Fairfield Hall

Home > Other > Fairfield Hall > Page 26
Fairfield Hall Page 26

by Margaret Dickinson


  Forty-One

  The fire had been reported to the police in Thorpe St Michael, but the culprits – believed to be Nancy’s former Friday-night visitors – had suddenly declared to their families that they had found more lucrative work ‘up north’ and had disappeared, leaving no forwarding address. Not even their wives knew where they had gone. But all that mattered to Annabel was that Nancy, Bertie and Agnes were safe and miraculously unharmed.

  Bertie had not been the only one to make a friend following the fire. The next morning, when the homeless family were waking up on the top floor, Private Harry Jenkins approached John Searby. ‘Mester Searby, I’d like to see Nancy, but I don’t want to cause more gossip and speculation about the lass.’

  John Searby had eyed him suspiciously. He knew what soldiers were like. Even his own master had a mistress in London, if the rumours were to be believed. ‘You’d better talk to Mrs Parrish. She’s in charge of the women-folk in this household at the moment. She’ll tell you what’s best.’ But Nelly Parrish had shrugged her shoulders. ‘’Tis nowt to do wi’ me. I’m just carrying out her ladyship’s orders. Though I’d be careful, young feller, while they’re in this house.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Lady Dorothea’s in a temper about it all now, so—’

  ‘I want it to be all above board, ma’am. I’ve spoken to her ladyship – Lady Annabel, that is – and she said she’d speak to Miss Banks, but then the fire happened and – well – I don’t rightly know what to do now and we’re going back to camp in a couple of days. I don’t want to go without speaking to Nancy.’

  ‘Is it just speaking you want or summat more?’ Nelly asked bluntly and, hardy soldier though he was, the colour flooded Harry’s face.

  ‘I just want to talk to her, ma’am. I promise you that’s all.’

  Nelly regarded him for a moment and then suddenly seemed to make up her own mind about him. She gave a brief nod. ‘I tell you what,’ she said. ‘You help me this morning – if it’s not beneath you. With all these extra folks about the place, I don’t know if I’m on me head or me heels, and when she comes down, you can have a little chat with her right here in my kitchen.’ She wagged her finger at him. ‘I rule the roost in here and don’t let anyone else tell you different.’

  Harry grinned at her. ‘I wouldn’t dare, ma’am. You’re far more frightening than any drill sergeant. Now, what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Them potatoes need peelin’ if we’re to eat today and there’s no need to call me “ma’am”. I’m Mrs Parrish.’

  Harry laughed. ‘Right you are, Mrs Parrish, and I’m a dab hand at peeling spuds. In the Army, it’s a punishment and I’ve done a fair few in me time.’

  ‘It’s not a punishment today, lad, but,’ her eyes twinkled, ‘it could earn you a reward.’

  Harry set to work in the scullery but he kept glancing out of the doorway to see if Nancy might be there. Nelly chuckled to herself. ‘Eh, what it is to be young.’

  A little later, Nancy came downstairs, slipping shyly into the kitchen unsure of her welcome amongst the staff.

  ‘There you are, Nancy,’ Nelly greeted her, raising her voice so that Harry could hear. He appeared in the doorway leading from the scullery into the kitchen, a half-peeled potato in one hand, a small knife in the other and dripping water onto the floor.

  ‘Don’t mek a mess on my kitchen floor,’ Nelly remonstrated, but she could hardly hide her laughter. ‘Ya can leave that now and come and help Nancy get breakfast for her little boy and her mam.’ She turned back to Nancy. ‘Are they coming down?’

  ‘I – we didn’t know quite what we should do.’

  ‘Well, lass, you nip back upstairs and tell them to come down here and you can all sit at my kitchen table to have your breakfast.’ Her glance went to Harry and, unseen by Nancy, Nelly winked at him. ‘And I expect you’d like a plate of bacon and eggs, wouldn’t you, young feller?’

  ‘Never say no to that, Mrs Parrish. Ta.’ And as Nancy turned away with a faint pink tinge in her cheeks, he returned Nelly’s wink.

