by Janet Woods
She sucked in a breath.
‘Oh, don’t feel sorry for us. Despite his faults Pa’s threats were always surrounded by empty air. One thing we were always sure of was his love and support. He’d die rather than deliberately hurt us. Before we went to sleep that night he encouraged us to reconcile our differences. I swapped half of my imaginary horses for half of my brother’s imaginary horses, and we had a fine time chasing the ghouls from the house with our wooden swords. By morning the argument had been forgotten. But sometimes, when I see a star shooting across the sky I wonder if my mother’s soul has a connection with mine.’
‘Then the soul must exist for you because you believe in it. Just to look at the sky when darkness falls inspires me. The sky is so deep and … and … mysterious. Do you ever wonder what the soul consists of?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Apart from animal, vegetable or mineral, do you mean?’
She laughed. ‘You’re hiding yourself by being pragmatic. Why do men hide their real selves when they’re getting close to feeling emotion.’
‘Ah … emotion as related to soul, you mean? Perhaps a man’s emotion displays itself more physically than a soul connection. He likes to know he’s appreciated, to examine what he feels and make sure his heart is properly engaged and secure, and it’s not just some pretty face and a carnal dream he’s lusting after.’
True love condensed into a teaspoon of incandescence, she thought. There was a romantic hiding inside that quiet exterior. ‘What about the emotions of despair, anger, envy … love even?’
‘Ah, love … you have me there, lady. I’ve loved, and have been loved, perhaps, but I’ve never been in love, therefore I’m reluctant to shine any light of wisdom on the subject. This conversation is getting rather personal for such an early hour.’
‘Yes, you’re right, Dominic. Will you show me which one is your mother’s star?’
‘I might … one day.’
Dominic LéSayres was a sensitive but complicated man. There was a touch of the lone wolf about him – a depth she couldn’t quite fathom. He’d given her just a glimpse of himself, like a view through a keyhole. Then, as if he’d realized he’d revealed too much, he’d raised his guard.
He stood, tall and relaxed, and then bowed over her hand. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to your tasks while I exercise my horse, else he’ll be restless all day. I’ll be about an hour.’
‘Enough time to finish what I’m doing and have breakfast cooked ready for you when you get back.’ She picked up a basket. ‘I’ll walk with you. The chicken coop is behind the stable and I’ll need to collect some eggs.’
Dominic plucked his hat and gloves from the hallstand and followed after her. He hadn’t missed the unconscious use of his name. The girl trod lightly, her feet dainty on the stable cobbles, her hips adopting their own rhythm so he felt like dancing alongside her.
The air misted into the distance, though not so heavily that the horizon was completely obscured; the plants were dewed with it and the spiders’ webs drooped along the hedges like lacy collars. They were weighed down with sparkling globules and the leaves sheltered an army of ginger spiders, crouched and waiting for the sun to absorb the damp before seeking out their prey.
His horse stamped impatiently, raising a few sparks on the cobbled stable yard and he neighed a shrill greeting, his head jerking up and down. He gave a couple of small, but powerful bucks as Dominic saddled him.
Grace hastily stepped back when the horse turned an aristocratic eye her way. Argus, for that was his name, arched his neck towards her displaying an expanse of yellow teeth and pink gums, and he whuffled noisily, his lips flapping. She laughed.
‘Easy, Argus,’ he soothed. ‘You mustn’t scare the lady.’
‘He’s a handsome animal.’
‘I won him from a soldier in a card game. I think the soldier was relieved to get rid of him; it took six months to train the wildness from him.’
‘He doesn’t strike me as being particularly tame yet.’
‘He’s a strong animal and needs plenty of exercise. But he still has his moments of independence. I think he was badly treated when he was young, and he remembers it at times. Argus won’t allow anyone else to groom him without making a fuss, which is a nuisance at times.’
‘I understand our stable lad, Sam, managed to groom him.’
