Amanda Scott (8 page)

“The woman must think you a ninnyhammer,” Anne said frankly, getting out of bed and donning her dressing gown, before following Maisie into the next room. The kitten scampered at her heels.

“Well, I think so,” Maisie said, adding as she handed a fresh towel to Anne and poured hot water into the basin, “but here’s the most useful bit. At half past twelve, she said, a nuncheon is set out for the family in the dining room while the servants have their dinner. So you see, Miss Anne, it is just like Rendlesham, because dinner, she said, is usually served at six. But to get back to my duties, after the servants dine, I am to attend you again in the event that you should wish to change your dress to pay calls in the neighborhood, or to visit sick or elderly tenants. When you return, I am to help you dress for dinner, then occupy myself in useful pursuits until it is time to help you prepare for bed. Indeed,” she added, primming her voice, “Mrs. Burdekin very kindly suggested that, in the meantime, I might find the opportunity to practice reading aloud, but only from books by superior authors.”

Anne stared, choking on suppressed laughter as she dried her hands. “Why on earth would you want to do any such thing?”

With a perfectly straight face and a resumption of her dignity Maisie replied, “So that when you grow old and infirm, madam, I shall acquit myself well when I am called upon to entertain you by reading aloud from such works as you will most enjoy.”

When Anne could stop laughing enough to speak again, she sat down at the dressing table to let Maisie attend to her hair, saying, “Oh, dear, I do hope you were not impertinent to her.”

“No, madam, for despite what others may think, I do know my place. I simply agreed with her where I could do so, though I made no bones about the fact that once
my
mistress is wakened in the morning, she does not dawdle abed till all hours but gets up and gets dressed at once. I further informed Mrs. Burdekin that I shall require my breakfast either before that hour or after you had gone to the breakfast parlor. Since it appears that the
superior
servants in this house do not break their fast till eight o’clock, our schedule will not require any adjustment of theirs, except perhaps where that cheeky footman of yours is concerned.”

“Goodness, did you actually say all that and look down your nose at her in that odious fashion when you spoke to her? That expression looks just like Mama’s Miss Price, Maisie!”

“I have not observed Miss Price’s habits all these years for nothing, madam,” Maisie said complacently. “A most superior woman Miss Price is.”

“I suppose she must be,” Anne agreed, though she had never warmed much to Lady Rendlesham’s stiff-as-a-poker Abigail. “Still, I hope you will not become quite such a pattern card as Price is, and pray, do not keep calling me madam. It sounds most odd coming from you, who have always called me Miss Anne.”

“Well then, I shall continue in my old ways when we are alone, Miss Anne, but I must begin as I mean to go on here, and if I am to hold my own in this stiff-rumped household, I can see I must be as pompous as even Mr. Bagshaw is, at least in the presence of the upper servants. When you’re dressed, I’ll ring for Frannie to show you to the breakfast parlor. I already put a flea in that Elbert’s ear, telling him he’d best change from his work dress into his livery, because you’d be downstairs by half past seven.”

When Anne entered the breakfast parlor twenty minutes later, she saw that the footman had taken Maisie’s advice. He was precise to a pin, although he had not yet powdered his hair. She assumed that, as was the practice in other great houses, his appearance would become more formal as the day progressed.

She discovered at once that although she was an early riser, Lord Michael had already had his breakfast and left the house, and she was just as glad, for she felt shy of him after the events of the previous night and wanted time to collect herself before they next encountered each other. Finding that she had the breakfast room to herself, she asked if anyone else might be joining her.

“His Grace be still abed,” Elbert said, turning at once to the sideboard. “He generally takes his breakfast in his bedchamber. And Lord Ashby don’t take it at all. Stays up late with his papers and contrivances, he does—for he’s always got some newfangled notion in his head—and then he sleeps till noon.”

Accepting without comment the plate the footman had prepared for her while he talked, but requesting coffee in place of the ale he set out for her, she asked him to inform Mrs. Burdekin that she wished to speak with her after breakfast.

“Yes, madam. I am to take you to the housekeeper’s room when you have finished. Mrs. Burdekin said she would hold herself in readiness to explain the household schedule to you.”