  The friendship between the soldier and Nancy Banks blossomed, but under the watchful eye of Agnes Banks or Nelly Parrish and her mother, who was still living at Fairfield Hall, helping out with whatever little jobs she could do. Restoring her cottage was taking longer than expected and there was far more pressing work to be done in the village. There must be no more scandal, the three older women had decided between them.

  ‘He’s a good ’un to even think of teking her on,’ Agnes sighed.

  ‘Put it all behind you, Agnes, and move on,’ Nelly advised. ‘Lady Annabel will help you get resettled and, if I’m not mistaken, the villagers will forgive in time.’

  And now Agnes, Nancy and Bertie were standing in their new home surrounded by the gifts from the villagers; gifts they could barely afford to give and yet they had wanted the family to know that they were ready to welcome them back into the close-knit community. They knew it was what the new Lady Fairfield wanted and in their gratitude for her help, they were prepared to extend a forgiving hand.

  Harry Jenkins carried up the last of the boxes and set it down. ‘You’ll be all right here,’ he said, smiling at Nancy. ‘I’ve got to go now, but I’ll come and see you next time I come home with his lordship.’ Suddenly the young soldier was tentative. ‘Will – that be all right?’ His gaze was on Nancy’s pretty face, but his question was addressed to both Nancy and her mother. Agnes was the first to answer. ‘It’s fine by me, if it’s what Nancy wants.’

  Shyly, Nancy nodded.

  ‘I’ll say “goodbye”, then, and let you get settled in.’

  ‘Right,’ Agnes said, rolling up her sleeves. ‘Let’s get this place ship-shape. I don’t want Lady Annabel visiting and finding us still in a mess.’

  But Lady Annabel was at that moment saying a fond farewell to her husband. They lay together in the huge bed, both of them reluctant to leave it. ‘I’d better make a move. Jenkins will be waiting.’

  Annabel chuckled and snuggled closer to James. ‘I doubt it. I think he’s saying his own farewells to Nancy.’

  ‘I hope his intentions are honourable!’ James laughed.

  ‘From what I hear, they’re anything but, but I think he’s being made to toe the line by her mother and – of all people – Nelly Parrish. And no doubt they’ll be under the watchful eye of the whole village.’

  With a sigh, James heaved himself out of her arms and rolled out of bed. ‘I must say “goodbye” to Mama and my dear sister and then I’d better be on my way.’ He turned and looked over his shoulder. ‘And just you mind you behave yourself while I’m away. There’s no need for you to spend so much time with Ben Jackson now. You’ve got the villagers back on their feet. They can fend for themselves. If you need something to occupy your time, you could concentrate on getting this house back in order. It’s all but falling to pieces.’

  Annabel stared at him, but said nothing. She was amazed and appalled at how the man she had married seemed to be two people. Last night he had been loving and tender but all that had been spoilt by a few brusque words. But instead of retaliating, she murmured, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Inwardly, she was seething and she had no intention of staying away from either the village or from Ben Jackson.

  James and Harry Jenkins had left with promises that they’d get home again as soon as they could, though they doubted that it would be for Christmas, which was less than three weeks away. Annabel breakfasted leisurely, even though she wanted to visit both the village and the outlying farms to see how things were progressing, and she steeled herself to linger. She didn’t want Dorothea writing to James to tell him that the moment his back was turned, she had sought the company of Ben Jackson.

  ‘So, he’s gone again, has he?’ Dorothea joined her at the breakfast table, helping herself to generous portions of the food that was now available.

  ‘Mm, back to barracks, I presume.’

  Dorothea smirked. ‘If you believe that, then you’re more n
aïve than I thought.’

  Annabel raised her eyebrows but said nothing, knowing that Dorothea would not be able to contain herself. ‘He’s not due back at camp until tomorrow. He’ll spend the night in London –’ she paused for effect before adding maliciously, ‘with his mistress.’

  Annabel forced herself to reply calmly. ‘So you keep saying. I presume you know who the lady is.’

  Dorothea’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh yes, I know. I know her quite well.’ She leaned forward. ‘And so do you.’

  Now Annabel was startled. ‘Me? How could I possibly—?’ she began, but then stopped as realization came slowly and she understood even before Dorothea added, triumphantly, ‘James’s mistress is Lady Cynthia Carruthers – the woman who introduced him to you.’

