Nanny Groves’s little parlour was deliciously warm and the armchair she sat in was soft and comfortable.
“My dear Lucilla, your eyes are closing!” Nanny pointed out. “Why don’t you now take yourself up to the spare bedroom and you can rest properly.”
Lucilla shook herself, blinking in the flickering firelight. “I don’t want to be rude, Nanny!”
“Nonsense. You are absolutely worn out. I shall not take offence at all, Lucilla, if you go upstairs and take a nap! It’s so good to have you here with me, my dear!”
Lucilla made her way up the steep wooden stairs to the tiny bedroom under the eaves. She had never been in such a small room before, but everything she needed was there.
A little bed with its white quilted cover and a deep feather mattress, a small wardrobe for her clothes and a washstand with a flowered jug and bowl and a pretty heart-shaped mirror.
*
As soon as her head touched the soft pillow, Lucilla was fast asleep and she did not wake up until the bright rays of winter sunshine came streaming through the small window the next morning.
“Nanny, I’m really sorry!” she cried, as she hurried downstairs and into the parlour. “I’ve slept and slept!”
“Indeed you have,” the old lady said with a smile, as she sat knitting in her chair by the fire. “You’ve missed dinner and breakfast as well! In fact, it’s almost time for luncheon.”
Lucilla felt embarrassed. “Can I help you with luncheon, Nanny?” she asked. “I am not much of a cook, but I could help you to prepare the vegetables.”
Nanny Groves laughed. “No need for that, my dear. All my meals are sent down from Appleton Hall.
“Don’t look so surprised, my dear!” she continued, seeing the expression on Lucilla’s face. “Do you remember me telling you stories about a little boy called Dermot?”
“Yes, I think so. He lived in a big house and used to ride a white pony. And didn’t you look after him before you came to help my Mama and Papa take care of me?”
“That’s right! Well, then – little Dermot is now a Marquis and lives at Appleton Hall. And he makes sure that I have everything I need.”
Nanny Groves looked very happy as she said this.
Then she added, “But I am always ready for a cup of tea. Why don’t you go and make one for us? You might even find some freshly baked bread and strawberry jam in the kitchen!”
Lucilla was not at all surprised to find that Nanny’s tiny kitchen was absolutely spotless and that everything from the snowy white apron on the back of the door to the big brown teapot on the dresser was neatly arranged in its proper place.
She put on Nanny’s apron, tying the strings at her waist and she had just found the china jar that held the tea leaves, when there was a knock at the front door.
“I’ll get it!” she called, remembering how long it had taken Nanny to answer the door yesterday.
But, as Lucilla stepped into the hall, the front door was already opening and a huge bunch of pink roses was pushed through it, followed by a tall young man.
He stared at Lucilla over the mass of pink blooms.
“Who on earth are you?” he asked in surprise, a frown creasing his dark brows. It was him! The young man with dark hair who had haunted Lucilla’s thoughts ever since Ethel’s engagement party.
Her heart leapt inside her, hammering against her chest and she so wanted to cry out to him ‘it’s me, don’t you remember?’ But, as his brown eyes gazed into hers, she realised that he did not recognise her. He had no idea that they had once met and spoken to each other.
“I am just making some tea – ” she replied, when at last she could force her voice to speak. The young man looked puzzled, but after a moment he smiled at her. “Good idea. I would like one very much indeed, if you don’t mind. Just the right thing on a cold morning like this.”
He strode towards the parlour and, as he passed, the bouquet of roses brushed against the white apron Lucilla was wearing.
‘He takes me for a servant,’ she thought, looking down at the teapot she was holding.
Her heart was still beating so fast that she felt quite shaky. Whatever was he doing, here in Nanny Groves’s little cottage?
With a great effort, she pulled herself together and went back into the kitchen. She found a large tray and put plates, cups, saucers and a milk jug, sugar bowl and slop basin on it, struggling to control her trembling hands as she laid everything out.
Then in a panic she looked around for the kettle. It was nowhere to be seen. Of course not, for it would be simmering over the fire in the parlour, where it had been yesterday.
‘I can’t go in there,’ she whispered to herself. ‘I just can’t see him again, it’s too much. But I’ve got to – ’
She picked up the heavy tray and stood dithering for a moment, trying to pluck up her courage until she heard footsteps in the hall.
The kitchen door opened a crack. He had returned.
“Nanny says, whatever you do, please don’t forget the strawberry jam,” he pronounced, peering at her with a mischievous expression.
“Oh!” Lucilla jumped nervously – and the cups and saucers rattled on the tray.
“Shall I take that for you?” He came into the kitchen and picked up the tray.
“I can tell that this isn’t your normal occupation. I thought for a short moment, when I saw you just then, that Nanny had found herself a parlour maid! But she has put me right.”
“Thank you so much,” Lucilla said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “I – will now try and find the jam – ”
“It’s in that blue and white pot on the dresser,” he volunteered and then, as he saw how she could not help staring at him, he smiled and gave a tiny wink. “And – the bread is in the big brown crock over there!” And then he was gone, expertly manhandling the heavy tray through the kitchen door. Lucilla took a deep breath. He seemed so different, suddenly. So cheerful and light-hearted and friendly. But he still seemed to have no idea that they had ever met before.
