Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane

by The Unconventional Miss Dane (lit)

  Hurrying up the drive, Antonia formulated a light-hearted version of her adventures to tell Donna, carefully omitting all. references to that insolent, exciting kiss. Miss Donaldson might be small in stature and a gentlewoman to her backbone, but she would have no compunction in marching round to Brightshill! and tell~ ~his lordship precisely what she thought of his outrageously forward behaviour! . ~:

  The front door opened as she approached ands there was Donna, her anxious expression lifting,in relief. "There you are, my dear! I was just trying to decide whether I should go in search of you? She broke off as her eyes took in the full awfulness of Antonia's appearance;

  "What have you been doing? There is blood on your race--re you hurt?

  Have you fallen in the woods?? She ushered Antonia in as she spoke, hurrying her through the hall and into the kitchens at the rear of the house.

  "No, no," Antonia hastened to reassure her; "It is pheasant blood, not my own. I have had quite an adventure, Donna--and another encounter with Lord Arlington, our infuriating neighbour,"

  "Infuriating, dear? Oh, bother this fire, it will never get the water warm if I cannot induce it to draw better." She raked at the smouldering logs in the grate but to little effect.

  Antonia sank wearily on to a settle and stared round at the dereliction that was the kitchens. The walls she had always remembered as lime-washed twice a year were begrimed with smoke and hung with cobwebs. The chimney crane and jacks were rusted and the wide shelves and dressers were either empty or heaped with filthy piles of chipped crockery. Miss Donaldson had obviously found a broom, for the flags in front of the hearth and settle had been swept, only to reveal the ingrained grime of the floor beneath.

  "It cannot have become so squalid in a mere six months," Antonia said despairingly. "No wonder the lawyer advised against our returning here! Well, perhaps this is the worst room. If Father hired some slattern of a cook..." Her voice trailed away as she saw Donna's face.

  "Are they all as bad as this?" she asked despairingly.

  Donna came and sat next to her on the settle, taking her hand in hers as if to give the younger woman strength. "I have not looked into all of the rooms~rhaps the kitchen seems worse because you remember it as a place of bustling activity, bright and clean in your dear mama's day---but all seem filthy and there is hardly any furniture remaining."

  Antonia took a deep breath, ruthlessly quashing the strong desire to burst into tears and run pell-mell down the drive to take refuge in the inn. This was their home now, and they were going to have to make the best of it. "Well, it is getting dark and we must find some candles, heat some water and have something to eat before we go to bed. It is too late now to try and improve matters."

  Faint steam was at last rising off the kettle. Antonia poured a little into a bowl and washed her face and hands while Donna fastidiously brushed off the surface of the table, spread a cloth she had brought in the food hamper upon it and began to unpack their provisions.

  Their simple supper was soon spread out: some potted ham, cheese, apples, bread and butter and a fruit cake. Donna made tea, after scouring a cracked teapot she found on a shelf, and they drank it, grateful for its warmth. As they ate, Donna prompted Antonia to recount the tale of her afternoon's adventure. Even the heavily censored version she received was enough 'to make her shudder, and exclaim at intervals.

  Replete, Antonia sat back and pushed out her feet towards the faint heat from the range. ~Let us simply leave everything as it is until the morning. We cannot see to do anything, and we have had a long and wearisome day. " Even as she spoke, there was a rustling and a scuttling from behind the dresser. " Oh, no! Mice! "

  "If we are fortunate," Donna replied grimly, packing the food back into the. wicker hamper as she spoke. "I did ~not like to tell you, my dear, but when I first entered the kitchen I fear I saw a rat."

  "Urgh! Well, that is tomorrow's first task--to find a rat catcher and a large cat. Let us see if we can find a bedroom fit to sleep in."

  A dispiriting survey by candlelight revealed a series of filthy chambers, only three of which contained beds. They finally decided on the room that evidently had been occupied by the housekeeper, before she had finally been driven out by Sir Humphrey's outrageous behaviour and total unwillingness to pay wages.

  Made up with their own linen, the bed was at least clean, if not particularly comfortable. But even the pervading smell of damp was not enough to keep the ladies awake; both were asleep almost as soon as their heads touched the pillows.

  By seven o'clock the next morning, they were already breakfasted and holding a council of war in the kitchen. Antonia was attempting to make a list on a piece of paper retrieved from Sir Humphrey's study, along with a blunt quill pen and a pot of thick brown ink. "I will put down some ink on the list first of all!"

  Miss Donaldson watched her young companion's bent head with a worried frown in her eyes. The candlelight struck burnished lights from her hair and her pleasant voice was light and amused~ Really, Miss Donaldson mused, any other young lady of her acquaintance would be having a fit of the yap ours by now.

  In the years Donna had known Antonia, she had come to respect her spirit, the courage that allowed her to rise above all the misfortunes that had come her way. She would cope with this disaster of a house, that was certain: but she did not deserve the burden.

  "Donna... Donna?" Antonia tapped her hand with the quill: "You have not been listening to a word I have said! We need to make a list of provisions and one of us must walk into Rybury and see what we may purchase there. No doubt young Jem from the inn would be willing to fetch the rest from Berkhamsted for a small consideration. He seems a reliable lad, do you not agree?"