  Forty-Two

  It was a bitter pill to swallow, but with magnificent control of her features, Annabel managed not to let Dorothea see how much her words had affected her. Foolishly, she’d believed that James’s ardent lovemaking – and passionate it had certainly been – had been genuine; that he really did love her. But in her world a man who truly loved his wife did not keep a mistress. Perhaps it was different in the aristocratic world, perhaps it was accepted, even expected. It seemed it was if Lady Carruthers, who was supposed to have married for love, could also be unfaithful to her husband. But it was not what Annabel wanted. In the privacy of her bedroom, she allowed the tears to fall as all hope of her love for him being returned finally faded. Resolutely, Annabel lifted her head and vowed that she would continue as she had begun. She would bring this estate back to its former glory whether James would love her for it or not. At least she would have affection and respect from the grateful villagers. And perhaps even Dorothea’s attitude would thaw a little if Annabel’s money refurbished Fairfield Hall.

  Annabel jumped to her feet. She would begin that project right now, just as her husband had instructed. Once begun, she could write to him truthfully telling him of the progress of the renovations on the house and omitting any mention of her ongoing restoration of the wider estate. Though she was sure he would hear of it, for Dorothea would make sure he knew.

  With renewed vigour, Annabel went along the corridor to the dowager countess’s bedroom. She tapped on the door, and it was opened by Nurse Newton.

  ‘Good morning, my lady. Her ladyship is in good spirits this morning. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you. Do come in. She’s so much better now, m’lady. Although it’s taken a long time for her to recover, she really doesn’t need me any longer. I shall be leaving tomorrow.’

  Annabel approached the window where Lady Fairfield was sitting, gazing out across the expanse of neglected lawn behind the house.

  ‘I can’t quite see my garden from here,’ Elizabeth murmured. She did look much better. There was colour in her cheeks but her voice still quavered. Annabel sat down near her and asked gently. ‘Your garden? Where is that?’

  Elizabeth Lyndon waved a bony, wrinkled hand. ‘Behind the stables. My husband built me a walled garden as a wedding present where I could sit, sheltered from the east winds. It used to be so beautiful in summer, with all kinds of flowers. I loved the roses especially. Have you seen it? Is it still there?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out.’ Annabel had had little time to look at the gardens; the estate had been her priority, but now she promised that she would explore the grounds belonging to the house.

  Elizabeth’s voice trembled as she said, ‘I’d so like to see it again but I expect it’s overgrown. Dorothea says we haven’t a gardener now. Only young Luke, and he can’t cope with all the outside work on his own.’ She lapsed into silence, her head drooped forward, and she slept.

  Quietly, Annabel stood up and moved away saying softly to the nurse. ‘I’ll come back later.’

  ‘Just before dinner is the best time.’ Nurse Newton smiled. ‘She dozes on and off throughout the day, but in the early evening, the thought of a good meal seems to revive her.’

  Annabel went down to the kitchen, deep in thought. As she entered, Nelly Parrish seemed flustered. ‘Oh m’lady, Lady Dorothea’s been down to talk about the menus. I hope that’s all right.’ The woman was suddenly anxious and Annabel was swift to reassure her. ‘That’s quite all right. I’m happy for Lady Dorothea to run the household as she always has done.’

  Nelly could not stifle a chuckle. ‘We’re all hoping it won’t be run as in the recent past, but please don’t tell her I said so.’

  Annabel smiled, but did not want to get into a conversation with a member of staff that belittled her sister-in-law in any way. Although she treated the servants as equals and always would, Annabel understood it was not the protocol observed in a noble household. Instead, she changed the subject. ‘I came to find either Mr Searby or Luke.’

  ‘Mr Searby’s in the butler’s pantry along the passageway, m’lady, and Luke’ll be outside somewhere. Best you speak to Mr Searby first though.’ Nelly raised her voice. ‘Annie, come here, girl.’

  Annie appeared from the scullery wiping her red hands on a cloth. When she saw Annabel she bobbed a curtsy.

  ‘Fetch Mr Searby. Her ladyship would like a word.’ Nelly turned back to Annabel. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Thank you. Make one for all of us – Annie too. We can talk about the extra staff we need.’ Annabel sat down at the table and was soon joined by Nelly, John Searby and Annie.

