Feeling suddenly out of charity with her hosts, Cora stabbed at the eggs on her plate and took a frustrated bite. With or without their confidence, she would apply to the butler at Tanglewood this very afternoon for the housekeeping position. If he found her as unqualified as he likely would, she would beg for a job in the scullery instead.
Before Cora lost her nerve, she raised her fist and rapped loudly on the door of the service entrance. While she waited for it to open, she rubbed her tender knuckles and looked around. Both the house and the grounds had an aged beauty about them, but in contrast to the warm and welcoming feeling that had surrounded Knotting Tree, the feeling at Tanglewood was decidedly unwelcoming. She couldn't explain why, exactly. Perhaps it was the gardeners who had barely flicked a glance at her, the maid who refused to look up when she passed by only moments before, or the way her knock had echoed hollowly from inside, as though the walls of the house were nothing but a cavernous shell. Whatever it was, Cora didn't care for it.
The door opened with a creak, and a woman a few years older and several inches taller answered. She wore a white cap, a gray dress, and a once-white apron that had become a dingy gray. Her red hair was neatly tucked back into a tight bun, and her cold, gray eyes narrowed as she inspected the newcomer. "You be needin' somethin'?"
Did no one smile on this property? thought Cora as she forced a cheerful reply. "I should like to apply to the butler for the position of housekeeper, if you please."
The woman's eyes widened slightly before her lips curled into a sneer. She barked out a laugh. "You? A 'ousekeeper?" Another grating laugh sounded.
Cora was grateful for the maid's reaction. It annoyed her enough to reaffirm her resolve, and she found it easy to meet the woman's gaze squarely. "If you would be so kind as to tell the butler that Miss Notley is here to see him, I would be most grateful." Cora wished she had thought to ask Katy the name of the butler.
"If I'd be so kind," mimicked the maid in a mocking tone. She chortled as she left Cora standing on the step while she went in search of the butler, or at least Cora hoped that's where she'd gone. She sighed and took a step back from the house, glancing up at the gray stone walls. What sort of people worked and lived inside? For most of her life, the only people who had ever been kind to Cora were her family's servants. Her governess, especially. They had been the ones to show Cora the difference between coarseness and refinement, disinterest and genuine concern, tolerance and love. She had assumed all servants were as kind. Apparently, that was not the case. Would the butler laugh at her as well?
Cora was left to simmer for what felt like an eternity. When the maid finally reappeared, her mocking expression had been replaced with a sour glare. Cora found the change intriguing.
"Mr. Ludlow wants ter speak with you right away." The maid turned on her heel, leaving Cora in a state of shock. Mr. Ludlow? As in the owner of this cavernous house—the employer Katy described as exacting and cantankerous? Heavens. To think she had been worried about the butler laughing her out of the house. What would Mr. Ludlow say or do? A job as a scullery maid seemed highly unlikely now.
Left with no other options, Cora drew in a deep breath and forced her feet forward. At least she would have a good tale to tell when she returned to Knotting Tree sufficiently humbled.
Jonathan stared at the charcoal ashes in the large fireplace as he rested his hand on the polished stone mantle. It glistened from the afternoon light coming through the two large windows on the western side of the house. Letting his arm drop to his side, he wandered over to the nearest window and peered out over his vast estate. The views from this spot made his study one of his favorite rooms in the house. The pristine pond, the untamed wilderness, the immaculate gardens—it could all be seen from this prime vantage point. He found the sight most inspiring, especially when he thought back to the wretched state Tanglewood had been in only fifteen months prior. Now look at it. It was breathtaking and magnificent, just as he had hoped it would one day become.
If only his servants could inspire as much hope in him.
Jonathan clasped his hands behind his back and frowned. In the short fifteen months that he had owned Tanglewood, he had already been through several stablehands, a few footmen, and a handful of maids—not to mention three housekeepers. Three! He could not understand it. Had the overall integrity of people decayed so regrettably that no one could be trusted these days? If not for his butler, steward, and valet, Jonathan would have no faith left in humanity.