‘Yes, that took me by surprise. I’ll see how he went about things when I come back. Perhaps my brother will be able to find work for him in his stable.’
‘Sam would appreciate that. He loves horses and they seem to love him. My father said stallions can be dangerous if they’re not …’ She pressed her hands against her rapidly returning blush. ‘I must go and fetch the eggs.’
He grinned, lifting his eyebrow as he finished what she’d been about to say. ‘Gelded?’
She recovered quickly, lips pursed. ‘I intended to say … if they’re not handled well. Enjoy your ride, Mr LéSayres.’
‘You called me by my first name earlier.’
‘Then I must apologize for earlier.’
She was quick-minded and he’d always liked women with some bounce to them. ‘Why … don’t you like my name?’
‘Yes, I do like it. It’s a strong, saintly name, one you’d find hard to live up to, I should imagine.’
‘You’re only fifty per cent correct. I’m certainly strong.’
She waited for further comment but when he didn’t give her one she struggled on. ‘We, meaning, you and I … are too familiar with each other for such a recent acquaintance.’
‘Do you think so? We have answered to the names we were christened since birth, so why should you object if I call you Grace? Does it trouble you?’
‘Yes … no … I don’t know. It’s convention, I suppose.’
‘I’m not conventional and it’s quite apparent you’re not either. My parents didn’t go to the trouble of giving me a saintly name for it to be ignored.’
‘But why did they call you after a saint?’
His grin widened. ‘I didn’t think you’d let that pass. I was named after a maternal great-grandfather. By all accounts he wasn’t a saint either. I call the other servants by their first names and they don’t seem to mind.’
She gave an exasperated little huff. ‘Your pardon, sir, and no, they don’t object. I had forgotten my lowly status in this house. I should like to point out that, although the other servants are called by their first name, they do not reciprocate by calling you by yours.’
‘Point taken.’
‘Good.’ She reinforced it so he wouldn’t forget. ‘You are also Lady Florence’s guest … well, not quite her guest, since she’s moved on and I doubt if she’ll be receiving visitors. Actually I’m quite bemused by the nature of you as a visitor. I do know that guests, whether on business or social footing, should not occupy themselves by kissing all the servants, and a servant shouldn’t take it upon herself to greet every visitor to the house with a kiss.’
‘Be fair, Gracie, I’ve only kissed one servant, and that’s you. How many visitors have you kissed?’
‘None, sir, I am not that forward and neither do I intend to be.’
‘If it would make you feel more worthy of accepting such a liberty from me, then you can list me in your tidy mind as a businessman. My business is finance in its many guises and I’m desperately in need of a competent clerk. Take the position and from now on I promise to be more circumspect.’
She crushed her sudden flare of enthusiasm underfoot. She doubted if she could trust him, or herself, come to that. On reflection, she knew she didn’t want him to be circumspect. She didn’t want to be circumspect with him either. And she desperately needed to know she had employment to go to, else she’d be spending Christmas in the poorhouse … an unattractive proposition.
‘Couldn’t you have just asked me? Is this the opportunity you said you had in mind for me?’
‘Partly; I’m still working on how much value I could expe
ct to get for my wage before I offer you a contract.’
‘You’re a philanderer, Mr LéSayres?’ she said, pushing aside the urge to hug him tight. ‘Your contract will get you nothing more than a kick in the seat of your breeches. As for my worth, when a contract is presented I shall calculate my own to you.’
He laughed at that. ‘Don’t you like to get value for your money?’
‘Of course I do. Working in a household where I must earn enough to keep myself fed and clothed has taught me thrift. In fact, I have saved nearly everything I’ve earned so far.’
‘Which wouldn’t be much.’
‘I consider it to be quite a useful sum, since it started out as nothing but a halfpenny, and I earned that singing in the street.’
Interest came into his eyes. ‘You begged on the street? Do you realize the danger that put you in.’
