"Stephen, surely we can't allow—"
"We can't not allow it, my love," he corrected his wife gently, looking at Cora. "Are you certain you have thought this through, Miss Notley?"
"I have, sir, and I am determined. I will report tomorrow morning for my first day." She paused, choosing her next words with caution. "I know you think I am about to commit a monumental folly, but it is my folly to make, is it not?"
His lips lifted slightly at that. "It is."
Mrs. Shepherd cast a warning glance at her husband. "Yes, but you are under our care now, and it is therefore our duty to make certain that you understand the consequences of your choice. Please consider carefully before you move forward with this."
"Tanglewood feels so hollow." Cora blurted, needing them to understand. "When I first entered its walls, it seemed to be missing its heart and I didn't much care for the place at all. But after I had spoken with Mr. Ludlow, I felt… differently. I no longer believe Tanglewood has no heart. I believe it's merely broken and in need of fixing."
Cora pressed her lips together, trying to form her emotions into words. "I should very much like for my life to serve a purpose—to do something good, something of value, something that will make me feel useful and needed. This afternoon I have been offered such an opportunity, and I would like to take it. My decision is no longer about running away or making myself appear less desirable to the likes of Sir Gowen. It is about discovering what capabilities I have outside of the drawing room and exploring any and all possibilities. Tarnishing my reputation is merely a perk."
Mr. Shepherd smiled a little. "I believe you are the only young lady of my acquaintance who views a tarnished reputation as a perk."
An answering smile lifted Cora's mouth. "If you ever have the unlucky experience of meeting Sir Gowen, I daresay you would consider it a positive as well."
"I hope never to have such an opportunity."
Mrs. Shepherd's brow remained creased. "Tell me, Cora, what was your opinion of Mr. Ludlow?"
"Mr. Ludlow?" Cora thought back to the moment she had laid eyes on the man. She had noticed his height immediately and had been surprised by how young he looked. He couldn't be much more than thirty. He was also handsome, but not in the usual way of gentlemen. He had allowed his hair to grow longer than was fashionable and kept it a bit unruly. But it seemed to fit him, as though he was a bit unruly or even untamed. He moved and spoke with an air of intelligence and confidence, and his striking green eyes had made her feel transparent. When he smiled, a charming dimple had appeared on his left cheek. The sight of it had the most perplexing effect on her stomach—almost like a tickle, but not quite.
Cora nearly touched her stomach at the memory, but quickly chided herself for such silliness. Goodness, she was about to be the man's housekeeper, not his partner for the next dance. She needed to remember her place and not allow her mind to dwell on Mr. Ludlow despite his pleasing appearance and mysterious ways.
Cora forced her mind to other things she had noticed—his kindness, professionalism, and candor—and finally gave Mrs. Shepherd an answer. "I thought him intelligent, eloquent, and fair. I made my inexperience known, he stated his expectations, and… well, he seemed pleased enough with my answers to offer me a chance."
"You were perfectly clear about your… er, abilities?" Mrs. Shepherd pressed.
"Or lack thereof?" Cora smiled. If she had made anything perfectly clear, it had been that. "Yes, I most certainly did."
She frowned. "And he still offered you the position."
"Yes."
"I see." Mrs. Shepherd lapsed into a thoughtful silence, saying nothing more. Cora found herself wondering what the woman saw that she didn't. Had Mr. Ludlow been wrong to offer her the position? Did Mrs. Shepherd believe he'd taken leave of his senses?
Perhaps he had, thought Cora with a frown of her own.
When Mrs. Shepherd spoke again, she seemed to choose her words carefully. "While I cannot condone this plan, I do agree with Mr. Shepherd that we are in no position to tell you what you may or may not do with your life. If you truly mean to go through with this, all I can offer you is my hope that the experience is everything you want it to be. But if it is not, or if you find yourself in a situation that you no longer wish to be in, please know that you always have a place here with us."
"Yes," agreed Mr. Shepherd. "And we would very much like for you to pay us a visit on the first afternoon you have free. We will be most anxious for news."
Cora nodded as a feeling of nervousness settled around her. The tension in the air made it seem as though the Shepherds foresaw something she didn't. But what?