"Sir, Miss Notley's 'ere to see you."
"Thank you, Sally. You may send her in." Sally seemed like a good enough girl. She had a surliness about her that he didn't care for, but she was a hard and dependable worker. For that he was grateful.
Jonathan turned from the window as a woman walked into the room—a young woman, far younger than any housekeeper he had ever hired. She couldn't be more than twenty. Even more perplexing was her gown. Though simple, it was well made and finer than most in her station. The bonnet she carried appeared finer still.
Rather than drop her gaze to the ground and offer him a quick curtsy as most would have done, she met his gaze with lovely blue eyes. Honest eyes. Telling eyes. Eyes that told of her anxiety and determination, along with her surprise. Apparently Jonathon wasn't what she had expected either. Perhaps she had pictured him older, uglier, or stodgier, as he had pictured her.
He gestured to an armchair adjacent to the fireplace. "Would you care to take a seat, Miss Notley?"
"I would. Thank you, Mr. Ludlow." Her cultured speech further surprised him. She moved gracefully towards the chair and sat down on the edge of her seat. The light from the windows glinted off her hair. He could see now that the color was a rich auburn rather than the dark brown he had first supposed. Smooth and shiny, it had obviously been well cared for.
Who was this woman, and where had she come from? Jonathan had never laid eyes on her before. He was certain that if he'd caught even a glimpse of her, he would have remembered those blue eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. She was quite beautiful.
"I have been told you are here to inquire after the housekeeping position," he said for clarification. Perhaps he had misunderstood Sally. He felt as though he should be offering her some refreshment, not interviewing her for a position.
Miss Notley pressed her lips together for a moment before squaring her shoulders. "That is correct, sir."
He continued to watch her, wondering about the circumstances that had brought her to this point. "You are not from around here, are you?" he asked.
"I have come from Essex."
"Essex is a far cry from Yorkshire. What has brought you this far north?"
She swallowed and seemed to choose her words carefully. "I was in need of a change, sir."
"A change of scenery?" he inquired.
She hesitated a moment. "A change in circumstances."
Jonathan waited for her to continue but she did not. What did that mean, exactly? Surely a housekeeping position was not a change most people would desire. Unless… Was she running away from something? Or, more likely, someone?
"You are not in some sort of trouble with the law, are you?"
"No." Her shoulders relaxed somewhat. "I have committed no wrongs in the eyes of the law, I assure you. I am a person of integrity."
Jonathan had no reason to continue to pry into her personal matters, but her cryptic answers intrigued him. What had brought her here and why did she wish to be his housekeeper? Was Miss Notley even her real name? She claimed to be a person of integrity, but was she truly?
Jonathan had dismissed his previous housekeeper only two days before, so Miss Notley must have already been in Askern. Where was she staying? At the inn? "Might I enquire as to how you came to hear about the housekeeping position?"
"Of course. Katy Thompson is… an acquaintance of mine. I believe she once worked as a maid in this house and is currently employed at Knotting Tree."
Knotting Tree, mused Jonathan, mentally addi
ng another piece to the riddle that was Miss Notley. Were the Shepherds acquaintances of hers as well? No, how could they be? If she was a guest at Knotting Tree, she wouldn't be here looking for work. Perhaps she was a relative of Katy's, though he found that unlikely as well.
"I remember Katy Thompson," mused Jonathan. The chit had flirted outrageously with any male servant, causing a great deal of mischief in his household. Jonathan had put up with it until he caught her kissing one of his stablehands during working hours. Having no tolerance for any sort of dishonesty, they had both been dismissed immediately.
Jonathan took a seat across from Miss Notley and studied her for a moment. "Forgive my bluntness, but you seem very… young to be seeking such a position."
She raised her chin a notch. "I am not quite two and twenty, sir, but whether that is young, old, or exactly right is a matter of opinion. To the elderly, I may seem very young indeed, but to a babe, I would appear quite ancient. The question you must answer for yourself is whether I am the right person for the position or not."