She nodded. ‘It was only a song or two. Then I was offered the job at Oakford House. I daresay you’ll think I’m a trollop now.’
‘Not at all, I think you’re an enterprising young woman who is full of surprises, and you’re a lady after my own heart.’ He tipped up her chin and kissed her until she melted like winter frost on a pane of glass.
Pink-faced she fanned the heat from her cheeks with her hands. The hens kicked up a raucous din with each egg that was laid. Grace opened the coop so those who’d already done their duty could roam free and scratch in the dirt. First though came the cockerel, its feathers a glossy bronze like Dominic’s riding boots as it strutted around its small domain to organize the hens and cock-a-doodled the house servants from their beds at dawn. It was such a magnificent creature. So was Dominic.
The position he’d offered her was one she could only have dreamed of the previous week, but to even consider working for Dominic was madness. She could feel the excitement gathering force inside her, so she wanted to leap in the air and shout. It was an effort keeping her buoyant mood contained. ‘I will think on it.’
‘As you wish, but only a fool would turn down such a position.’
‘I said I will think on it,’ and she took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘Should I decide to work for you I will expect the same wage as a man would earn, and if I do allow myself to trust you and become your clerk, you must never kiss me like that again, Dominic LéSayres.’
His mouth twitched. ‘You expect me to pay you a man’s wage when you’re such a little dab of a sparrow? Already you are laying down conditions.’
When he mounted the fidgety Argus and settled himself in the saddle the fabric of his breeches tightened firm against his thighs. She closed her eyes and stamped on her imagination. When she opened them again the fact that she was standing upright and without support, surprised her.
She saw the clerk’s position sliding away and said hastily, ‘Well, perhaps I might accept less.’
His horse tossed his head and gave an impatient little snicker that sounded like a laugh.
‘Once you make a stand never back down without a fight, my Gracie. Tell me why you think you’re worth such a sum?’
‘Because you’ve offered me a position, so it’s obvious you consider me to be competent enough to employ.’
She drew in another deep breath, though was more reluctant to voice it. ‘You have conveniently forgotten the other condition.’
‘The one that forbids me from kissing you in the manner I did? If you insist, Gracie mine. No doubt I can find something equally pleasurable to replace it with. A glimpse of your smile each time we run into one another perhaps.’
‘Or laughter from me when I see you coming and run in a different direction.’
‘You flirt most delightfully.’ Tipping his hat, Dominic left her in a forward thrust of energized horsepower, fighting off the pleasurable feelings roiling inside her.
Four
The days were lost in a flurry of counting.
Lady Florence’s room was left until last, mainly because the other servants didn’t want to go in the room where death had visited. On the first breezy day Grace removed the bedding, washed it, squeezed it through the rollers of the mangle, and then hung it on the line to dry. It was now in the linen cupboard, neatly pressed and indistinguishable from the other bedding.
November came in with a gale that blew the remaining leaves from the trees and swirled the smell of bonfires into the air.
The room was still musty but at least it now lacked the personal odour of its most recent occupant. Grace threw the window wide. Superstition in the area demanded that the windows of the room of the newly dead should be opened to let the spirit escape otherwise they would haunt the place. She hoped she’d been in time. Not that she believed in ghosts, and she doubted if Lady Florence’s spirit would harm her even if she did believe in them. Even so, goosebumps trickled down her spine.
She mentally shook herself. ‘The strongbox is in that cupboard, and so are her jewels,’ she said, handing Dominic the keys. ‘I’ve replaced the gold cross and the rings that were on her fingers for part of her mourning period. They are on the top.’
Dominic lifted the exquisitely lacquered box out from its den. Gently he set it down on the table and gazed at her. ‘Do you know what it contains?’
‘Lady Florence called it her treasure. She was thrifty but she tended to hide money in odd places, and then forget about it. There are several hiding places I know of, and probably some I don’t know of. I’ve made a list of those I do know.’
