He turned with relief to Belle, who sat beside him. “I have been considering the problem of keys, Miss Belle,” he said.
“You are very good, sir, to devote so much thought to the matter. I do hope it has not distracted you from your mutton.”
“No, indeed, for mutton is quite my favourite dish.”
She laughed. “I rather imagined it might be. And in the matter of the keys, what are your conclusions?”
“I believe that your father may have had a method underlying the placement of the keys. He was a man of the utmost regularity in all things, so he would have been quite systematic. I am convinced that if we were to locate all the strong boxes, we would find that the key from the small box in the desk opens the first box, which contains the key for the second box, and so on. The very last box would, of course, contain no key.”
“That is most ingenious, Mr Burford,” she said. “I feel sure you are right, although we will not be able to determine that until we have found all the boxes.”
“True. But at least we may be confident that there are more boxes to be found.”
“Yes, since Mr Thomas senior made several. But we cannot know the full number, since the poor man has inconveniently died and presumably left no record.”
“But you may have a record yourself, Miss Belle,” he said. “Your father kept meticulous accounts, I make no doubt. If his own records go back far enough, you will find the details written in his own account books.”
“What an excellent notion! I have not yet examined the account books, but there are a great many of them and I feel certain that they date back to Papa’s first inheriting the Hall. That will give me the exact number, and all that remains is to find them. And there I depend upon you, Mr Burford.”
He flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “I shall do my very best, I assure you. But at least you may be certain that there are boxes, and therefore money, to be found. I have heard this week from an old school friend whose father died suddenly a month ago, leaving the estate much encumbered, debts everywhere and no hidden cache of gold. My friend’s oldest brother, who has inherited, must sell off a great deal of land to stay afloat, and my friend is determined to find employment, so that he may not be a burden.”
“How dreadful!” she said. “I am very sorry for your friend. Is he trained for any profession? If the estate is in financial difficulties, he will not be able to afford to buy a commission in the army, or a good living in the church, I assume.”
“No, nothing of the sort. He feels a teaching post might suit him, but so close to the start of the term all the likely positions are already filled.”
“Would a village school be too demeaning for him? For we shall soon need a schoolmaster for Lower Brinford.”
“I had not thought… I assumed he was trying for a larger establishment.”
“There is not a large salary, but there may be boarders to bring in a little extra income, and there is a house provided. It might suit him for a while, until he has time to look about him for something better fitted to his abilities.”
“It is a splendid idea. Should I mention it to Miss Grace?” He felt a flutter of alarm at the prospect of holding such a conversation with so young a lady. He would immediately become tongue-tied and then what would he do?
“Mr Ambleside has engaged himself to look about for a schoolmaster. You should apply to him, I believe.”
Ah, the relief! He could talk to Ambleside without fear of his words drying up, and they could discuss the question rationally. “I shall do that, Miss Belle.”
~~~~~
Belle was impressed with Burford’s perspicacity in the matter of the keys, and his willingness to help her track down the missing boxes was delightful. It was all because of Hope, of course, she understood that, but still it was a relief to have a man at hand who was both sensible and practical. Ambleside was most amenable too, but his greater age made him a more distant figure to her. She could not imagine him crawling round on the floor to examine the undersides of rugs and chairs. Burford was only a year or so older than Belle herself, and that made him feel quite like a brother, someone to share a joke with and send for in any difficulty. She spent the rest of the meal musing on his kindness, and Hope’s good fortune in securing the affections of a man of such worth.
When the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, Lady Sara and Miss Endercott took their accustomed places either side of the fire. The sisters would have dispersed themselves about the room in twos and threes, but their mother said, “Now gather round, girls, for I have a piece of news for you.”
Obediently they formed a half-circle around her chair, arranged in order of age, as their father had always insisted. It was no longer necessary, but at times when they were all together, the old habit imposed itself and they fell naturally into the traditional pattern.
Lady Sara gazed at her daughters, her face serene. She was always calm, and Belle had never heard her mother raise her voice or show violent emotion. Whether that meant that she felt none, or was merely good at concealing her feelings was something Belle had never determined to her own satisfaction.
“Well, girls, our time of mourning is almost at an end. I propose to mark it with a dinner, inviting as many of our acquaintance as may be fitted around the table. It will be a suitable time for Amy and Mr Ambleside to make their betrothal known to the world, although I suspect the world is quite well aware of how things are between them. You may compile a list of all those you wish to invite and a menu, for my approval. It will be practice for the time when you will all have your own establishments.”
Belle was as pleased as anyone at the prospect of beginning to entertain again. She had never found balls to be particularly enjoyable, but a large dinner with friends was always agreeable. Amidst the squeals of delight from the others, she said, “When is it to be, Mama?”
“Three weeks on Tuesday.”
There was immediate silence. “But… but that is the anniversary of Papa’s death,” Amy said. “Had you forgotten, Mama?”