Jonathan found her frankness refreshing and even smiled a little. "Are you the right person for the position?" he asked.
"That is for you to determine. Not I."
"Ah." His smile widened as he settled back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. "Well, Miss Notley, you should be glad to know you have passed the first test."
Her brows drew together in confusion. "What test was that, sir?"
"That you recognize me as the commanding figure in this household. I must admit that you strike me as the sort of person who might be prone to overstepping the bounds of my authority."
Her gaze dropped to her lap for a moment before meeting his once more. "I cannot deny that I may overstep, as you put it, but if I do, you may feel free to set me firmly back in my place. I shall go without complaint, I assure you."
Her reply elicited a chuckle from him. Jonathan could not remember ever having such an interesting interview before. "Tell me of your qualifications," he said.
Panic appeared on her face, and she quickly averted her gaze to her lap. "Yes, of course. My qualifications…" her voice trailed off and her forehead furrowed.
Jonathan brushed his chin with his index finger, enjoying the way she fidgeted and squirmed. "It must be an extensive list if you cannot know where to begin," he said dryly.
She drew her lower lip into her mouth for a moment before allowing it to go free. The look she finally directed towards him was one of chagrin. "Actually, sir, the list is not so extensive as that."
Trying to hide his mirth, he asked, "Can you tell me at least one thing that might recommend you?"
She cast her eyes about the room as though looking for inspiration. When her gaze landed on his desk, she brightened. "I have a solid head for numbers, sir."
"My steward manages most of the accounts."
"Oh." She bit her lip again and frowned before brightening once more. "I am an adequate manager of people."
"Only adequate?" Jonathan couldn't help the chuckle that erupted with the words. Her forehead creased again, and he could practically see her mind churning. She was probably thinking over every encounter she ever had, attempting to judge if that made her more than adequate with people or not.
"Tell me this, Miss Notley," Jonathan said, feeling an unaccountable desire to rescue her. "Could you see to it the maids perform their duties with precision and in a timely way?"
"Certainly."
"Could you dismiss a maid if she fails to accomplish what is expected and search out a suitable replacement?"
"Of course."
"Could you handle the marketing of household and grocery items and work in conjunction with my cook, Mrs. Caddy, to make sure that the pantry and larder are well stocked at all times?"
Miss Notley was a little slower to answer that question. "I believe so."
Jonathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "A housekeeper must account for all linens, silverware, soaps, candles, and the like. In other words, the store room would be entirely under your management as well." He allowed her to mull over those duties for a moment before adding, "You say you have a solid head for numbers, so I'm assuming the responsibilities of inventory and provisioning should not be a problem for you."
"No, sir." Based on the way her back straightened slightly, she seemed to take at least a little confidence from that.
"When I have dinner guests," Jonathan continued, "Mrs. Caddy prepares the food, but the housekeeper sees to it that it is served in a pleasing, organized, and timely fashion. Is that something you would feel comfortable overseeing?"
"Certainly," she said, though the word sounded a bit strangled as though she had to force it out.
"Lastly, there's the matter of the still room, which is also managed by the housekeeper. We have a maid specific to that room who will be at your disposal, but a housekeeper must know how to do everything from pounding sugars and drying herbs to pickling vegetables, making preserves and vinegars, distilling waters, and even brewing a soothing tea whenever I feel a headache coming on."
Eyes large and round, Miss Notley stared at him with something akin to horror. Jonathan could barely refrain from laughing. He pressed his lips together to keep them from twitching and waited patiently for her answer.
She finally cleared her throat, and when she spoke, her voice was strong and confident. "I can read a recipe card and follow its directions with precision. I am also handy with the needle."
"My valet and the laundry maid typically do the mending."
She let out a breath, and her shoulders slumped as though she had finally recognized the futility of this interview. "Of course."
