by Regina Darcy
“It does smell very appetising. I wonder . . . would it be very much trouble if I took the meal here with you and then you could explain the structure of the household to me whilst we eat? It would save time and I confess to being rather hungry, although your meat and bread last night was very filling.”
“You want to eat here? Now? With us?” Abbot sounded as if he could not have heard her correctly.
“Yes, if that’s not a bother. It seems silly for me to return upstairs and wait for a tray, thus putting you to the work of preparing it, while your food goes cold, when I’m here and the food is already warm. Would that be a bother?”
“No, milady, no, it’s just—are you sure you wish to eat here? At this table?”
“If it’s not a bother.”
“No, milady, no indeed, it’s a pleasure, it is. We were only just wondering how it would be with a mistress in the household.”
“I hope it shall be pleasant for all of us,” Theodosia said as Mrs Morris bustled from her chair to fetch a plate.
“As the mistress of the manor,” Abbot said soberly, “it is for us to provide service that is pleasing to you.”
“The Marquess is pleased with your service and that is what matters. It seems to me that you have all been doing exemplary work in keeping the house so well maintained. The Marquess is considering inviting guests from time to time; would the current staff be enough for that or do you think we would need to add more?”
“Guests?” James repeated blankly. “He’s never had guests.”
“No, but he has interests and while he does not wish to entertain the members of the ton for rather extravagant evenings, he might like to welcome one or two guests who share his interests. The evenings would be for supper and conversation and there are no plans to undertake any of these evenings just yet. He has mentioned his interest in British explorers and that would be the sort of evening he is envisioning.”
Mrs Morris’ eyes widened. “I suppose our food would seem very tame after what they’ve seen,” she said. “Cannibals and shrunken heads and I don’t know what else.”
“All the more reason for them to appreciate a good English meal,” Theodosia said, hiding a smile. “The Marquess does not wish to inconvenience any of you with excess entertaining.”
“I don’t see that a meal with one of the heroes of the British seafaring voyages would be an inconvenience,” Abbot decided. “I think we should manage very well with such a guest.”
“Excellent! What about the housework? I can see that the three of you manage everything, but I plan to ask the Marquess if we might add a housemaid to the staff. What are your thoughts?”
There was a pause.
“A housemaid would be very welcome, milady,” Mrs Morris finally said. “Not that I can’t do it, I’ve been doing it, but someone younger to see to daily cleaning, now that would be very handsome of the Viscount. James here does quite a bit of it, but having a housemaid . . .we’d welcome that, wouldn’t we, Mr Abbot?”
“We would,” Abbot agreed.
“Do you know of anyone who’s a likely prospect for the job? I think it will be easier for the Marquess to hire someone if he has a recommendation. He is planning to hire a lady’s maid for me and he has several candidates to interview; he received recommendations from people he knows.”
“My sister, Elsie, she’s in service,” James volunteered. “She’s a housemaid for Lady Darvolier. She started as a kitchen maid and she’s moved up. I reckon Her Ladyship would give her a good character.”
“Would your sister be interested in leaving that position for this?”
“She would.”
James did not say anything further, but Theodosia wondered if that was because there was more to say that he deemed unsuitable for a woman’s ears. She knew little of the ton; did Lady Darvolier have an amorous husband with an eye for young maids? David would likely know and she resolved to ask him.
By the time she had finished her breakfast, Theodosia had a sense of how the household staff functioned and in what areas she could make improvements without disturbing the cohesiveness of the servants. She had learned that David had lunch at his club so, as she would be dining alone, she asked Mrs Morris to prepare a light lunch for her. She learned what David’s favourite meal choices were and approved the planned menu for the week.
Mrs Morris took her on a tour of the house. It was a larger structure inside than it appeared from the outside, and while every room was in impeccable order, the house overall lacked that spark of community that made it a home. She told the cook that she wanted to decorate the house for the holidays and Mrs Morris was immediately enthusiastic. She confirmed that the Marquess did not celebrate Christmas with any festive observances, but said that he was generous in giving the staff Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off with pay.
Theodosia assured her that that practice would continue. She guessed that she and David would be invited to Henton for Christmas Day and would dine there and return home the following day, but she would need to see if that would be acceptable to him. She would discuss the matter that night at supper.
She was in the drawing-room, making lists of items that were needed, in her opinion, for the house to transform itself into a cosy dwelling when the door opened to admit David.
“Good evening,” he said as he entered. “Abbot tells me that you have met with the staff and that I may expect to receive references from James’ sister’s employer. I understand that we are hiring a housemaid.”
“Do you mind?” Theodosia asked, contrite. “You had said that I was to oversee the running of the household and I thought that a housemaid would be a wise addition, as it would provide Mrs Morris with extra help.”
David held up his hand.
