‘Mary, I think that is quite enough from you. Run along and make yourself useful in the kitchen. Jack needs to rest.’
Tilly smoothed the covers and stepped back with a happy smile. ‘He'll do, Mrs Reed. Look, his colour's much better and his skin's warmer too. I don't reckon Doctor Andrews will say any different.’
Emma looked at her son; she believed she was feeling more unwell than him at the moment. ‘Jack, Tilly is going to help you with your lovely sweet tea. Mama is going to see how Mr Bucknall is after his courageous actions.’
Her apron was quite sodden, she discarded it, checked her cap was straight in the overmantel mirror and ran up the stairs to the main part of the building. It was hard to imagine what it would have been like working at Stansted Manor when the east wing had still been there. It was overlarge as it was.
William met her in the hall. ‘Mrs Reed, Doctor Andrews is with the master. Unfortunately Mr Bucknall has reopened his wound and it needed stitching again. I took the liberty of sending the doctor upstairs first, word from downstairs was more encouraging.’
‘You did exactly right, William. Jack is a very lucky boy and is almost fully recovered from his unpleasant experience. I should like to thank Mr Bucknall personally, would you be so kind as to let me know when it would be convenient for me to come?’
‘If I were you, ma'am, I should leave it for a bit. The master's a bit tetchy at the moment if you know what I mean, demanding his brandy be brought up to him.’
‘Oh dear! I do hope this accident does not set him back. I shall suggest to Doctor Andrews that he might forbid strong alcohol for the moment. Kindly send the doctor down when he has finished upstairs.’
The doctor declared her beloved boy to be quite well. He could get up as usual the following day. She was glad she could inform the rest of the staff that the drama was over and they could return to their duties. Her meeting with Mrs Turner was completed satisfactorily and she spent the remainder of the afternoon with one ear listening out for her son while she filled in her housekeeper's journal.
Jack sat up in bed and demanded his supper when he woke a second time; news from upstairs was also more encouraging. Emma left Tilly and Mary to sit with her son and sent word to William that she was on her way. Mr Foster had told her the invalid was refusing to remain in his bed, but had agreed to recline on a chaise longue in the sitting room that adjoined his bedchamber.
Emma paused outside the door to steady her breathing. How did one thank one's employer for saving the life of a beloved child at the expense of his own health? Words were not adequate for what she felt, any animosity she had harboured towards him had vanished. Only Mary still had reservations, for some reason she did not take to Mr Bucknall even though he had been polite and charming in his exchanges with her.
Raising her hand she knocked quietly. William opened the door pulling a comical expression. He was obviously warning her that she was likely to get her head bitten off.
‘Come in if you must, Mrs Reed, do not stand dithering in the doorway like that. William, be about your business. I've had more than enough of your fussing for one day.’
‘I'm glad to see that you are fully recovered, sir, after your watery experience. I should hate to have seen you languishing.’
His sudden bark of laughter startled her. ‘Touché, my dear. You are a tonic, you never fail to rouse me from my ill-humour.’
It was her turn to laugh. ‘Then I am thankful I have not seen you other than in the sunniest of moods, Mr Bucknall. I shudder to think how unpleasant the experience would be otherwise.’
‘I suppose you must leave the door ajar, but come in and pull up a chair. Tell me how Jack does.’
She chose a footstool, the only chair was a large upholstered one which would be far too heavy for her to shift and she had no wish for him to be obliged to help. Unfortunately this would mean her head was on the level with his knees. Before she could sit he grasped her forearms and neatly lifted her on to the end of his day bed.
‘Sit there, I will not have you at floor level. Do not look so cross, my dear, I am merely doing you a service. I'm certain you had no wish to crouch on a stool like a child.’
Smiling ruefully she shifted to the very end of the bed making sure that not one iota of her person was in contact with him. ‘Mr Bucknall, I am delighted to tell you that Jack is none the worse for his ducking. I can't tell you how distressed I am that you came to harm on his behalf. I am forever in your debt, you are a brave and wonderful man.’