He took the paper from her and his gaze ran down the list. He shook his head and gazed at her. ‘The chamber pot is used as a hiding place? I find that unbelievable!’
‘Oh, it’s quite clean since it’s never been used. Lady Florence uses … used the maid’s room next door for private purposes, and the door into the corridor was kept bolted on the inside.
‘Are you certain this container hasn’t been used, Gracie?’
She couldn’t resist it. ‘I can’t say I’ve inspected the contents recently, but there’s one way to find out, Mr LéSayres.’
‘After you, Miss Ellis.’
‘No … you may do the honours.’
Reaching under the bed he took a grip on the handle and pulled the china pot out. He lifted the lid gingerly.
‘Boo!’ she said as the lid cleared the rim. He jerked back and banged his hand on the underside of the bed.
When she laughed, he rubbed the spot and offered her a threatening look that made her laugh even more.
The chamber pot contained several coins wrapped in paper money. The loose floorboard under it yielded five gold sovereigns.
By lunchtime they’d amassed a tidy amount of money. Lady Florence hadn’t spent much of her monthly allowance on herself, though she’d been generous with others. Grace had been allowed to see what the box contained on one occasion. There had been no coins then. Lady Florence had lifted out a tray of jewellery, a diamond tiara and a necklace and earrings. She’d made Grace try it all on. It was heavy and cool against her throat, and sparkled prettily in the candlelight.
‘They belonged to my mother and I brought it into the marriage as part of my dowry,’ she’d said. ‘I have no daughter to leave it to, just a nephew.’
Grace turned to Dominic. ‘I think that’s about it and if I remember anywhere else she might have used to hide valuables, I’ll let you know.’
‘Don’t underestimate the powers of observation of the rest of the staff.’ He placed the key in the lock. ‘Before we examine the contents of this chest I need to inform you of something.’
‘Which is?’
‘Lady Florence left instructions that, with the exception of the furnishings, the contents of this room was to be your legacy. Of course, you might wish to ignore items like the chamber pot.’
‘Surely not.’ She stared at him, unease wriggling through her like a worm, and thinking that it must be his twisted sense of humour. She pandered to it with a smile.
‘There was an addendum added the last time Mr Howard visited here. Do you want to
see what’s in the box?’
She nodded. ‘I suppose I must.’
‘The thought doesn’t seem to excite you, though I expect it will be to your benefit if you decide to take advantage of it.’
‘I’m struggling with the reality of it, Dominic. Sorry … Mr LéSayres.’
He sighed. ‘Just call me by my first name, it’s much easier.’
‘Dominic then. We’ve already found a fortune.’
He smiled, probably because she’d used his name, or perhaps because a fortune in her mind when set against one in his consisted of vastly differing sums. Odd that she always thought of him as Dominic. Her resistance toward him seemed to be waning – probably because he’d behaved like a gentleman since she’d set personal limits.
There was a piece of paper on top of the tray, sealed with a blob of red wax.
‘The addendum was witnessed by my partner, John Howard,’ he said. ‘That’s his seal. I’ll send Mr Archibald a note to come and verify that the sum enclosed is correct, if you’d like.’
Dismay filled her. ‘Surely you cannot think I’ve stolen the contents?’
‘Not at all, it’s so you can be certain I haven’t. Perhaps you’d like one of the staff to check the amount instead.’
Grace remembered the times she’d surprised Jessie or Brian lingering within earshot when she’d been in conversation with Lady Florence, or more recently, with Dominic … how often had they avoided her eyes, or stopped talking when she entered a room. ‘I don’t think I want the staff to know my business, since they gossip so. I trust you. I mean … I think I do, and I certainly trust myself. It would ruin both our reputations if the box was empty.’
‘It isn’t empty; the weight gives it away.’ A wry smile came her way. ‘Thank you anyway, I’ll look on it as a compliment but as you’ve ably demonstrated in the past, you have quite a sting in your tail at times.’