“Come sit by the fire, my lady, and let’s dry that hair off,” Jean encouraged, and Marianne followed, only too pleased to sink into the comfortably upholstered chair and curl her feet up beneath her, tilting her head towards the flames.
She must have drowsed off while Jean went back to pressing her gown and dealing with her other clothes, all of which needed laundering, because the next thing she knew, Jean was gently waking her and her hair was quite dry.
“You do seem very tired, my lady. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a tray here and to go straight to bed? I’m sure the Earl and the Countess wouldn’t mind...”
“No, no,” Marianne waved off Jean’s concern. “I thank you, but I feel much refreshed after that little rest, and I am looking forward to seeing Lord Havers again.” Her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud rumble, and she chuckled. “I admit to feeling rather famished, too!”
“As you wish, my lady,” Jean said with a small laugh. “How would you like me to do your hair?”
Not wanting to put Jean to too much trouble, Marianne settled for a simple coil of braids at the nape of her neck, a few curls hanging loose at the side of her face. Not for the first time, she was grateful for her naturally wavy hair; it took a curl very easily and needed little work to be arranged into any fashionable style she pleased.
Very soon, she was following the same young footman who had taken her bag on her arrival along the twisting hallways of the grand old manor house, admiring the paintings on the walls, the beautifully polished wooden floors and thick carpets, the immaculate cleanliness of everything. “It must take an army of servants to keep the Hall in this condition,” Marianne mused aloud.
“Lord and Lady Havers turn away no one who needs employment,” the footman answered her, a little to her surprise. “They have begun a programme of training young men and women who wish to enter service, and servants trained at Havers Hall are now in high demand throughout the county. A school in the village has been opened, too, and all the local boys and girls are learning to read and write.”
The footman sounded quite incredulous, and Marianne supposed it was quite unheard-of to teach common-born children their letters. Especially the girls. It sounded very much like the thoughtful Ellen she knew and her egalitarian American husband, though. “How wonderful,” she said encouragingly as they descended the grand staircase. “And are you one of these trainees?”
“Yes, my lady. Is it so obvious?” He looked quite dismayed, and she tried not to laugh.
“Not at all, I should never have guessed. I was merely curious,” she said kindly, though in truth most footmen would not have spoken to her unless she asked them a direct question. Undoubtedly, the young man would learn that rule as he completed his training, though she found his relaxed, informative attitude quite refreshing.
Allsopp, the butler, was in the hall at the foot of the stairs, and he bowed low to her as she descended the last step. “Good evening, Lady Creighton. Lord and Lady Havers await you in the parlour.” He gestured for her to follow him.
Thomas and Ellen stood by the fire, deep in conversation, but they at once broke off with welcoming smiles as Allsopp conducted Marianne into the parlour and formally announced her.
“Lady Creighton, it is delightful to see you again.” Thomas bowed formally over her hand. “Ellen is overjoyed you were able to come so soon.”
Marianne smiled at him. “I am overjoyed to be here... and please, call me Marianne. Since I am imposing on your hospitality without notice, it seems rather ridiculous to insist on the formalities.”
Thomas chuckled and nodded. “I’m sure you know formal address doesn’t come easily to me anyway,” he said frankly, “so I’m very happy to hear you say that, Marianne. You must call me Thomas, of course.”
“Of course,” she echoed, and let Ellen take her hand and draw her closer to the fire while Thomas poured her a glass of sherry to savour before dinner.
With the warmth of their welcome and an excellent dinner set before her, Marianne felt comfortable and safe enough to slowly reveal what had led her to depart Creighton with such haste and secrecy. Ellen was vocally outraged on her behalf, proclaiming herself disgusted with Arthur and Lavinia for attempting to ban Marianne from London.