For some reason this speech did not appear to please him. He frowned and shook his head. ‘He would not have fallen in, in the first place…’
‘I will hear no more of that, sir, you must remain a hero in my eyes.’ Some perverse notion made her reach out and clasps his hands. ‘Thank you, my dear sir…’ she got no further as he closed his fingers over hers and inexorably drew her closer.
The roughness of one hand was contrasted strangely by the smoothness of the leather glove on the other. When she was no more than an arm's reach from him he slowly raised her hands to his mouth, up turned them and kissed each palm. The touch of his mouth on her hot skin sent waves of heat racing around her body. She should protest, demand that he release her, but she was held captive by his eyes.
They darkened as she watched from grey to black. Too late she recognized the danger, was about to regain her feet, when he dropped her hands and seized her around the waist, lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather. With infinite tenderness he settled her in his lap and with his gloved hand cupped her chin.
Chapter Eight
Emma was mesmerised. His hand was cool against her overheated cheek, his mouth hot on hers. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, it made what she had shared with her husband pale into insignificance. Slowly he slanted his lips across hers, pressing lightly. Then he nibbled butterfly kisses from the corner of her mouth to her ear and back again.
When his mouth reclaimed hers it was more demanding and more exciting. Heat spiralled from her toes to her crown, she was lost; adrift in an unknown place from which she did not wish to return. Then she was abruptly pushed away; losing her balance, she fell on to her knees.
Mortified by his behaviour she scrambled to her feet and spun to face him her eyes blazing. ‘You cannot be civil for more than a short while before you revert to type.’ Deliberately she wiped her mouth with her sleeve as if something repellent had touched it. ‘That was a singularly unedifying experience, Mr Bucknall. I need not tell you that if you attempt to repeat it I shall hand in my notice immediately.’
He had turned his head away, was only then she saw fresh blood seeping through his new bandage. Had kissing her opened his wound again? Association with her family was proving to be disastrous to his well-being. ‘I shall send for William to attend to your head, sir. I shall say nothing more of your reprehensible behaviour on this occasion because you saved my son's life. Consider the debt completely repaid.’
Still he did not answer. Had she disgusted him by her willing response? Did he now think her a woman of low morals and therefore contemptible? She turned on her heel and stalked to the door.
‘I most humbly beg your pardon, Mrs Reed. I took shameful advantage of you. I give you my word as a gentleman I will not importune you a second time in that way.’ His voice was soft, she had to strain to hear it. ‘I have no excuse apart from the fact that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I could not resist you.’
Her anger slowly seeped away. He was a man after all. Had not John told her to never be alone with any of his fellow officers for fear of what they might say or do in his absence? ‘Thank you for your apology, sir, I intend to put this episode from my mind. I beg you to do the same.’
His smile was sad; he was as discomforted as herself. This time she did not curtsy, it no longer seemed appropriate after what had passed between them. Instead she nodded and went downstairs to find his valet.
He was ostentatiously pacing u
p and down the hallway, he wished her to know he had not been eavesdropping on their private meeting. Her cheeks flushed anew; would the fact that she had been alone in her employer's bedroom be common knowledge very soon?
‘William, you must attend to the master. His bandage shows sign of further bleeding.’
‘Doctor Andrews said this might happen, ma'am, it is nothing to be alarmed about. I hope you left him in better humour.’
It was inappropriate to discuss Mr Bucknall in this way with other members of staff. She pursed her lips and frowned. William understood, his cheeks coloured, he bowed deeply and scuttled off down the corridor to the servants' stairs.
The following day dawned bright and fair, Jack had suffered no ill effects from his near drowning, it was Mary who seemed unable to leave her little brother's side. ‘Mama, it is my fault that Jack wandered off. If I had not been so engrossed in playing the piano I should have been watching him. I promise I will not let him out of my sight in future.’
