The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  He could hear his companion crashing along behind him, but didn't wait for him to catch up. Much as he loved his younger brother, he found his enthusiasm a sore trial at times and relished his moments of solitude.

  He stopped to open the rickety wooden gate that led through a brick archway into the kitchen garden. You could barely see this had once been an area where sufficient vegetables had been grown to feed everyone here. The place was, like the rest of the grounds, full of weeds and in desperate need of attention. He could not understand why his late uncle, from whom he had inherited both the title and a massive fortune, had been so miserly as to leave his estates in such a poor way.

  There was no land agent, had not been for several years, and as he had ridden through the surrounding villages he had noticed the lack of whitewash on the walls and the sagging roofs. The few children he had seen playing were thin and raggedy, no smiles of welcome on their faces. The only place where everyone appeared well fed was in the immediate vicinity of Kesgrave Abbey.

  His face was grim as he marched through the ruined vegetable plot and back, past the stables, to the rear of the house. If the grounds and cottages were in poor repair his abode was even worse. There were gaping holes in the roof, dozens of broken panes of glass in the windows, and the old part, the original abbey, was uninhabitable. The floorboards here were rotten, the mullions crumbling and it would take more money than he was prepared to spend to bring it back.

  He sighed. He had harboured no wish to be a grand landowner, was quite content with the modest estate he had from his own father ten years ago. He had not expected to have the title, as far as he had known there were three healthy cousins, all married, in line before him. However, one by one they had succumbed to various accidents and ailments over the years and even their progeny had been female.

  Now he was master of all he surveyed. His days as a major in Wellington's army had been brought abruptly to a halt when the letter informing him of his new position had eventually caught up with him. It had taken over two years to reach him and he had had no option but to resign his commission immediately and return to England. After collecting his brother from Oxford he had ridden posthaste to view his new inheritance. He wished he had been aware years ago that he was next in line, for he would have made sure Kesgrave Abbey was kept in better repair and all its tenants taken care of. Obviously his uncle had been too wrapped up in his own misery to send him word.

  'Hey, Dolly, wait for me. I hope the rest of the female population in these parts is as pretty as those two. As your heir I feel I have gained enormously in prestige and importance and intend to make the most of it. You have yet to tell me how much my allowance is going to be? My pockets are to let at the moment, it will be a rare treat to have flimsies to spare.'

  'Percy, if you persist in calling me by that ridiculous name I shall be forced to draw your cork. It is all very well for a child in leading strings to use such a diminutive for Adolphus, but we're both full-grown and it is time you used my proper name, or call me Richard if you prefer, it is my middle name after all, and the one I used in the regiment.'

  His brother laughed and slapped him on the back, the force of the blow making him stumble forwards. 'You punch me on the nose? I should like to see you try. I am taller than you and half a stone heavier.' The young man had scarcely finished speaking when he found himself flat on his back gasping for breath. 'I say, that was unfair! Using your battleground methods on your only sibling is the outside of enough.'

  Richard reached down and, grabbing his brother's outstretched hand, pulled him easily to his feet. He might be lighter and shorter than Percy, but he was battle hardened, not an ounce of spare flesh on his frame, and he moved with the speed and agility of a man well used to dodging bayonets and sabres.

  'Enough tomfoolery, brother. We have work to do. You have a good head on your shoulders when you care to use it, which is why I removed you from university. I have need of your mathematical skills and drawing ability in order to start making sense of this chaos here.'

  'It's a good thing you've been left a pot of money, because I think it's going to take every coin you've got to restore this place.'

  They walked in through the back door; they hadn't quite got used to the fact that they were lords of the manor and should not be using servants' entrances. It did not befit their elevated station.

  There were two men in the kitchen, both with sleeves rolled up and aprons tied around their sturdy frames. Richard greeted his manservant, Enderby, who had served beside him for the past five years he'd spent fighting against the upstart Napoleon Bonaparte.