“Your nieces sound like dear girls, though!” Ellen declared as Marianne explained how Diana and Clarissa had made her escape possible. “I look forward to meeting them in London, and of course you must accompany us there, and remain with us for the Season. You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you wish, dearest, for life if need be. And please believe me when I say that I certainly do not expect you to act as an unpaid governess or companion! In fact, if you would be interested,” she cast a glance at Thomas, who nodded benignly, “there are a number of young women in Haverford who would definitely benefit from exposure to a lady of your quality and talents. I have no doubt we could find some paying work for you, if you wished it.”
“I would very much appreciate that,” Marianne said stoutly, though she had never worked a day in her life.
Thomas gave her a perceptive look, but said nothing as Ellen went on.
“In fact, if you would be willing, I would greatly appreciate your advice myself. I have never hosted a house party, and there are a thousand and one ways I could make a spectacular social misstep. Your assistance would be invaluable... Thomas, dear, could you find out the going rate for a paid companion? I want to make sure I am not taking advantage of Marianne...”
“Certainly not,” Marianne said at the same time as Thomas said;
“Of course, my love.”
“I could not accept payment for helping you, Ellen,” Marianne continued. “Please consider it my thanks for your most generous hospitality. Anything I can do to assist you, please, you need only ask.”
“I most certainly will.” Ellen’s smile was a little cheeky. “You may regret such a generous offer!”
“Never.” Grateful beyond measure for Ellen’s kindness and understanding, Marianne reached out to clasp her hand. “Thank you,” she said softly, glancing from Ellen to Thomas and back again. “Thank you both so much.”
“You’re very welcome,” Thomas spoke for both of them, and Ellen squeezed Marianne’s hand in return. “What are friends for, after all?”
Chapter Six
I am lucky beyond belief to have such friends, Marianne mused as she let Jean dress her hair the following morning. Though she had only a plain gown to wear, it had been freshly washed, pressed, and returned to her that morning looking like new. She thanked Jean profusely, but the maid merely looked surprised before advising her Havers Hall had a positive surfeit of laundry maids who were more than happy to assist her.
“Will the rest of your wardrobe be arriving soon, my lady?” Jean enquired delicately as she inserted the last hairpin to support the arrangement of braids she had deftly woven from Marianne’s thick auburn hair.
“I’m afraid not,” Marianne admitted.
Jean pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You’re taller than Lady Havers, but more of a size with Lady Louisa, the last Earl’s daughter,” she said. “Caused a dreadful scandal last year, she did, running off with a footman from the London house. Left quite a wardrobe behind. Perhaps you might speak to Lady Havers about adjusting some of the things for your use?”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Marianne disclaimed, but she thought wistfully of the stunning gowns Lady Louisa Havers had been wont to wear. Thomas’ cousin, Louisa had hoped to become the next Countess of Havers by marriage to Thomas, but he had chosen Ellen instead and Louisa had disappeared in a scandal which had been the talk of London... at least until Marianne’s husband dropped dead the day after Thomas and Ellen’s wedding.
Jean looked thoughtful rather than accepting of Marianne’s refusal, and Marianne suspected the maid intended to approach the topic through a roundabout method, quite possibly via Ellen’s personal maid. Well, so be it. Marianne certainly could not ask herself, even though she would
like something more elegant to wear.
Another young footman waited outside her door to escort her to the breakfast room, a completely different room from the one where they had eaten dinner last night, which Marianne learned now was called the Oak Dining Room, on account of the oak-panelled walls. There was also the Grand Dining Room, for when more than twenty were expected to dine.
“And are more than twenty expected at the house party?” Marianne enquired of the chatty young man. She had not attended such a large gathering since leaving London last year in the wake of her husband’s death.
“Not to stay at the Hall, no, my lady, but there are several occasions planned where more will be invited. Local gentry, you understand.”
“Indeed,” Marianne agreed, finding herself looking forward to the house party with enthusiasm. She had always enjoyed social events, though her pleasure had usually been curtailed by her husband’s severe restrictions. To have the freedom to dance and talk with whomever she pleased, male or female, was a much-longed-for treat.
Ellen was alone in the breakfast room, eating muffins spread with blackberry jam, when Marianne entered.