"Thank you for your kindness to me," said Cora. "If you truly will not mind having a housekeeper call on you, I will most certainly visit."
"You can come as a scullery maid and we would welcome you with open arms," said Mr. Shepherd.
Cora's heart warmed at his words. "That is good to hear. I'm very much afraid that once Mr. Ludlow realizes the full extent of my incompetence, he will surely reduce me to the scullery."
The comment produced a smile from Mrs. Shepherd. It was only a small one that didn't quite reach her eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless. Cora would have to content herself with that.
"You will probably be given a few uniforms for your work," said Mrs. Shepherd. "But I should think that you will want something more than what you brought with you to wear on your afternoons off. Since you have denied me the opportunity to take you on a shopping excursion, would you allow me to outfit you with a few of my older gowns instead? We seem to be of a similar height and size. I'm certain we can find a few things that will fit you nicely."
Cora would never admit it out loud, but one of the most difficult things about leaving Danbury—aside from saying goodbye to Lady Harriett—was walking away from her extensive wardrobe. Her father had insisted that she be as well dressed as any of the gentry, and Cora had never fought him on that score. What woman didn't enjoy having lovely clothes to wear? It was one of the blessings of wealth she would miss most.
She looked gratefully at Mrs. Shepherd. "I should like that very much."
"I am glad to hear it. Why don't you go up to your room, and I will meet you there in a short while?"
Cora nodded and rose slowly, feeling strangely hesitant to leave. As she walked down the hall and up the grand staircase, she thought of how drastically her life was about to change. Today, she was a welcomed and honored guest returning to her lavish bedchamber. On the morrow, she would take on the role of a servant—one who would be required to look for dust and discrepancies rather than be at liberty to enjoy the beauty surrounding her.
Once she reached the landing, Cora realized she had left her favorite bonnet on the settee. Turning around, she quickened her steps down the stairs. Geoffries was nowhere to be seen, so Cora lifted her hand to knock on the library door, only to be stopped by the voices of Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd coming through a small crack.
"But we know so little about him," Mrs. Shepherd was saying. "He may seem charming and kind at social engagements, but he has never been forthcoming with personal information and is still a mystery to everyone in town. We don't even know what brought him to Askern, let alone where he came from. What if he is no gentleman at all? Surely he could see that Cora has been well educated and brought up in a situation of some wealth. One look at her gown and bonnet would make that much obvious, to say nothing of her refined speech. I cannot help but wonder at his reasons for hiring a beautiful young woman who is not skilled at all in housekeeping. I own, I am fearful for her safety."
"My dear, you must calm yourself," urged Mr. Shepherd in that tranquil way he seemed to approach every situation. "Mr. Ludlow has always behaved as a gentleman, and until proven otherwise, he must remain a gentleman. That said, I do think it is past time that we further our acquaintance with our nearest neighbor, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," Mrs. Shepherd said. "I have a great many questions I should like him to answer.
"
Mr. Shepherd chuckled. "You mean to interview him as he has interviewed our Cora?"
"I think it only fair I should be allowed to do so," she said.
He laughed. "And we shall, together. But not overtly, of course. Rather, we will probe and question in a subtle, neighborly way so that Mr. Ludlow will be none the wiser."
"And should we detect even the smallest amount of indecency in him, you must promise that you will remove Cora from Tanglewood immediately."
"Of course." A moment of silence followed before Mr. Shepherd's voice sounded again. "Something is still bothering you. What is it?"
"I feel as though we are sending our kitten to the wolves. Perhaps I worry too much."
"It does you credit, my love. But off you go now. Cora is surely awaiting your arrival with the promised gowns."
Cora quickly spun around, lifted her skirts, and raced back up the stairs and into her room. She closed the door and let her breath come out in heavy spurts. Only moments before she had felt like a confident woman ready to take on the world, but now she felt young and naïve, like a fanciful schoolgirl who had no notion of what the real world was like. Her heart pounded in the most unnerving way, and for the first time since accepting the position, Cora experienced doubt.