She found a big crusty loaf of brown bread in the crock he had indicated and cut thin slices from it, spreading them with butter and the luscious red strawberry jam from the blue and white pot.
Then she laid them all out on a big china plate and carried them through to the parlour.
“Thank you for doing all this, my dear!” Nanny Groves said. “I find making tea irksome and boring at my age, but I do so love to drink it. Would you pour it out for us, Lucilla? The tea is already brewing in the pot and Dermot has kindly added water to the leaves.”
The young man was now sitting in a most relaxed manner on the sofa with his arms along the back of it and his legs stretched out to the fire, as if he felt completely at home in Nanny’s little parlour.
“Did you know that we both have something in common,” he said, as Lucilla passed him a cup and saucer.
Her face was warm with shyness and she wondered what he might mean. Had he remembered that they both knew Ethel?
“Would you care for some bread and jam?” she asked him, turning away so that he could not see that she was flustered.
“I rather think we should ask Nanny!” he said with a laugh. “What do you think, Nanny? Have I been well behaved? Or is it plain bread and butter for me, today?”
Nanny clucked her tongue and shook her head.
“Well, I don’t know what to say, Dermot. It was most impolite of you to mistake my house guest for the parlour maid!”
The young man leapt to his feet and, standing in front of Lucilla, made a deep bow.
“Lady Lucilla Welton, I believe,” he said in a low courteous voice. “Please will you accept the most humble and sincere apologies of the Marquis of Castlebury for his foolish and insensitive behaviour just now.”
Lucilla gave a little gasp of surprise.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked, his brown eyes glinting with merriment, “for I am not sure I can stomach bread and butter all on its own!”
“Oh, please, don’t worry,” Lucilla cried. “I came to answer the door in an apron and so it would be perfectly natural to mistake me for a parlour maid – if you had never met me before – ”
She looked up at him, watching his face for any sign of acknowledgement that he might have remembered Ethel’s party.
But he was smiling at her in a cheerful and relaxed way. “There – you see, Nanny! Lucilla forgives me, as she understands exactly what happened. All I noticed was the apron, as I was looking at her from behind the bunch of roses I had brought for my favourite lady.”
Nanny was still looking stern. “Don’t you think you can get around me like that, young Dermot. What do you say, Lucilla? Shall we allow this young gentleman some jam with his bread?”
Lucilla smiled to herself, as she remembered how strict Nanny had always been about good manners. “Of course,” she agreed, “I know how hard it is to be deprived of jam. It happened to me many times when I forgot my P’s and Q’s!”
The Marquis of Castlebury sat down again on the sofa. “Dear Nanny. What a tyrant she was. But how I missed her when I went away to school and she deserted us to go and look after you, Lucilla!”
“You must be happy to have her living so close to you now,” Lucilla remarked, as she passed him the plate of bread and jam.
“We are very lucky, my sister and I, that she agreed to come and be with us,” the Marquis added, as he helped himself to a large slice, “as her strawberry jam is surely the best in the world!”
Nanny shook her head again. “Flattery!” she sighed. “It’ll get you nowhere. I am now going to put my roses in some water before they wilt in the heat of the fire and I shall expect you two to behave politely and respectfully to each other while I’m out of the room!”
The old lady climbed awkwardly to her feet and gathered up the large bunch of flowers.
“They are very beautiful,” Lucilla said, as Nanny went slowly out of the parlour, her arms full of roses.
“The best our hothouses have to offer,” the Marquis replied, finishing his bread and jam. “I have to go away for a while and I will miss Nanny very much indeed. She is my favourite person in the world, next to my sister Violet.”
Lucilla nodded. “And mine, too, since Mama and Papa died.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. How awful. Are you all on your own – or do you have brothers and sisters?”
“It is just myself,” Lucilla told him, willing herself not to cry. The Marquis’s brown eyes then turned dark with concern.
“So, where do you live? At your parents’ home? Where is that?”
“I – am staying here for a while. My family home is up for sale, as there is not enough money to run it now that Papa is gone.”
The Marquis shook his head sadly. “I do sympathise. The upkeep of an estate can be a huge burden, if it is properly run. Some of the local gentry seem happy to send their servants and farm workers away when they are no longer able to earn their keep, but I could never do that. They have given the best of their lives to my family and it is my duty to support them in their time of need.”
Lucilla recalled what Nanny had told her about her meals sent down to Holly Cottage from Appleton Hall.
“I agree with you!” she said. “Our servants – those who had been with us at Wellsprings Place for a long time were almost like family.”
“And then, of course, one has responsibilities to one’s house,” the Marquis was saying. “Appleton Hall has stood for centuries and I intend that it shall stand for many more – but the restoration work that I am having to do is costing me very dear.”
Lucilla then thought about Wellsprings Place and all the plans her Papa had made for repairs to the roof and interior decorations, plans that would never be carried out.
“It is, indeed, a huge responsibility,” she sighed.
The Marquis’s eyes flashed suddenly. “The great houses of England are one of our finest assets!” he trumpeted. “And we must do all in our power to protect them and to promote all their glories at home and abroad. That is why I am going away for a while.”