Concealing her astonishment, Anne said calmly, “You may tell Mrs. Burdekin that I will receive her here when I have finished breaking my fast, Elbert, since neither His Grace nor Lord Ashby will make an appearance. And henceforth,” she added, “I would prefer that you describe the various dishes prepared for breakfast, so that I can make my own selection.”

Smiling and unabashed, Elbert said, “Mr. Bagshaw said I should begin by giving you a taste of each one, madam, so that you might more quickly become conversant with what dishes we generally serves for breakfast here.”

“That is no doubt an excellent notion,” Anne agreed, hiding a smile at his careful pronunciation of
conversant,
which was clearly the butler’s word and not his own, “but I will not eat half of what you have served me. Moreover, Elbert, I do not intend to discuss the matter at length with you. Please just do as I request.”

“Yes, madam, certainly.” He poured her coffee and set the cup and saucer near her right hand, adding, “If that will be all for the moment, madam, I shall go and tell Mrs. Burdekin that you wish to speak with her here.”

When he had gone, she breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been the least discomposed by her reproof, but she did not want to set the servants against her from the outset by continuous carping and correcting. No doubt they would rub along together well enough once the household staff came to understand her ways, but so far, the upper servants seemed to be treating her like a guest, and a rather backward guest at that. Their behavior was disconcerting, but she knew what her grandmother would recommend as a remedy.

“Be firm without being severe,” the Dowager Lady Rendlesham had advised Anne on numerous occasions when she had descended upon the family. “Be kind without being familiar.” The welfare and good character of any household, according to the earl’s autocratic mama, depended upon the active supervision of its mistress, whose aim ought to be to manage with economy but without parsimony. Anne could almost hear her now, speaking her favorite maxims aloud.

She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that the late Duchess of Upminster had not taken such an active role in her household, that by and large the upper servants had managed the house. That it seemed to run smoothly was evidence of their abilities, but Anne knew well that eventually, without proper supervision, problems would arise. Moreover, since by both habit and training she was accustomed to watch closely over her household, the servants might as well learn her ways quickly.

The housekeeper made her appearance while Elbert, having cleared the dishes, was removing the baize cloth from the table. Anne was gazing out a nearby window, which faced the east and the sun rising over the hill behind the house. Though leaves and branches had been blown about by the storm, making the grounds even more untidy than before, everything looked fresh and sparkling. A light mist rose from the ground as the dampness evaporated, and the day promised to be a glorious one.

She dismissed Elbert when the housekeeper arrived but did not sit down again. Nor did she invite Mrs. Burdekin to do so.

“I will not keep you long,” Anne said. “I can see that the household is well in hand, and I make you my compliments.”

“Thank you, your ladyship,” the woman said complacently.

The housekeeper was a little taller than Anne, with light brown hair smoothed neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Black bombazine encased her compact figure, and around her waist she wore a golden cord, to which was attached a ring of keys that clinked musically when she moved.

“I presume that you have begun spring cleaning,” Anne went on, “and so I shall want a copy of your schedule of service to the various rooms of the house. I shall also want to see the menus each day, of course, to approve them, and your linen lists.”

“Traditionally, Mr. Bagshaw approves the daily menus, madam.”

“No doubt he has done so in the past, Mrs. Burdekin, at least since the late duchess’s death, but I shall relieve him of that task now that I am here.”

“I will speak to him,” the woman said calmly. “As to spring cleaning, it’s not what you would call really well in hand as yet. What with his lordship’s saying the house is to remain shut to the public—and a good thing that is, in my opinion—we did not deem it necessary just at present to set everything at sixes and sevenses.”

“I quite understand that matters have been unsettled these past months,” Anne said, “and gentlemen—at least, in my experience—frequently do not understand that certain tasks must be accomplished with stern regularity if the house is not to fall down around their ears. But you and I, Mrs. Burdekin, know what must be done, particularly in a house as large as this one. I will leave it to you to draw up a list of tasks and a schedule for attending to them. I know you are presently short-staffed, so if you need extra help for rough work, I will arrange for that, as well. I know, at Rendlesham, we always bring in extra girls from the village to help with the spring cleaning.”