"It's about time you got 'ere." Mrs. Caddy was a short, round woman with frizzy gray curls held down by a white cap. She stood bent over a large mound of dough, kneading it with strong hands. When she glanced up, her expression looked haggard and cross, as though Cora's appearance came as an annoyance rather than a relief. "The maids 'ave been up for 'ours."
Cora tightened her hold on her bag and reminded herself that she answered to Mr. Ludlow and not to Mrs. Caddy. "Mr. Ludlow said that I should come in the morning. He did not specify a time, and I did not think you would like me to arrive during the frenzy of breakfast preparations, so I have come now instead."
"Of course you did. Why come earlier, when you could leave me ter arrange the trays meself?" Mrs. Caddy said with a huff.
She used the plural form of tray as though a regiment of soldiers resided here and not one man. Cora lifted a brow. "Is Mr. Ludlow entertaining guests at the moment, or did you mean to say I left you with his tray to arrange?" Cora attempted to soften her words with a smile.
Unfortunately, the smile did not serve its purpose. Cora was awarded a solid glare before Mrs. Caddy began pounding away at the ball of dough. Cora supposed she should be grateful the woman took to abusing the dough and not her.
"Could you direct me to my room, Mrs. Caddy?" Cora asked, not sure where to go. The maid who had answered the door had led her to the kitchen then left without a word.
"Up the stairs, first room on the right."
"Thank you."
"Be warned that mine's the second room, and I'm told me snore can wake the dead."
"Of course it can," Cora muttered under her breath as she lugged her bags towards the stairs. With all the new gowns Mrs. Shepherd had provided her, Cora had needed additional luggage. She felt the burden of it now.
A gangly footman with a mop of blond curls and freckles stopped her progress by reaching for her bag. "I'd be 'appy to 'elp if you like. My name's 'Arry. I take it you're ter be the new 'ousekeeper? Mrs. Notley, is it?"
"Yes, and I would be grateful—"
"You'll be doin' nothin' of the kind, 'Arry," called the cook. "You'd best finish polishin' that silver or Watts'll be polishin' your backside."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Lest you be forgettin', Mrs. Caddy, I take my orders from Watts and not you."
"Don't be gormless. That's what I said—that Watts'd be polishin' your backside, not me."
Harry chose to ignore the comment and winked at Cora. "Let me be the first ter give you a proper welcome ter Tanglewood, Mrs. Notley. In case you 'aven't noticed, people 'ere are a bit tangled too—Mrs. Caddy bein' the worst of the lot. 'Appen you're here ter sort us all out."
"Sort you out, more like," Mrs. Caddy said.
"Never mind 'er," said Harry loud enough for Mrs. Caddy to hear. "She's just a crotchety old 'ag who don't like no one or nothin'."
Based on her brief interaction with the woman, Cora could not disagree with Harry's assessment. She followed him up the stairs, grateful for at least one friendly face. Harry deposited her bag just inside the door before winking at her again. "You be needin' anythin' else, Mrs. Notley?"
"No, thank you, Harry. It seems I am in your debt."
His smile turned devilish, and his eyes perused her person. He leaned a shoulder against the wall. "'Ow grateful are you, exactly?"
Not appreciating his tone or insinuation, Cora frowned at him and folded her arms. "If you are expecting more from me than a thank you, Harry, you will be disappointed. I am a housekeeper, not a trollop."
Harry's face reddened, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "My apologies, Mrs. Notley. I was just 'avin' a little fun is all. Didn't mean nothin' by it, I swear."
Cora sighed, not wanting to make enemies with the one person who had been kind to her. "Fun is all well and good, Harry," she said. "But not at the expense of a person's reputation. I will gladly accept your apology if you will accept my offer of friendship and only friendship."
His smile returned, along with an approving glint in his eyes. He shoved away from the wall. "I think you're goin' ter get on fine 'ere, Mrs. Notley. Truth be told, I'd be glad ter call you friend. Good ones are 'ard ter come by round 'ere."
"Friends it is then," she replied, grateful he had not taken offense at her words. "Thank you again for your help with my bag."