“My dear Theodosia, as I have previously said, and indeed, as is stated in the contract, the running of the household is up to you. Hiring a housemaid is an excellent idea; I ought to have thought of it. If James’ sister is well referred, then I am sure that she will be a suitable addition to the staff. I suspect that Lady Darvolier will be glad to rid herself of a pretty maid. Her son is a wastrel who has ruined more than one poor girl by getting her with child and getting the wretched maid sacked through no fault of her own.”
“I wondered if it might be something like that. James didn’t say, of course, but he was confident that his sister would accept a new position.”
“James is a hard-working young man. I would expect that his sister is no less. I pay better than Her Ladyship, and so his sister will benefit there as well. The two of them support their mother, who is very frail, and they send their wages to her for her upkeep.
Tomorrow, two young women who are seeking the position of lady’s maid are scheduled to come here for an interview. Will you join me in the library for the interviewing?”
“I have never hired staff,” Theodosia admitted.
“I have,” David answered, “But not a lady’s maid. You will need to be there to ensure that she will perform her duties according to your expectations.”
“But I have no expectations,” she protested with a laugh. “I have not had a lady’s made in some years.”
“They can be quite forbidding, I am told,” he said with a slight grin. “Why do you think I don’t have a valet?”
She was laughing at this quip when Abbot entered the room to tell them that supper would be served in the dining room. David rose and offered his arm. She linked her arm with him and together they made their way to the dining room.
“Pray give Mrs Morris my compliments,” David said as Abbot held the chair out for Theodosia. “As usual, she looks to have outdone herself. We shall serve ourselves, Abbot; there’s no need for you and James to remain.”
“Do they generally stay while you dine?” Theodosia asked as David, having carved slices of the roast, held the platter so that she could take some.
“I dine simply, but they likely thought that there would be more ceremony with a mistress of the house in resi
dence. As you see, we dine in a most unorthodox fashion, everything all together. I don’t wish to have the servants traipsing in with this course, then that course. It’s a waste of everyone’s time and so tiresome for them. I hope you do not mind?”
“Not at all. I have cooked for myself, you know, and that is how I eat.”
“You have informed your landlady that you are married now and will not be returning to your rooms?”
“I sent a message to her this morning. I wonder if James could help me transport my belongings from my rooms to here?”
“Of course. Or you may simply send him and he will take care of the process for you. You had brought your clothing with you to your cousin’s, I believe? So all that remains of your belongings are in your rooms?”
“Yes.”
“Unless you particularly wish to do so, James is quite capable of packing up your belongings and seeing that they are transferred here.”
“I’m sure he is, but . . . I think it best if I do it. Tabitha will help me.”
“As you wish. Instruct James when to hire a dray and all that you own will be brought here.”
How simple it all was, Tabitha reflected as she proceeded to eat the meal that Mrs Morris had prepared for them. One wished for supper and it appeared on the table; she needed to move her possessions to her new home and someone could be hired to attend to the task. She thought a housemaid would be a practical addition to the staff and it would be done. She had forgotten the ease of living when money was not an impediment to comfort and efficiency.
Marrying David was, it seemed, a most pragmatic way of upgrading her manner of living with virtually no cost to herself. They were not in love, so there would not be the tumultuous feeling of loss that she had experienced when Lord Bantry took off.
Now she wondered: had she been in love with him, or was she so eager to be a wife that she had convinced herself that she had an emotional connection to the man?
She looked up and let her gaze linger on her husband.
She was not in love with David Overton. Yet, here they were, at the dining table, companionably discussing perfectly ordinary matters as if they were a long-married couple. She and Lord Bantry had never, throughout their engagement, enjoyed such a simple discussion.
She could barely recall what they had talked about during their time together, his disappearance had overshadowed all that happened before it. It had not been long ago that she had been in despair, reluctant to accept her cousin’s invitation to spend the Christmas season at the Clemens’ country estate in Henton, and here she was, mistress of her own home, or at least her husband’s home, in London.
But it was not a home in the sense of permanence, she thought as she nodded in response to the Marquess’s account of his day, and she must remember that.
Before she knew it, the five years would be gone and she would be away from this residence. Perhaps to travel abroad, or to return to her family’s country house if she decided not to renew the tenants’ lease, or in a home of her own somewhere else. She was suddenly faced with possibilities and choices. She shook her head to free herself of the lingering thoughts. She could not decide such matters now. The five-year arrangement had barely begun. She would proceed a day at a time.
The next morning, they met together for breakfast. David was surprised to see her up so early.
“I am used to early rising,” she said as she joined him at the sideboard to fill her plate with the breakfast offerings. Mrs Morris, apparently of the mind that while breakfast was a simple matter for a master who was gone most of the day, it required more for a mistress who would be at home; she had expanded the menu. Not only had she prepared eggs and toast, but also bacon and sausage and baked apples.
“You must have made a very good impression on her,” David said when they returned to their seats. “She does not provide such opulence for me.”