“Yes, madam.” But Mrs. Burdekin’s tone was doubtful. Anne did not press the matter, preferring first to see what the housekeeper accomplished on her own. She said, “Before you go, there is one other matter that I wish to mention. I am persuaded that we can make do with fewer wax candles, and since the worst of winter is past, we can certainly dispense with the practice of lighting fires in all the public rooms every day.”

“His Grace likes a fire in every room, madam.”

“His Grace? The young duke?” Anne did not trouble to hide her astonishment. Andrew had not struck her as one who would notice if the state bedchamber fire had been kindled or not.

Mrs. Burdekin flushed. “His late Grace, I should have said, madam. Duke Edmund was most particular about such things.”

“Yes, well, I can see that you have continued to go on as he liked you to do, but economy is necessary in any well-run household, as I am sure you know. We can easily dispense with quite half of those fires. Make a list, Mrs. Burdekin, and inform the servants who attend to such matters that they are to light fires in half the rooms one night, the other half the next—only in those rooms the family does not use daily, of course, but you know that without my telling you. Now then, if you will show me the kitchens, dairies, still rooms, linen presses, and so forth. I’ll look round the rest of the house on my own later.”

Though she looked surprised by the request, Mrs. Burdekin obliged, but Anne could not flatter herself that the interview had gone well. By exerting herself to compliment the woman whenever she found an opportunity to do so, she hoped when they parted two hours later that Mrs. Burdekin at least respected her knowledge of the effort necessary to manage a large house; however, even that respect could not be taken for granted, for Mrs. Burdekin had certainly not agreed when Anne had pointed out near the end of their cursory tour that although the huge kitchen fireplace seemed to be equipped with an astonishing array of contrivances for roasting, boiling, baking, stewing, frying, steaming, and heating—including three clockwork bottle-jacks and a smoke jack designed to turn spits by a heat-propelled vane in the chimney—it was woefully lacking in cinder guards or even a proper fender.

“There ought at least to be a bucket of water nearby,” she said, “in case of accident.”

“We’ve no need of such,” Mrs. Burdekin said placidly. “Our water is piped right to the kitchen, madam, as you saw. Lord Ashby contrived it so three years ago, just as he has contrived other labor-saving devices here and elsewhere round the Priory. With water so handy, there can be no need to add to the clutter around the fireplace with another bucket. As to guards and such, I can assure you that if more were needed, we would have them.”

Anne was not convinced, but she was tired and had by that time had enough of Mrs. Burdekin’s company. She had also had enough of being indoors on such a lovely day, and wanted to look over the gardens. With this object in mind, she parted with the housekeeper and had turned toward the family wing to change her shoes and fetch a cloak, when, passing one of the salons, she overheard a cry of protest, instantly hushed.

Curious, she pushed open the salon door, confounding the two persons inside. Elbert stepped hastily away from the housemaid, straightening his shoulders and assuming his footman’s dignity like a familiar garment. The maid, slender but curvaceous, and very attractive even in the plain stuff frock, crisp white apron, and mobcap she wore, was not so quick to recover her composure.

Sunlight streaming through a pair of tall windows, revealed her reddened cheeks and the spark of anger and confusion in her blue-green eyes. She held a feather duster uplifted in one hand, as if she had been about to strike the young man. Now, in some consternation, she lowered the duster to her side and, bobbing a hasty curtsy, said, “Did you require assistance, your ladyship?”

It was not the first time in her life that Anne had interrupted such a scene, nor was it the first time she had had cause to deal with budding personal relationships among members of her household staff. But in general, both culprits had looked equally guilty. In this instance Elbert said coolly, “Were you looking for me, my lady?”

Anne’s gaze shifted from the blushing, indignant maidservant to the footman. “What are you doing in here, Elbert?”

He showed her a rag he held in one hand, saying glibly, “The looking glass over the table yonder has got fly specks all over it. Mr. Bagshaw wanted it cleaned, and he don’t trust the younger lads with anything so fragile. Since I didn’t have time to attend to it before your ladyship came to breakfast, I’m doing it now.”