  ‘I really came to ask you what you thought about outside staff. Lady Fairfield has been telling me about the walled garden she seemed to be so fond of. I presume it’s still there, but I expect it’s neglected.’

  ‘Oh m’lady, she loved that garden. Used to spend hours there with a book or her embroidery.’

  ‘But it’s badly overgrown now. No one’s been near it for months – years, I suspect,’ John said.

  ‘And after her husband died, she lost heart for going there and then, when things got difficult and the number of staff dwindled,’ Nelly put in, ‘there just weren’t enough hands to keep everything right.’

  ‘And that brings us back to discussing just how many more staff we need in the house too.’

  ‘You’ve been so good to us, m’lady,’ John began, ‘that the house is gradually getting back to what it used to be, but because it is, the work is getting too much for the staff we have.’

  ‘Then tell me what you need, so I have an idea how many we’re talking about, but I’d like you to talk this over with Lady Dorothea. Let the suggestions come from her. I don’t want her to feel I’m undermining her household management.’

  ‘It’d be nice to have a proper housekeeper again. I’ve enough to do with the cooking. I don’t suppose,’ Nelly added wistfully, ‘Agnes would come back, would she?’

  ‘I can ask her, but I think she’d rather stay with Nancy and Bertie now. They’re going to start dressmaking again.’

  Nelly blinked. ‘Will there be enough business for them?’

  Annabel laughed. ‘If we’re getting new staff, there’ll be uniforms to make and I don’t think you’d say no to some new outfits, would you?’

  The butler eyed his well-worn cuffs ruefully. ‘I’ve done my best with this suit, but it’s about falling to pieces on my back.’ He paused and then went on, ‘When Mrs Banks was housekeeper here she used the room at the side of the hall as a bedsitting room, but I believe you’re planning to turn that into the estate office, m’lady, aren’t you?’

  ‘Only if it’s not needed for anything else, but if you think we need a housekeeper . . .’

  John and Nelly glanced at each other. ‘We don’t really, m’lady. To be honest, I think Lady Dorothea likes to hold the reins herself.’

  ‘So,’ Annabel said. ‘Who else do we need?’

  ‘We don’t need a footman – it’s not necessary with his lordship only coming home now and again – and he brings his batman with him, so no. A parlour maid would be a help, though. She can do a lot of the work a footman would do, and yet be able to help out in o
ther ways.’

  ‘I really could do with a kitchen maid,’ Nelly said tentatively. ‘Poor Annie’s run off her feet with trying to do a housemaid’s work and look after the Dowager Countess and Lady Dorothea. Your Jane’s been a godsend, but she’s looking very weary these days. Between them they’ve been trying to clean the whole house, but it’s too much.’

  ‘And Luke – he was originally employed as a boot boy, but he’s now looking after the new pony and trap as well as Mr Jackson’s, keeping up with cleaning boots and shoes and trimming all the lamps every day.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, you’re making me feel tired just listening to you,’ Annabel groaned comically. ‘Right, so we need a young boy to come as a boot boy and to promote Luke. Is that what you’re saying?’

  John nodded. ‘And we could do with at least one more housemaid.’

  ‘I think one would be enough, Mr Searby,’ Nelly said, ‘especially if you’re to have a parlour maid to help you. And they needn’t live in, m’lady, except perhaps the boot boy. You could employ lasses from the village to come in daily.’

  ‘What about the laundry? Who does that?’

  ‘Annie’s had to do it all on her own, but if we get more maids, they’d manage it between them.’

  Annabel nodded her agreement and went on, ‘Now, Mr Searby, if you can somehow bring the topic up with Lady Dorothea and get her approval – without mentioning me – then we can get things moving.’

  As Annabel rose to go, Nelly, with tears in her eyes, touched her hand. ‘We can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing, m’lady.’

  Annabel felt a lump in her throat and all she could do was nod a reply. Their gratitude was overwhelming. She just prayed the estate would soon start to pay its way. She returned upstairs to fetch her coat and hat. Jane was nowhere to be seen, but she suspected she was helping out by undertaking more housemaid duties. Annabel went up to the nursery where she found Dorothea giving Theo his morning lessons.

 

‹ Prev