Lucilla felt herself turning cold at the thought of him disappearing so soon after she had found him again.
She was about to ask him where he was going and for how long, when he spoke again.
“But, Lucilla, you must come up to The Hall before I go. Please, will you join us for luncheon tomorrow?” he asked, rising to his feet and standing in front of her. “That is if Nanny can spare you,” he added quickly, as the old lady appeared in the parlour door.
“Of course I can!” Nanny Groves said, making her way back to her seat by the fire. “Lucilla mustn’t spend all her time cooped up here with me!”
“Nanny, I really don’t mind a bit, I love being here with you!” Lucilla cried, but even as she said it, her heart began to beat faster at the thought of the next day. The Marquis said his goodbyes and Lucilla watched from the parlour window as he made his way along the garden path to the little front gate.
‘What is it about him that makes me feel like this?’ she thought, looking at his dark hair and broad shoulders as he walked away from her. But she could find no answer, although her heart was beating so fast that it was shaking her whole body.
CHAPTER SIX
Lucilla had always thought that Wellsprings Place, where she had grown up, was the loveliest country house she had ever seen.
But, as she walked gingerly up the curved drive to the Marquis of Castlebury’s home, her breath making a little cloud in the cold air, she thought there was something about Appleton Hall that was especially beautiful.
Was it the soft colour of the honey-coloured stone? Or the graceful proportions of the tall windows? Or just the atmosphere of welcome that seemed to emanate from the elegant porch and the wide front door?
Lucilla pushed her cold hands deep into the pockets of her pink coat and stood still for a moment, looking up at the old house and trying to make up her mind just exactly why she found it so appealing.
Then she heard a shrill yapping and a small white dog raced towards her and started jumping up excitedly.
“Daisy!” a girl’s voice called. “Oh dear, I am so sorry, she is going to ruin your lovely coat with her muddy paws!”
Lucilla looked down at the dog’s little snub-nosed face and bulging black eyes and she laughed at its comical expression. “It really doesn’t matter! I am sure the mud will brush away.”
“You are very sweet,” remarked the tall dark-haired young woman who was approaching her across the wide lawn in the front of the house. “Daisy is so naughty about jumping up, especially if she likes somebody.”
She held out her hand to Lucilla. “I am Violet Castlebury, Dermot’s sister. And you must be Lucilla.”
Violet’s eyes were as soft and dark as pansies and Lucilla could tell from the shape of her eyebrows and her elegant nose that she was indeed the Marquis’s sister.
“My brother was so very amused to meet another of Nanny Groves’s charges!” Violet was saying. “We often wondered, when we were younger, about the little girl she had left us for.”
The little dog was scrabbling at Lucilla’s coat hem as if it would have liked to jump into her arms.
“Daisy, do get down!” Violet exclaimed, picking up her pet and kissing the top of its head. “She adores you, it’s obvious! But we have been looking at the spring bulbs, which are just coming up in the Park and her paws are very muddy. You must be cold, Lucilla – do come inside.”
Inside Appleton Hall was even more glorious than Lucilla had expected. As she now stepped into the hall, she breathed in the fragrant scents of lavender wax and of the white lilies that stood in a great vase on top of the piano.
“My brother loves music,” Violet went on, as she led Lucilla into
the drawing room, “and he insists that the hall has the best acoustics of any room in the house, so he must have his piano there!”
Lucilla remembered how he had come to the little salon at the Armstrongs, when he had heard her playing Chopin, but she said nothing. The Marquis had obviously forgotten that day and would not have said anything to his sister and so Violet would not know that they had met before. As they sat by the marble fireplace in the drawing room, Violet asked how long Lucilla was planning to stay at Holly Cottage.
“I – really don’t know,” Lucilla replied. She looked away from Violet and then turned to the dog that was now sitting on the sofa beside her, resting its head in her lap and gazing up at her with beseeching eyes.
Violet smiled at her. “You must forgive me, but Daisy has taken such a fancy to you. And I am about to go away to the Continent. I wondered if – but no, I must not impose on you.”
“If you were going to ask me if I would look after her for you, I should love to!” Lucilla enthused. Daisy’s snub-nosed face was very appealing and it was so comforting to feel the dog’s warm little body lying against her.
“I may be away some time,” Violet said, a shadow passing over her pale face. Lucilla was wondering just how she might explain, without revealing too much of what had happened to her in London, that she would probably be staying with Nanny Groves for quite a long while, when the drawing room door swung open and the Marquis came in.
“Violet! My darling sister! You are looking utterly tragic.” He leant over the back of Violet’s chair and ruffled her hair affectionately. “Our guest will get quite the wrong impression of life at Appleton Hall.”
Lucilla’s heart skipped a beat, as he left Violet and came over to take her hand. It was almost too much to have him so close to her, even more handsome than he was yesterday.
“Lady Lucilla – welcome!” he said and her skin tingled as she felt his lips brush the back of her fingers.
“So – and what have you girls been discussing?” he continued, balancing on the arm of the sofa and stretching his long legs out to the fire.
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