“Good morning!” Ellen exclaimed, pushing aside the newspaper she had been perusing. “Do sit down.” She waved at the seat beside her. “Would you like tea, coffee, or chocolate? Hugh will bring you some fresh. And please let Jacob know what you would like for breakfast.”
Two different footmen stood ready to leap to her command, Marianne noted with amusement. Ellen must spend her days thinking up tasks to keep all her staff busy. No wonder everything in the Hall looked so perfect.
“Tea would be delightful, thank you,” she told Hugh then turned to the other footman, “and I have a weakness for coddled eggs with buttered toast, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble for your cook?”
“Not at all, my lady.” Jacob bowed, and Ellen and Marianne were left briefly alone as the two footmen left hastily to fetch her breakfast.
Ellen smiled warmly at her as Marianne settled into her chair, and then to Marianne’s utmost surprise she said,“What would you like to do today?”
Marianne stared at her, mouth dropping open. She stared so long Ellen began to fidget, obviously becoming a little uncomfortable.
“Is something wrong, Marianne?”
“I was trying to remember the last time I was asked that question,” Marianne said with some difficulty, feeling tears welling, “and do you know, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that.”
“Oh!” Ellen’s hand flew to her mouth. In her eyes, brimming with sympathy, Marianne saw her friend comprehended the depth of what her question meant. A choice, given freely to someone who had never had any.
The return of Hugh with Marianne’s tea put paid to the moment of emotion, though Marianne still had to take several sips and some deep breaths before she felt able to speak again. “What do you suggest?” she asked Ellen. “I should love a tour of the Hall, but if you have any other ideas, I am all agog to hear them.”
“A tour sounds just the thing,” Ellen said encouragingly, “particularly since it is set to rain all day today. After a year living here, I think I have my way around all figured out, at least. Or at last, I should say. I cannot tell you how many times I have got lost; Allsopp has had to send out more than one search party for me!”
Marianne laughed, as Ellen had obviously intended her to. “These huge old houses are the devil, aren’t they? Creighton Hall is much the same. While the front elevation looks both coherent and elegant, behind there is often a hodgepodge of alterations and additions which make the house into an absolute muddle.”
“Indeed,” Ellen nodded, “and despite having all the money in the world, the old Earl was an utter miser. He closed off half the Hall, didn’t employ enough servants to keep the rooms in good condition, and let them fall into disrepair. Thomas and I have been opening them up, redecorating, and commissioning new furniture, carpets, and curtains from local makers. With everything finally complete, we thought a house party a nice way to celebrate having the Hall fully open again.”
“Very nice,” Marianne agreed.
“But I do need your advice. Thomas hasn’t a clue, of course, and I... well, precedence is a bit of a mystery to me, still. It’s always been everyone else above, then me definitely at the bottom.” Ellen smiled wistfully. “I have no idea who should get the best guest suite: a dowager duchess or a marquis? Does the widowed sister of an impoverished earl come above the wealthy heir to a viscountcy?”
“The duchess, and yes, she would, because ladies always come before gentlemen,” Marianne said, laughing when Ellen looked dismayed.
“Thank God you did come early! I have it all wrong!”
“We’ll soon have it all sorted out,” Marianne promised as her breakfast was set before her with great ceremony. “As soon as I’ve done justice to this marvellous breakfast, you can go fetch whatever notes you have, and we’ll get to work.”
WITH MARIANNE’S EXPERIENCED assistance and an army of servants only too willing to jump to her slightest request, Ellen soon had a plan for accommodating her incoming guests she was much more confident about. They spent the entire morning touring the house, examining the bedrooms and the linen, before discovering themselves quite famished when Allsopp appeared to delicately suggest they might wish to take a break for a light nuncheon which Cook had prepared for them.
“Is it near noon already?” Ellen asked, startled.
“I think it must be, for my stomach has been rumbling this last half-hour at least,” Marianne admitted.