  'Enderby, have you mastered the infernal contraption that masquerades as a cooking range here?'

  The older man grinned, his remaining teeth flashing white in his tanned face. 'I have, my lord, and it's burning up a treat. You'll have hot water and a cooked meal tonight, that I can promise you.'

  'Good man. What about you, Mitchell? Have you taken to your duties as a kitchen maid?'

  The younger man laughed. 'It makes a change from shoveling sh…, begging your pardon, sir… from working outside.'

  Chuckling, Richard left the two busy at their unaccustomed tasks and headed into the house. The only rooms that were usable, even in summer, were the library and study. The old man had used these two rooms himself, sleeping on a day bed in the library. It had taken no more than a couple of hours to scrub the rooms clean, now all they had to do was locate bed linen for them both.

  'Come along, Percy, we have to find the things we shall need tonight. Though, of course, you are young enough to sleep on the floor if necessary, but I, in my elevated position as a peer of the realm, insist that I have both bed linen and blankets to cover me.'

  He dodged his brother’s buffet easily and together they ran up the stairs to begin delving into bedrooms hoping to come across usable bed coverings and pillows.

  *

  The Sabbath dawned bright and clear and Emma took particular care over her appearance that morning.

  'I think this gown of sprig muslin looks as fresh and dainty as the day I made it,' Eugenie said as she twirled in front of her sister. 'The lemon wrap of Indian silk is a perfect complement to my outfit and the new ribbons on my best bonnet will complete the ensemble. What do you think, Emma?’

  She pushed the last pin into her fiery coronet before answering. 'I think you look delightful, my love, as always. I envy you your corn coloured curls, so much more acceptable in society than mine.'

  'But we would still be known as sisters, Emma. We have the same build, we are both of medium height and slender and our eyes are a perfect match. The squire's son, David Culley, told me that mine sparkled like the most precious emeralds.'

  'Well! He had absolutely no right to do so, my dear. Whatever were you thinking of to encourage him to make such familiar remarks?' She was smiling as she spoke and knew her sister would take no offence at her reprimand. 'There, I can do no more. I thank God for the box of Indian silks and muslins we discovered in the attic. Without them we should be poorly dressed indeed.'

  She stood up, shaking out the folds in her high-waisted, pale green, muslin gown. She ran the filmy material through her fingers, loving the feel of it; this was an absolute favourite. She reached over and picked up her Sunday bonnet, a shallow brimmed confection with dark green ribbons and a fetching bunch of cherries attached to one side. She placed it on her head and tied the bow.

  'Will I do, Eugenie? Do you think Lord Denver will recognize us as the village girls he caught stealing his plums the other day?'

  Her sister giggled. 'I doubt it. Dressed as we are, we look as fine as anyone in the neighbourhood.' She raised the hem of her gown and stared gloomily at her sensible brown walking boots. 'I do wish we had sufficient funds to buy pretty footwear too. These boots are hardly attractive, are they?'

  'No, but they're practical, and we have half a mile to walk to church and fancy slippers would be ruined in no time. Of course, if we could afford a carriage
, then we could have dozens of pairs of slippers to go with it.'

  Laughing, they ran down stairs together to be met by Aggie and Jane, also in their best, who were going to accompany them. Word had spread throughout the village that the new occupants of the abbey were finally in residence and everyone, even the reluctant attendees, were going to put in an appearance at matins that morning.

  'Come, the bells are ringing, we don't want to be late, not today.' Emma pulled on her gloves, slipped her reticule strap over her wrist, adjusted her shawl, and then checked her appearance in the mirror by the door. With her sister at her side, their two servants behind them, they left the vicarage.

  *

  Richard was in his shirt sleeves and stockings perched on the roof of the abbey. He heard the church bells and swore loudly. He realised at once he had committed a calamitous faux pas by failing to attend church on his first morning as lord of the manor. He knew, with absolute certainty, the congregation would be expecting him to appear, that they would have turned out in their finery especially for him. They had been without an overlord for far too long and at this, his first obligation, he had failed miserably.