  A furtive scratching in the wainscot reminded them of another pressing need. "And send up the rat catcher said Donna with a shudder. " There must be a woman in the village who will come up to scrub. "

  "Let us hire two if we can," Antonia interrupted. "It will take more than one woman and our own efforts to set this place to rights!"

  The light from a fresh, sunny morning was struggling through the beg timed windows. " Donna blew out the candles and crossed the kitchen floor to throw open the back door, letting in a flood of spring sunshine and the smell of damp earth. It also admitted young Jem, cap in hand and pink with the importance of his message.

  "Good morning, and begging your pardon, ladies, but my ma says, do you need some things fetching; or any help, like?"

  "Jem, you are a godsend," Antonia beamed at him, deepening his confusion. "Come in and sit down while we finish this list of provisions. And tell me, Jem, are there any women in-the village who would Come and clean for us?"

  "Oh yes, ma'am." Then a look of doubt came over his face. "Well, that is er..."

  "For a regular weekly wage, of course," Miss Donaldson supplied firmly.

  She knew enough of Sir Humphrey to realise why Jem was doubtful. "And a rat-catcher."

  "That'll be Walter Armitage, so long as he's over his rheum," Jem said helpfully. "And what about a cat, ma'am?"

  "That would be perfect, Jem, if you can find one. Now, here is the list. Do you remember everything we needT

  "Provisions, rat catcher cat, charwomen," Jem recited confidently. "And would you be needing a boy, ma'am for odd jobs, like?" He stood twisting his cap in his hands and looking hopeful.

  "We will," said Antonia, regarding his cheerful open face, which 'was as clean as one could reasonably expect of a fourteen-year-old. "But will your father not be requiring you to help around the inn?"

  'l can do all my chores by ten, ma'am, and then be up here directly.

  "

  "Very well, Jem." Antonia settled on a daily wage which, although very modest, made the boy's eyes gleam, then he shot off through the back door, clutching the list tightly.

  "That was fortuitous," Donna announced. "And the first thing I am going to do when that boy gets back is to send him up the kitchen chimney to get rid of the birds' nests." She unfurle
d a vast white apron, wrapped a cloth around her neat coiffure and, hands on hips, regarded the kitchen.

  "If you begin here" Antonia suggested, "I will attack the bedroom, then at least we can eat and sleep in comparative comfort."

  Pausing only to drop yesterday's wrecked dress into a tub of cold water in the hope that, once clean, some of the cloth could be saved, Antonia too swathed herself in an apron and marched upstairs.

  She scrubbed at the misted glass hanging on the bedroom wall until she could see her own reflection in it and twisted up her hair under a turban Ftke Donna's. Really, her coiffure was a disgrace, she thought, The unruly curls needed the attention of a hairdresser regularly ifSbe were not to look a complete romp, but just now she had neither time nor resources for such fripperies.

  She was wearing a sprig muslin dress that, although faded, at least had no rips or tears. Antonia rolled up the sleeves, flung open the casement and set to with a duster on a stick to knock down the cobwebs that swathed the walls. As one large spider after another was dislodged from its eyrie and scuttled for the open door, Antonia reflected how glad she was that the light the night before had been so poor. She chased a particularly hairy specimen out with a broom and began to take down the curtains.

  By midmorning the room was swept, dusted and aired. The hangings were in a heap on the floor for the washerwoman; only the bed remained to be attacked. Pulling off the sheets~ they had put on the previous night, Antonia was relieved to find the mattress not as fusty as she had feared. Even so, it, and the pillows, needed a thorough shake and air.

  She dragged it to the window and hung it out to refresh the flattened goose feathers It was too heavy to shake, so Antonia hung over the sill and pummelled it vigorously with her hands.

  There was an indignant shout from the side path beneath as a shower of dust and stray feathers rained down. Startled, red-faced and still folded in two across the sill, Antonia raised her head to find Marcus Arlington beating the dust from his jacket with his gloves.

  "Lord Arlington! I am so sorry..." Antonia looked down into his upturned face, noticing he seemed amused rather than annoyed. She bit her lip, regretting the instinctive apology to a man who had treated her in such a cavalier fashion only the day before. It was bad enough to be manhandled by his keepers, but to have him force his attentions upon her and then arrive at her house unannounced was the outside of enough! "Were we expecting you, my lord?" she enquired coldly.

  "Perhaps you are missing a pheasant or two?"

  "I would not know, Miss Dane: I leave counting my birds to my keepers.

  And after your very convincing explanation of the circumstances yesterday, I would not dream of looking for them here in any case." He seemed very cheerful this morning, and quite unperturbed both by her coldness and the unconventional circumstances. Antonia was visited by the sudden insight that, beneath his conventional exterior, Marcus Arlington was a man who enjoyed the unexpected.

  A strangely comfortable silence ensued. Then she realised his gaze was resting appreciatively on the quite indecorous amount of cleavage she was displaying in. her upside-down position.

  Hastily she scrambled back over the sill, pulled the gown up at the neck then, with as much dignity as she could muster, looked out again.