“How could I forget? It marks the end of our year of mourning. You girls may wear colours again and attend balls, and even I am permitted to emerge from seclusion. Mr Endercott will join us in a moment to read a sermon, so we will speak no more of it tonight. Tomorrow you may begin your preparations, and if you wish to invite one or two guests to stay at the Hall overnight, that would be acceptable. I shall myself have a guest staying. Ah, here are the gentlemen now.”
8: An Advertisement
The sisters set to work early the following morning. Grace filled several sheets of paper, only slightly marred by ink blots, with the names of all those of their acquaintance who must be invited to dinner. At first, there was no dissent. Mr Ambleside was the first name, and the Endercotts and Mr Burford followed. Then Sir Matthew and Lady Graham, and the Dowager Countess of Humbleforth, whose hospitality they had enjoyed and could now return.
“And Sir Osborne Hardy,” Grace said.
“We have not dined there this year,” Amy said. “Is it quite proper?”
“He has been in Italy for months,” Connie said. “He could not invite us to dine when he is not there himself.”
“No, but his mama was at the Manor,” Belle said. “We have been able to dine out for some time now, but we have had no invitation. I do not think he should be on the list. Besides, if you invite him, there is his friend, his mother and his sisters besides.”
“Oh, but he must be invited!” Grace said. “He is so eligible, and for all he has been gadding about all over Italy in pursuit of this contessa, it came to nothing in the end. He was interested in Amy at one time, so you may very well have a chance with him, Belle.”
Belle laughed and shook her head. “No, no, no! It was his mama who was interested in Amy. She wants a meek, conformable wife for her son, and I am not in the least meek or conformable. But by all means invite Sir Osborne and his family if you wish. And Mr Wills, too, for was he not on the list for Amy, before Mr A
mbleside elbowed him aside?”
“Indeed, he must be invited, and his mother and his aunts and his cousin, too,” Grace said. “I declare, these gentlemen have too many relations. I do not mind the cousin, for single gentlemen are always welcome, but a man’s female relatives should have the good sense to retire to Bath or to marry and not plague him for ever.”
“Mr Wills is a much better prospect than Sir Osborne,” said Connie. “Everyone knows he is in need of funds.”
“I do not know how true that is,” Belle said. “He has recently bought a new phaeton and pair, and I heard that he plans some extensive improvements to Thornside, at least one new wing, with a domed roof. There was mention of a tower with battlements. He has engaged a builder.”
“And he is fat,” Dulcie wailed. “I do not want any of us to marry a man who wears corsets and creaks when he bows.”
“Let him be invited to dine, then, but I shall not marry him if you do not like it, Dulcie dear. Grace, you have forgotten Cousin Henry, Mary and James.”
“I have not forgot, but I will set them down now. They must come, of course, for they do not dine out very often, so it will do them good.”
“They do not dine out very often because they seldom return the compliment,” Belle said.
“Willowbye is so inconveniently situated, and the roads round about are very bad,” Amy said. “I am sure they would entertain more often if there were less mud.”
At that moment, Young entered with a letter on a silver tray. “For Miss Grace,” he said, his calm tones belying the unusual nature of his mission.
“A letter? For Grace?” Dulcie said. “You are mistaken, Young.”
But Grace tossed her pen aside, scattering blots liberally over the paper, and jumped up. “Oh! So soon!”
“You are expecting this?” Amy said, in shocked tones. “Sister, do you really think—?”
“Thank you, Young. You may go now,” Grace said, snatching the letter from the tray and skipping away to the far side of the morning room.
As soon as the butler had withdrawn and the door was closed, Grace giggled. “What do you think, sisters? I put an advertisement for a schoolmaster in the Brinchester Gazette last week, and this must be a response to it.” She broke the seal and unfolded the page. “Yes, it is! A Mr Oak. That is a good English name, is it not, so he must be a most respectable person, and he has references, too. He is to come tomorrow to be interviewed.”
“Here?” Amy said. “You have invited him to come here?”
“No, no. The school house, of course. We shall interview him there.”
“Interview him? Yourself?”
“Yes. Why ever not?”
“Because it is not fitting,” Amy said. “Really, Grace, you should leave it to Mr Ambleside.”
“Stuff! We cannot wait forever. Amy, I know Mr Ambleside is a very good sort of man, and he has been most helpful, but he is too cautious at times.”
“I do not think it possible to be too cautious when it comes to offering employment,” Amy said, colouring. “It is for a man to engage a schoolmaster. Ladies may deal with the female servants, but men know best how to appraise another man.”
“Nonsense! We can manage the business perfectly well by ourselves.”
“Amy, do you expect Mr Ambleside today?” Belle said. “If you were to tell him of this Mr Oak—”
“We do not need Ambleside!” Grace said. “This is my school, and I have managed every bit of it myself, so far. I think I am the best person to judge who is suitable to teach in it.”
“I do not doubt it, dear,” Belle said. “However, Mr Ambleside has more experience of the world, and can advise you. That is all I suggest. He could oversee the interview, perhaps, and offer his opinion.”
“But he is gone to London today,” Amy said. “He has business to attend to, before…” She coloured prettily. “Settlements and so forth. He wishes to talk to his lawyers. He will not be back for a week or more.”