“I am sure she would if she knew you wished it,” Theodosia said. The eggs were delightful, fluffy and well seasoned and she scooped a generous spoonful into her mouth, thinking of the meagre bowl of oatmeal that had been her morning fare in her lodgings.
“I thought to go shopping today if that meets with your approval?”
“You will need money,” David declared. “You will find money in the drawer of my desk in my study.
I have accounts at many of the local vendors and shops; simply let me know which places you visit today and I shall set up accounts there as well.”
“Would you protest if I decorate the house for Christmas?” she asked.
“Not at all. Quite the contrary. I would welcome it. It’s been rather drab, I’m afraid, in past years.”
“Mrs Morris and I toured the rooms. The guest rooms are not used, I take it?”
“I don’t have guests. But if your cousin and Arthur are to be invited, they would certainly be welcome.”
“The staff say that they have Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off. In that case, I wondered if we could go to Henton for Christmas Day dinner?”
“Yes, if you wish. I give the servants the two days off, along with a monetary gift. They are good servants and I have been lucky. If the Clemenses wish to invite us for Christmas, I am agreeable.
We should bring gifts, should we not? You may shop and choose whatever you think will be suitable. I am rather out of practice when it comes to giving gifts and so, I trust your judgment.”
He trusted her judgment and he trusted her with his income.
It was all very puzzling, because whilst David Overton wanted a wife, Theodosia could not discern exactly what it was that he wanted a wife for.
He did not want children, obviously, since he had made no effort to consummate the marriage. He did not seek to expand his own revenue, as Theodosia brought no dowry to the match. He did not intend to become the host of parties; his only interest in entertaining was to welcome British explorers to his home to dine and that suggestion had come about at Theodosia’s urging after she learned of his membership in the Royal Geographic Society.
The smiling, urbane man she had married was turning into an enigma. Would she solve the riddle of his nature within the five years of their marriage or would they part ways as civilly and easily as they had been joined?
SEVEN
Tabitha was quite eager to join her cousin in shopping for the house. She thought that the Marquess’s London house was a splendid place, but agreed with Theodosia that it lacked that identity which could make it invoke the special tone of the season.
When she suggested that perhaps new draperies would be in order, Theodosia was at first dubious.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the ones that are currently on the windows,” she said. “I am not at all sure that David wishes me to be profligate with his money.”
“Profligate, no, of course not. I tell you what . . . let us go to your rooms today and pack up your belongings so that your footman can see that they are brought to the house. While we are there, you may be inspired to consider what your new home is lacking.”
“You mean because my rooms are so desperately devoid of adornment?” Theodosia asked ruefully.
Tabitha dismissed this notion. “Of course not. But I believe it will be helpful.”
Theodosia was not so sure of that, but she acquiesced to her cousin’s suggestion and directed the driver to leave them at her lodgings until lunchtime, and then pick the ladies up.
Inside her rooms, the air was chilly. A fire had not been lit for days and the temperature reflected the prolonged absence of heat.
Tabitha drew her cloak closely around her shoulders. “I think we must move quickly,” she said, “else we shall surely catch a chill.”
“I’ll brew us a pot of tea,” Theodosia said after she had, with a feeling of extravagance, used up her allotment of firewood so that all the rooms would soon be comfortable. Now that she needn’t ration her fuel to last longer, the rooms quickly acquired a warmth that, combined with the tea, made it much easier fo
r the two cousins to work at their task.
Tabitha packed her books together neatly. Many of them had come from the family library and were precious to her because they had belonged to her parents or even her grandparents. Not only the family Bible, but her father’s volumes from his studies at Oxford and her grandfather’s books on the military campaigns of Julius Caesar were almost sacred in her eyes. They were remnants of another time, when her family thronged together for holidays and special occasions.
There was a painting of Adeline Patten, the ambitious and beautiful wife who had furthered her husband’s career with her brilliant hostessing during the reign of the Stuarts. She was an ancestress to both Tabitha and Theodosia and when they were younger and possessed of an impish spirit of mischief, they had wondered if she had been an intimate of Charles II, and if so, did that mean that there might be royal blood in their veins? How silly that all seemed now, Theodosia thought.
Still, the painting was another relic of more prosperous times when the Patten family had kept the company of kings. It would definitely be coming with her to her new home.
“What about your other belongings? Your dishes and kitchen items? Do you wish to take them?”
Theodosia hesitated. She did not need them now; Mrs Morris’ kitchen was more than adequately supplied with cooking implements.
“I will need them in five years,” she said.
“Really, Theodosia, you do not mean that you plan to keep these things in storage for five years and then move them to a new place when---when you and David are no longer together,” Tabitha said, a trifle shaken by this reminder that the marriage was not intended to be permanent. “You will have more than enough money to buy what you need when you decide where to live. I think you ought to leave these for the next tenant.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Theodosia conceded. “It would be silly to take them with me.”
“Exactly,” Tabitha said briskly as she moved to the bedlinens.