  "If you follow the path round to the back of the house you will find my companion, Miss Donaldson, in the kitchen, my lord."

  ~Marcus Arlington bowed rather ironically ~before sauntering off round the corner. Antonia- watched him, the blond hair on which he had not replaced his hat ruffled by the breeze, the breadth of his shoulders even more impressive seen from above. Recalling herself sharply, Antonia put up her hands to remove her turban, then stilled the action.

  No! Why should she titivate herself for him when he had coolly arrived without a word of warning' or a by-your-leave?

  She shook out her skirts and apron and sailed down the stairs, only to discover as she reached the hall that her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. Well, he had caught her at a disadvantage, hanging out of the window in an unseemly manner, entirely inappropriate to her status as a gentlewoman. Anyone would be flustered in such circumstances. Why, she would have felt just the same if it had been the vicar's wife. Thus reassured, Antonia entered the kitchen with a calm smile and the firm intention of treating Marcus A! ington as if yesterday--that kisswhad never occurred.

  She found Miss Donaldson uncharacteristically discommoded by being discovered, duster in hand, standing on a chair. "Do allow me to hand you down, ma'am," Marcus was saying in a tone that suggested he was used to assisting middle-aged gentlewomen down off kitchen chairs every day of his life.

  "Thank you, Lord Arlington, I am most grateful." Donna's cheeks were pink as she hastily tossed the duster behind the settle; "Will you not take a cup of tea... oh, dear, I do wish I could suggest you took it in the drawing-room, but really, it is not..."

  'fit for habitation," supplied Antonia, entering behind them. " GOod morning, Lord Arlington. How kind of you to call, ! do trust you have had a pleasant ride over from Brightshi! I regret to say there is at least one dead pigeon---ours, I hasten to add~in the drawing-room, so I feel you would be more comfortable here on the settle. "

  "Good morning, Miss Dane," he returned easily. "I felt I should look in on you and assure myself you had recovered from yesterday's excitements." His eyes met hers with a mischievous gleam in their dark brown depths. "You will, I know, forgive me for the informality of not leaving my card first."

  "Allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Donaldson. Please sit down, my lord," Antonia said repressively as she went to help Donna with the tea things.

  His lordship, unwilling to sit whilst the ladies stood, glanced round the kitchen. "Have your servants not yet arrived, Miss Dane? Allow me." He took the cups from Donna and set them on the now clean table.

  "We have..." The word 'none' was on the tip of her tongue, but then she broke off, remembering his great house and the quantity of servants therein. To admit that she and Donna were of such limited means that employing a maid and one or two charwomen was the only prudent course open to them was suddenly insupportable.

  "The London house' is still being closed down," she said airily, implying that a multitude of menservants and maids were busy with dust covers and the packing of trunks. "And with this house being in such a state, I thought it best to leave it a while before deciding how many to engage." Beyond him, she caught a glimpse of the look of pained shock on Miss Donaldson,s face at this barefaced deceit.

  "Meanwhile, young Jem from the inn has gone to hire us some charwomen in the village. London servants would take one look at Rye End Hall at present and turn tail immediately." Antonia managed a light social laugh. "You know what servants are---or perhaps not? Perhaps Lady Arlington deals with all such matters?"

  Marcus's lips quirked in acknowledgement of such a blatant piece of fishing and Miss l~)onaldson cast up her eyes to the cobwebbed beams.

  "I very much regret to inform you, Miss Dane, that I find myself without a wife at present." He crossed his booted legs, quite at ease on the hard settle, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his tone totally lacking in the regret he professed to feel.

  Antonia had the grace to colour at her own boldness.

  "That is a pity, Lord Arlington, for I had hoped to find a congenial neigh bout More tea?"

  '1 hope you will find me a congenial neigh bout Miss Dane--I am generally reckoned so to be. "

  "But women are different," Antonia remarked without thinking.

  "How very true, ma'am. I have often observed that to be the case. As to more tea, I must decline. I am on my way to see Mr. Todd; I believe you are acquainted with our curate?"

  "Yes, indeed, we were travelling together yesterday." Antonia was blushing in earnest now. "Good morning, my lord."

  As soon as the door had closed behind his ~p, Miss Donaldson protested.

  "Antonia! I ~had never dreamed you capableof~tch gaucheness! And such dissembling abo
ut our supposed servants ... I do not wonder you blush so! What will his lordship think when he discovers the true state of our affairs?"

  "I suspect he already knows," Antonia replied ruefully. "There is not much escapes Lord Allington~s sharp eye. I know I behaved badly, Donna, but he aggravates me so! And he wants Rye End Hall to add to the land he bought from my father: he will be asking to buy more land soon and, if he realises just how badly things stand with us, the offer will be very Small."

  "You just say no," Miss Donaldson replied robustly~ "But I suspect I may have to sell some land to raise the money to repair the fabric of the house--and we have not even seen it properly in daylight. If he realises how desperate I am I will have lost all my bargaining advantage."

  "How dreadful to think of a young lady having to understand such matters," her companion murmured, her eyes glittering behind her pince-nez. "But I do take your meaning. However, it is not the only reason you have behaved sore shall we say---out of character, is it, my dear?"