Emma was relieved that Jack had not heard this pronouncement as he would have objected most volubly. ‘That's kind of you, my love, but he must stay with me today at least. Then we shall see how things shall be arranged. You have a very important job, you must go round with a basket and collect the dead rats and mice that your Sooty will have accumulated around the place. I shall give you a farthing for each.’
The thought of pennies to spend was enough to send her skipping off to complete her gruesome task. Tilly, who had just arrived with the breakfast tray for both her and Jack, was more than happy to act as nursemaid whilst Emma went upstairs to speak to Mr Bucknall. She had made elaborate notes in her journal, had an excellent idea of what expenses would be needed in order to fully restore the mansion.
The house had a much more welcoming feel, with a full complement of indoor and outdoor staff it would be as grand as the house in which she had been under-housekeeper. One of the things she wished to discuss with Mr Bucknall was the appointment of a deputy for herself and Mr Foster. He was a delightful old gentleman, but decidedly absentminded and a smart young man to assist him would make the establishment run more smoothly.
The study door was open, there was no need for her to knock as she could hear him rustling papers at his desk, all she had to do was announce herself. ‘Mr Bucknall, can you spare me a few moments of your time?’
A complete stranger jumped to his feet and came round to greet her, his hand extended. ‘Good morning, Mrs Reed. I am Mr Bucknall's man of affairs, Simon Tavistock. I'm afraid he has been obliged to go to Town unexpectedly and has asked me to deal with anything pertaining to the household.’
Emma shook his hand, it was a firm, dry grip, and she liked him immediately. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Mr Tavistock. I have brought with me my journal, it is up to date with all the names of the female staff entered. No doubt Mr Foster has a similar document in hand.’
He grinned. ‘I have done it for him, madam, I believe he finds close work difficult with his failing eyesight.’ Politely he pulled out a chair and waited until she had seated herself before returning to his place behind the desk. ‘I am glad that you came to see me this morning, I have a list here of things that Mr Bucknall wishes me to tell you.’
‘Then please go ahead, I am eager to hear what he wishes me to know.’
‘The first and most pressing item on the agenda is this. You are to move up to the nursery floor with your children, you will have more space there and it is more suitable for the little ones than running about below stairs.’
She nodded, smiling at him to continue. It was an eminently sensible suggestion and would mean that she could resume some sort of school work during the afternoons.
‘Mr Bucknall wishes there to be a full complement of staff both indoors and outdoors. I have already sent word to the village and to his tenants and cottagers asking if anyone wishes to join the staff. If a sufficient number do not apply, then I am to place an advert in the paper.’
‘That is exactly what I came to see Mr Bucknall about. I also think it's vital we have an assistant for Mr Foster and myself.’
‘I can see that you and the master are of the same mind. Mr Foster will be able to remain in his own accommodation, and the new man can sleep upstairs with the others. I have inspected the rooms and they are more than adequate, have fireplaces and decent furniture.’
Emma offered her journal to him for inspection. He shook his head quickly. ‘There is absolutely no necessity me to see that, Mrs Reed, Mr Bucknall trusts your judgement absolutely. If you would be kind enough to enter the names of the staff in the wages book, that is all that is required. The master was most insistent that you have the afternoons free; supervising such a big household is a responsible job and he wishes you to be at your best at all times. He has also suggested that you select a maid for your personal use, she can move her belongings to one of the small box rooms on the nursery floor and be available whenever she is needed by you, or your children.’
There was no more to be said. Her only regret was that Mr Bucknall was not there to tell her this good news himself. Until she saw him again she would not know if his sudden disappearance to London was genuine, or a ruse to avoid having to see her. But he was a gentleman, he had kissed her – did this mean he would feel obliged to offer for her? She must put such foolishness away, she was a housekeeper now not a lady.
‘Thank you, Mr Tavistock, I must return to my duties. I should like all the indoor staff to be correctly dressed, I shall put as many girls as can sew to work on making gowns. I noticed that the three indoor men are all dressed in similar fashion. Does that mean there is already a suitable supply of garments for them?’