Jonathan steepled his fingers under his chin and considered her, wondering what to do. She was grossly unqualified, that much was certain, and he would be a fool to hire such a person. Yet there was something about her that gave him pause. Her frank honesty, perhaps? Her obvious vulnerability? Her show of inner strength? Could she, as she implied, learn how to be a decent housekeeper if given the opportunity?
"Might I see your references?" he asked, grasping for a reason—any reason—to retain her.
Surprisingly enough, her lips began to twitch, and she uttered what sounded like a snicker. When her telling blue eyes met his they were filled with humor. "Mr. Ludlow, surely you must know by now that I haven't any references. As my obvious lack of experience can attest, all I can truly offer is a willing heart and a desire to learn, which is clearly not enough. Please forgive me for taking up so much of your time. I will see myself out."
She took her bonnet by the ribbons, and Jonathan watched her rise with mixed feelings. Offering her the position would undoubtedly cause an uproar in his household—he could already hear Mrs. Caddy grumbling about the woman's many ineptitudes. But he had never met anyone who had spoken with such honesty. It was a rare quality indeed and one he was not anxious to let slip through his fingers. She seemed intelligent enough. Perhaps she could catch on quickly. She also seemed the genuine sort who could win over and possibly unite the rest of his staff. Was it possible, once she learned her duties and settled in, that she could become the housekeeper he had been searching for?
Jonathan did not know. But she inspired a hope in him that he had never felt from another candidate.
She was almost out the door when his voice stopped her. "I feel it necessary to point out that you are overstepping the bounds, Mrs. Notley. I have not yet dismissed you."
Her body froze, and she slowly turned around. The look she gave him was one of bewilderment. "You mean Miss Notley, not Mrs. Notley, do you not?"
He rose from his chair and stepped towards her, clasping his fingers behind his back. "Married or unmarried, all housekeepers are called Mrs. as a show of respect."
Her mouth parted slightly before she snapped it closed. "You mean to say that—"
"Welcome to Tanglewood, Mrs. Notley." Jonathan had to resist the strangest urge to bow. "I pray you will be as good
at managing the female staff as you have been at managing me."
Cora returned to Knotting Tree with a lightness in her gait. In her jubilee, the distance between the two estates felt like a short jaunt away, rather than the long walk it had seemed only an hour before. She had done what she had set out to do—what the Shepherds and the saucy maid, Sally, had led her to believe she would not be able to do. She had been offered the position of housekeeper at Tanglewood. How it had come to pass, she could not say, only that it had.
Her feet skipped up the steps, and when Geoffries answered the door and led her down the long hallway to the library, her feet practically trotted across the marble floor as well. The grandness of the room, with its rows and rows of books, barely registered in Cora's mind as she sought out her host and hostess. Seated in a large wingback chair, Mr. Shepherd read from a book while Mrs. Shepherd sat at a small desk not far away, penning what appeared to be a letter. Both looked up when Cora entered. She quickly wiped the smile from her face, knowing they would not find her news nearly as pleasing as she did.
Mr. Shepherd closed his book and set it on a small table before standing and gesturing for Cora to take a seat. Mrs. Shepherd stood as well, coming to sit beside Cora on the settee.
"You appear conflicted, Cora," said Mr. Shepherd. "It has me rather intrigued. What news do you have for us?"
Cora clasped her fingers together to keep them from fidgeting. "I am conflicted, sir. While I believe the news to be most wonderful, I worry that you and Mrs. Shepherd will find it distressing."
He watched her for a moment, showing neither surprise nor concern. Mrs. Shepherd, on the other hand, could not hide her worry.
"You were offered the position," she said.
"Yes." Cora answered, almost cringing as she did so. How odd that she had known the Shepherds for less than a day and yet she desired their good opinion far more than she had ever desired it from her own mother and father.
"I see," Mr. Shepherd finally said, his expression still impassive. Cora had no idea what he was thinking and wished he could not mask his emotions so easily. She had never been able to hide how she felt.
The Rise of Miss Notley (Tanglewood Book 2) Page 3