  There was no time to scramble down through the attic, change and ride to church. Better not to go at all than arrive late. He would go to evensong; at least he could meet Mr Meadows, the incumbent. He shrugged and shouted down through the hole in the roof to his brother, who was in the attic below.

  'I shall need some more timber as the battens are rotten and will not hold the tiles when I replace them.'

  A few moments later the tousled head of his sibling appeared beside him. 'Here you are, do you have sufficient nails?'

  He did, and for the next hour he continued to repair the largest hole in the roof. This one let water into the main bed chambers which stood below the attics, and it was these rooms he wished to get back into use as soon as possible. He had been perfectly comfortable stretched out on the chaise-longue in the study, but before he could start employing the staff he needed to repair and run his massive house he believed it wise for both of them to have their own bed chambers. Even he knew etiquette demanded he should not be seen prowling around downstairs in his unmentionables.

  *

  'How rude of them not to put in an appearance this morning, Emma. I had thought his lordship would have known better than to absent himself, today of all days.'

  'So you have said several times, my dear, and I have agreed with you on every point. We know nothing about Lord Denver, perhaps he is not cognizant of his obligations? As it took over two years for him to arrive here, it's possible he was unaware he was next in line.' Emma stopped abruptly. 'Yes, I'm sure that is what it is. He must have been a commoner, a distant relative of the late Lord Denver, and had had no expectations of inheriting the title.'

  'Also, he's scarcely older than I am, I put him at about three and twenty, what do you think?'

  'About that, yes. His companion was considerably older, I would say nearer thirty than twenty. He was a supercilious gentleman; do you think he might have been his tutor? He certainly had an air of authority and Denver did not seem to mind him giving orders in his stead.'

  Eugenie had rushed ahead, swinging her bonnet in one hand and obviously hadn't heard her comments. She wished her sister was a little less volatile, but she supposed this liveliness was part of her charm and as Eugenie was still three years from her majority she had no reason to be staid and solemn.

  Since Mama had died it had been her role to run the house and take care of her younger sister; her father was a kind man, and a good pastor to his flock, but he had no head for figures. If things were left to him they would be sadly in debt. She sighed, then laughed at herself. She was doing far too much of this lately, high time she accepted that at four and twenty she was past her prime and try and devote her remaining years to looking after her father and acting as his chatelaine.

  She couldn't understand why an image of the dark featured friend of Lord Denver kept slipping into her head at the slightest opportunity. She would, in future, remain fully occupied then she would have no time to dwell on this unpleasant stranger.

  Chapter Three

  At just after seven o'clock Emma put down her basket of mending. 'I shall go and make the tea, I heard Papa on the path. Are you going to join us tonight, Eugenie?'

  Her sister had been gazing across the room lost in thought and didn't respond immediately. 'Eugenie?'

  'I beg your pardon, did you say something? Were you asking me about tea?'

  'I was, my dear, Papa is home; I heard him coming in a moment ago.'

  'It is far too warm tonight for tea, I should like some lemonade, if there is any left, thank you.'

  Emma hurried from the room and met her father crossing the flagstone hall looking far more relaxed than he had for months.

  'Emma, my dear, Lord Denver came to evensong. I was disappointed he didn't appear this morning, as were the rest of the congregation, but in fact it was far better for him to come when it was less crowded as we had sufficient time to converse in peace after the service. His lordship is quite content for me to continue in this living as long as I should wish to do so. And, believe it or not, he has doubled my stipend.'

  Emma was stunned. Such largesse! They would be able to replace their undergarments and there were several household items they were desperately in need of too. 'That's wonderful news. I knew he was going to be an asset to the community as soon as I saw him. I am sorry I wasn't there to hear the good tidings, but no doubt I shall have ample opportunity to meet him at a later date.'

