping hand gestures and a dramatic voice, he told the story of how Jesus had been born in a barn, with a feed trough – sometimes called a manger – for his first bed. He told the tale of how Jesus had lived the life of a child whose parents worked hard to provide for and take care of Him.

"Jesus didn't get to wear fancy clothes. He didn't have vestments or robes of silk. He dressed like an ordinary man. Like you are supposed to, Jesus had to obey his parents. When He got older, He began telling people amazing things about God, His Father, but even then, He dressed like and lived with the regular people around Him. So I thought it would be nice today if I came to talk to you and was dressed like you. I'm no different than you. God called me to work in the church and be a vicar, but I'm still a mere mortal like all of you."