"If'n you ever need anythin', just give me a holler, and I'll come runnin'." He brushed past her and trotted down the stairs, his slightly too-long arms dangling awkwardly at his sides. He looked to be a few years older than Cora but seemed younger somehow.
She released a deep breath and stepped into her new room. Compared to what she was used to, this space was small and plain, but it also happened to be larger than she had expected, likely because it was the housekeeper's room. It contained a bed, a wardrobe, and even a comfortable looking chair. Above the bed, a small window looked out over the wilderness area at the side of the house and let in a fair amount of light. Cora smiled at the sight, knowing any free time she might have could be pleasantly spent right here.
Cora hurried to unpack her few things, including the three extra gowns Mrs. Shepherd insisted on giving her. They were lovely creations of pink, peach, and blue muslin that complemented Cora's darker complexion, adding some cheerful color to her plain and pitiful wardrobe. On top of the chest she found four light gray dresses, white aprons, and a few caps. She touched them gingerly, trying not to compare their drabness to the gowns she had recently unpacked.
Once settled, she changed into her new uniform, tied the apron around her waist, and placed the cap on her head. The small looking glass above the bed afforded her only a glimpse of her head. She turned her face from one side to the other, examining her new look. Not too terrible, she thought, even if it did make her look a mite pale.
Knowing Mrs. Caddy was likely working herself into an even greater state of petulance, Cora gave the room one last glance before returning downstairs to where Mrs. Caddy was now rolling out the beaten dough on the table. Cora approached with caution.
"Do you know where I might find Mr. Ludlow?" she asked.
"He's assessin' the estate with the land steward," came the cook's reply. She continued to roll the dough, not bothering to say anything more.
"Oh." Cora glanced around the kitchen, at a loss as to what to do or where to go. Mr. Ludlow knew that she would arrive this morning. Surely he hadn't thought she could assume her duties with what little information they'd discussed during their initial meeting. Cora needed at least some direction, and from the coolness of Mrs. Caddy's reception, it would not come from her.
Sally chose that moment to enter the kitchen. She took one look at Cora, and her eyes narrowed. "I suppose I'm ter report ter you now."
"Yes," Cora answered, struggling to feign a confidence she did not feel. The woman was at least five years her senior and taller to boot. It was obvious she despised the idea of reporting to someone younger and less experienced. If Cora did not tread carefully, things between them could get sticky. She needed to find a way to "manage" Sally in a way that would not make her feel managed.
"It's Sally, is it not?"
"Aye, Mrs. Notley." Sally sounded more demeaning than respectful.
Cora pushed aside her irritation and mustered a cheery tone. "Considering it is my first day and I am unfamiliar with Tanglewood, I was hoping you would be willing to show me around."
Sally immediately bristled and appeared ready to give Cora a set down, but she seemed to rethink her reaction, and her scorn was replaced with a calculating look. The smile she offered Cora was anything but genuine.
"I'd be 'appy to show you 'round, Mrs. Notley."
Cora suddenly wished she could withdraw the request, but now that it had been extended and accepted, all she could do was say, "Thank you, Sally."
"'Ow about we start off in the still room?" Sally gestured to a doorway on the other side of the kitchen and started towards it, not waiting for Cora's answer.
Cora followed at a slower pace, half expecting to be assaulted the moment she stepped in the room, but the maid stayed several paces away. Cora did not know what to think of the woman. Perhaps this was her way of attempting to be nice? As the housekeeper, Cora did have the power to dismiss her, after all.
Cora glanced around the room, seeing that it did, indeed, look still. And cramped. A massive wooden table stood in the middle, holding all sorts of interesting gadgets and instruments. She had never seen most of them before and could only imagine what they were used for. Drying herbs hung from a string across one wall, and two other walls were lined with shelves filled with bottles, jars, and pots of all different sizes and shapes. The last wall contained a stove that heated a large pot of something. The steam rising from the top made the room stuffy and hot. Already, Cora was beginning to perspire. She looked around, trying not to be dismayed at the prospect of needing to frequent this room. If not for the small window in the back corner and the light it allowed into the room, she might have considered dismissing herself and making a dash back to Knotting Tree.
The Rise of Miss Notley (Tanglewood Book 2) Page 4