‘It does, ma'am. I must also warn you that the east wing is to be demolished. Workmen will be arriving later today; it's to be turned into a pleasure garden. It’s imperative that your little ones stay away from there until the work is done.’
Five days passed before news of her employer's return from his business was given to her by Mr Tavistock. Emma could not wait to show Mr Bucknall how things had progressed in his absence. She was now the proud possessor of not one, but two new gowns in the lovely blue material. Tilly was working as nursemaid and personal maid to her, a very satisfactory arrangement for all concerned. There were now a dozen new females and six footmen added to the complement, all were smartly attired.
The hideous remains of the burnt out wing had vanished as if the blackened timbers had never
existed. A team of gardeners was busy clearing the remaining rubble and preparing the soil for planting. The young woman she had chosen as her deputy, Flora Duncan, had arrived from the village. She was the niece of the shopkeeper, recently widowed and eager to find suitable employment in the area. So far the arrangement was working out satisfactorily.
She and the children were in the schoolroom when Jack, who should have been attending to his slate, tumbled from his chair and ran to the window. The window overlooked the park and the long straight drive. ‘Mama, it's Mr Bucknall coming back at last. His carriage has just turned in through the gate, he will be here soon.’
Emma's heart skipped a beat. She had taken particular pains with her appearance that morning, knew she was looking her best. At three and thirty she was well past her best years, but had been told she was still a good-looking woman in spite of her advanced age. ‘Jack, do not gawp out of the window like an urchin. Come and sit down immediately. You may go and play in the grounds when you have completed your letters and not before.’
He trailed back to his chair disconsolately, looking wistfully outside. She ignored him, since his brush with near tragedy she had taken heed of what Mr Bucknall had said about the lack of discipline. She would do anything to keep her children safe from harm, even it meant being far firmer than she was accustomed to.
Within half an hour both children had finished the tasks she had set them. Jack ran to fetch Tilly who was busy with mending in the nursery. Mary watched him go with a frown. ‘I hope he doe
sn't go down and pester Mr Bucknall, Mama. I fear he's beginning to consider him a father figure.’
Emma's elbow slipped from the table. Where had this notion come from? It was certainly not Mary's, she was but a child, someone below stairs was talking out of place. In her effort to keep Jack out of mischief she had not been taken enough notice of her daughter's needs. The girl had been spending far too much time listening to the gossip of the lower servants.
‘What fustian, my love. It is merely hero worship because Mr Bucknall saved him from a watery grave. Come now, it is time for your practice on the pianoforte and I have several urgent matters to attend to as well.’
Tilly had taken to using the main staircase when she took the children downstairs and now it had become the usual route. Emma knew it was not really appropriate for someone, even as important as the housekeeper, to be using these stairs but as the days passed she was finding it more difficult to consider herself as merely a servant.
Pride came before a fall her father had often told her. She feared this would be the case this time and that someone or something would knock her firmly from her lofty pedestal. A flash of black attracted her attention. The cat should not be in this side of the house, especially as Mr Bucknall did not care for felines. ‘Mary, Sooty is loose up here. Please catch him and take him back below stairs before he is noticed.’
Her daughter skipped down the stairs and vanished down one of the many corridors calling for her pet. The double doors to the grand drawing room stood open, this was most unusual as the room was not in use. She'd better close them before the cat got in there and disgraced itself.
‘Ah, Mrs Reed, do come in, I have just asked for the covers to be removed. I think it is high time this lovely chamber was back in use.’ He smiled, his eyes dancing with what could only be described as excitement. He held out his hand and fall some reason she walked across and took it. ‘I have missed you, my dear, I should not have rushed away without speaking to you first if an express had not arrived to call me to London. I will not bore you with the tedious details, but suffice it to say that it was a financial matter that could not be dealt with by anyone but myself.’
A Mistress for Stansted Hall Page 7