  Her father reached out and took her hands, giving them an affectionate squeeze. 'Indeed, my love, I have invited him to dine with us tomorrow so you shall meet him sooner rather than later.'

  Talking happily together they headed for the drawing-room. 'Go in and tell Eugenie, Papa, she will be as delighted as I am. I shall fetch the tea; I think tonight we shall have a slice of Aggie's plum cake to celebrate.'

  She could hardly believe the financial worries of the past few years were at an end. If their income was to double they would have more to spend than ever before. There would be sufficient to take on a maid of all work, a kitchen maid to help Aggie, and Jane could become their abigail full-time; the girl could also take over the mending and sewing that occupied most of their spare time. Papa could employ an outside man to help old Fred, who struggled to do more than take care of the cow, the hog and the domestic fowl. Good heavens! Maybe they could even afford to keep a pony and trap.

  'Aggie, we should like to have plum cake with our tea tonight; from now on you shall have a girl to help you…' She stopped, the room was empty, she was talking to herself. The kettle hissed gently on the range and the tea tray was laid out as usual, but there was no sign of Aggie or Jane.

  They were not given to wandering off when they knew their services were required. She went to the back door and, on stepping out into the yard, heard the sound of voices coming from the cowshed. Buttercup must have calved and the two women had gone out to admire the new arrival. Well, that was one worry less, waiting for a calf was always an anxious time, even with such an experienced mother as Buttercup.

  She went back to the range and, wrapping the handle of the kettle in a thick cloth, lifted it carefully and tipped it into the teapot. The aromatic steam rose, filling her nostrils and reminding her of her mother who had loved this particular blend of tea. That was another thing: from now on they could have as much tea and coffee as they wanted. She fetched the lemonade from the pantry for Eugenie, added three generous slices of cake, and returned to the drawing-room to plan how best they could use the extra funds.

  *

  Richard was strolling back to Kesgrave Abbey with his brother well satisfied with the evening's excursion. 'Mr Meadows is an intelligent man, I'm lucky to have him as the rector here. I shall be glad to be able to ask his advice on what needs doing most urgently in the parish.'

  'That's all very well, Richard, but whatever pos
sessed you to accept his invitation to dinner? Imagine how it will be, him prosing on, indifferent food and not enough wine to wet my whistle.'

  'I could hardly refuse, it's my duty to meet his family and I'm sure the meal will be palatable and the company perfectly pleasant. I don't remember if he said how many children he had, or even if he has a wife; did he speak of either?'

  'No, I don't think he did. He might have some pretty daughters to flirt with, that would make the evening worthwhile.'

  'You're incorrigible – do you think of nothing else but young ladies and wine?' He sobered, remembering the last time his brother had overstepped the mark. 'I want your word, Percy, that you will behave yourself tomorrow night. Mr Meadow's daughters, if he has any, are to be left alone.'

  *

  'The table looks lovely, miss, it's so long since we had the damask and the candelabra out.'

  Emma smoothed the cloth remembering that the last time it had been on dining table was Christmas five years before, the last one her mother had seen. Mama would be glad they were finally using it again; the cloth was too fine to be folded up in a chest and ignored.

  'Now, Jane, do you understand your duties for this evening?'

  'Yes, miss. I'm to greet Lord Denver and his friend, take their hats and glove and place them on the stand, and then I must conduct them to the drawing-room and announce them.' The girl's brow creased. 'But I don't know the name of his friend, so how can I announce them?'

  'Oh, I had not thought of that. Well, don't announce them, after all this is only the vicarage, not a grand house. Just open the door and show them in. Mr Meadows will give them sherry-wine and twenty minutes later you must declare that dinner is served.'

  Jane giggled. 'It seems a lot of trouble to go to, but I expect that's what fine folks are used to.

  I can't remember seeing so much food in the kitchen, and all for one meal.'