Tucking her arm through Marianne’s, Ellen smiled. “I am an abominable hostess, as you see. Here less than a day, and already I am overworking and starving you!”
“Nonsense.” Marianne laughed at Ellen’s teasing. “I am delighted to be of use, I promise, and I find myself looking forward to meeting your guests.”
“Well, we will be an eclectic gathering.” Ellen led her back through the confusing maze of corridors to the central part of the house, and to the pretty parlour where they had taken breakfast. “I hope to make it something of a tradition, to gather at Havers Hall for a Christmas house party.”
“A charming idea, and you may count on my future attendance. If I am invited, that is,” Marianne added.
“Of course you are, and in future I will be instructing Thomas to send the coach for you, too, so that any further issues with transportation will be avoided!” Ellen was quite indignant on Marianne’s behalf, outraged that Arthur and Lavinia had denied her request to travel and effectively tried to turn her into an unpaid companion to their children.
“Thank you, my dear,” Marianne said, squeezing Ellen’s arm gratefully before letting go and taking her seat at the table.
Thomas came in to join them, and Ellen jumped to her feet to greet him, her face aglow. They shared a discreet kiss before taking their seats.
“How have you spent the morning, ladies?” Thomas asked as the footmen served them soup and bread, pouring cups of a cloudy apple cider which, served warm, was absolutely delicious. Marianne was unaccustomed to eating a proper meal at this time of day, but it was a pleasant idea, she found, and she was hungry from their exertions that morning.
Marianne sipped at her cup while Ellen expounded on their activities and Thomas listened with every appearance of interest, adding a few remarks now and then. He had apparently spent the morning with one of the tenant farmers, discussing that year’s crop yields and what seeds would be planted at the next harvest.
Marianne could not remember her husband ever concerning himself with anything so mundane, so workmanlike. He had left all such decisions to his land steward, content merely to count the profits and apportion some of them to his investment advisers. Another portion had been assigned to Marianne, with new gowns produced for her by London’s finest modistes every week. She had been nothing more to him than an ornament, something beautiful and expensive which nobody else could have. He had never encouraged her to take
any part in the running of the household, though she was a viscount’s daughter and had been well-trained in the management of a great house.
Helping Ellen today was the most fulfilling thing Marianne had been permitted to do in years, and she found herself hoping Ellen would keep wanting her input and advice throughout the house party.
This must be what it’s like to have a brother and sister, Marianne thought as the meal went on and Thomas and Ellen included her happily in their chatter. Her brother had died fighting Napoleon when she was only thirteen, and he had been five years older, so she remembered him but little. Perhaps if he had lived, they could have been friends, at least.
She felt so very comfortable with Thomas and Ellen, confident she could tell them anything or ask for their help and have it freely given, without expectation of repayment. When Thomas offhandedly advised her he had sent two servants and a coach to collect her wardrobe from Cumbria and they should return before the house party began in earnest; Marianne was hard put to keep the tears from flowing.
It turned out you didn’t need to ask, sometimes.
Chapter Seven
A week later, Marianne felt as though she had been living at Havers Hall for half her life. On first name terms with every member of the very extensive staff, she now knew her way around the beautiful old house as well as Thomas and Ellen did. If she didn’t quite recall the name of every Havers ancestor in the portrait gallery, well, they weren’t her ancestors.
Marianne sat with Ellen in the large, beautifully-appointed front parlour where guests were usually received. The first guests for the house party were expected today, but at the moment since Thomas was out and about the estate it was just the two of them waiting, both settled in comfortable chairs by the fire with books in hand.
Reading was another joy Marianne had rediscovered. Creighton had all but forbidden it to her, not permitting her to purchase any books or join a lending library and refusing her access to his own library. Ellen, however, was a dedicated bookworm, as was Thomas, and they both liked to spend at least an hour or two a day comfortably ensconced with a book. Ellen had encouraged her to select anything she fancied from their eclectic collection, and Marianne had soon found herself enjoying that quiet hour spent between the pages, discovering the wondrous worlds which lived within the imagination.
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