“Perhaps Mr or Miss Endercott…” Belle began, before realising from Grace’s expression that the case was hopeless. She might have been persuaded to accept Mr Ambleside, but she would not call upon anyone else.
“Then we will all go,” Belle said. “With six of us, we should be able to form a considered opinion of this man. But only if Mama permits it.”
And so it was agreed.
~~~~~
If Belle had harboured any hope that her mother would put a stop to the interview with Mr Oak, she was to be disappointed.
“I have already given my permission for this school to be set up,” Lady Sara said. “Whatever needs to be done, you may do. I trust to your good sense not to do anything improper or foolish, but I have no interest in the trivial details. I suppose Miss Bellows is still suffering from her fever? Well, it is no matter, so long as you are all together, and none of you are ever alone with this man, however respectable he may be. So he was private tutor to the Duke of Mortshire’s boys, was he?”
“For five years, yes,” Grace said eagerly. “And at a very exclusive school in Scotland before that — the Glenelg Academy.”
“Ah yes, I know of it. So why does he wish to take a post in a village school?”
“He injured his leg in a hunting accident, Mama, so he desires something less arduous.”
“Be sure to read his references carefully. It is what is not said that is significant. He should be honest, and a hard worker, and punctual. If those are not mentioned, be on your guard.”
“Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.”
The need to watch over Grace took precedence over Belle’s arrangement with Mr Burford to hunt for more money boxes. She did not quite like to write to him directly to postpone their engagement, for a single woman writing to a single man was open to misinterpretation if the fact were to be discovered. Instead, she wrote to Miss Endercott, explaining the reason for the change, and requesting that she convey the information to Mr Burford, to save him a wasted journey. She also had the happy thought that she might use her visit to the village to settle a few of the long-outstanding accounts of the tradesmen there.
The sisters set off to walk to the village after breakfast. It was a fine autumn day, cold and crisp, the leaves just beginning to fall and every bush aflame with berries. They walked through the woods, falling naturally into their pairs, as their father had decreed, so that Belle and Amy were side by side, and behind them Connie and Dulcie, whispering together, and at the rear Grace and Hope, chattering animatedly and occasionally shrieking with laughter.
“We should be practising our Greek,” Amy said sadly. “Or perhaps reciting a poem. Papa would be horrified to hear the others behaving in such a lax way. A walk is for the improvement of the mind, and observation of the wonders of nature, he always said. Although the observation of nature is for the return walk,” she added, so quietly that Belle barely caught the words.
“Amy, you are the only one of us who misses Papa’s scheme for improving our minds,” Belle said, tucking her arm into her sister’s. “We have been thoroughly educated to the furthest extent of our abilities, and although I do not suggest that we have passed the point where improvement is no longer possible, I believe we have reached an age when we may decide for ourselves whether to devote our hours to learning poems by heart or reading in Greek. For myself, I enjoy Greek and read it with great pleasure, so long as I am not asked to copy lines, or learn them by rote, or be tested every day and found wanting. But if you wish to recite a poem, dear sister, I am very happy to listen to it.”
“Would you? I should like that very much.” Immediately Amy launched into a very long and very affecting poem about a man whose daughter had died at the age of thirteen. Had it been read with dramatic intonation, as Mr Burford might have rendered it, Belle would have been weeping the whole way, but as it happened Amy’s recitation was rather flat and dull, for which Belle was heartily grateful. It would not do to arrive in the village with red eyes and wet cheeks.
As they approa
ched the village, the line of pairs resolved itself into a long file, with Amy at its head and Hope at the rear. Belle wondered how many years it would be before these ingrained habits were finally lost. Not so long, she suspected, for soon Amy would be married, and then everything would be different. And not long after that, she would herself be married. That was not an event she looked forward to with any great pleasure, however, so she put all such thoughts out of her mind.
Just before the first cottages of the village, they turned aside to the former gamekeeper’s cottage, which was set a short way down a narrow lane. Before it came into sight, however, they heard raised voices, which grew louder as they approached.
“Someone is at the school,” Grace said, hurrying on.
“Several someones, if I am any judge,” Belle said. “Grace! Do not run ahead! Wait for us!”
But Grace was already round the corner. Belle abandoned any pretence at dignity, picked up her skirts and ran after her. She arrived at the schoolhouse in a rush, almost colliding with her sister, who had stopped abruptly, her mouth round with surprise.
Facing her, red-faced and thoroughly bad-tempered, were three men. From their manner of dress, respectable but poor quality, Belle set them down as tradesmen of some kind.
“At last!” one said.
“Thank goodness!”
“Now we are getting somewhere.”
And as one they began to advance on the two sisters, and the four coming up behind them.
Hope squealed in alarm, and jumped backwards, and Amy hid behind Belle. Grace and Belle stood their ground.
“What is this about?” Belle said, attempting to echo her mother’s sternest tones. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come about the job,” one said.
“And so have I,” said another.
“And I, but neither of these fellows will stand aside, even though I was here first.”
“You are all here for the position of schoolmaster?” Belle said.
Belle (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 2) Page 7