Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society Series, #3)

by Swafford, Bethany

  “Indeed. But I wager my lady will not stand for it much longer,” Mrs. Horner said with a nod. “A few months ago, she might have let this pass, but not anymore.” She sent a sly smile towards me. “Perhaps you know why she has become so decisive?”

  Instead of answering, I sipped my tea. “I’m surprised Sir Horace hasn’t made more of an effort to make sure his wife has the respect she deserves. I mean no disrespect, of course.”

  “Of course. I’ve often thought it a shame that Sir Horace is away so often these past few years. I can only assume Lady Leith hasn’t mentioned how she has been treated, the poor dear.”

  Somehow, I didn’t think Celia would appreciate being called a ‘poor dear’ by the servants, even if it was kindly meant. “I only hope that her decisions are supported below stairs and not looked upon with resentment.”

  “The few who would have done so have already been sent on their way,” Mrs. Turner said with a calm smile. She lifted her tea cup. “As for any other dissenters, I have my own ways of handling them.”

  Her confidence lightened my spirits. There were some housekeepers who would take advantage of a mistress’ uncertainty. Mrs. Horner hadn’t done so. Was her loyalty to Clarendon or Sir Horace? She didn’t seem to have a qualm about the new Lady Leith taking charge of the house, so perhaps it was a dislike of the dowager?

  “How long has Mr. Stone been steward? Did he work in some other capacity on the estate?”

  Mrs. Horner frowned as she sat back in her chair. “I suppose it has been four years now. Mr. Stone was taught for a year by the former steward, before Mr. Geoffrey retired. He’s had plenty of time to learn his position and not make an insufferable nuisance of himself.”

  That wasn’t an answer to my question but I hesitated to press the issue. After what had happened, a little curiosity would be understandable, but to show too much interest would only result in scrutiny I did not desire. In any event, there was a light tap on the door, which then opened. “Excuse me, Mrs. Horner,” young Fanny said, her voice shaking. “Cook says there’s a problem with tonight’s menu.”

  “Never a dull moment, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Horner said with a sigh. She set aside her tea and stood up. “It seems our chat must end for now, Miss Nelson. Please feel free to make use of the room as long as you need.”

  The silence that followed the woman’s exit was refreshing. Breathing out, I put my own tea down and rose from my chair. I walked to the pianoforte that was against the wall. As I sat down on the bench, I ran my finger over the delicate keys.

  Music felt like my one consistent escape since I had embarked on my ambitious quest. In each house I had visited, there was an instrument somewhere in the house I was allowed to make use of. As playing had been my one comfort after my parent’s death, it was a constant I was glad of.

  Instead of searching through the music Mrs. Horner possessed, I closed my eyes and began to play from memory. My fingers moved across the keys with ease. I remained at the instrument for near an hour, recalling all the songs I used to play for my family.

  When I let my hands fall to my lap, I breathed out a sigh. The music had calmed my thoughts and renewed my confidence. I was going to see my quest through to the end, one way or another.

  FROM A WINDOW IN THE main part of the house, I watched Sir Henry Johnson and his wife arrive. He was an older man, and walked with a slight limp. As he escorted his wife up to the front door, I couldn’t help but think he did not look like a man who had conspired to kill my family and plotted against the country.

  Looks could be deceiving, however, as I knew very well.

  Where had my brother met Sir Johnson? The age difference made them unlikely companions. How long had they known each other? Had they been close or had their acquaintance been more of a passing one?

  My thoughts were interrupted by an accusing question, “What brings you to this part of the house? You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Miss Han’s sharp voice grated on my nerves. “I could say the same of you,” I said, turning to face her.

  She raised her chin as she drew closer. Her lilac perfume wafted into my face and was nearly suffocating with how thick it was. “As if I need to explain myself to you. You forget I have worked for the dowager for nigh on fifteen years. I am free to go where I please in this house. You have not earned that privilege.”

  “I am employed by the current mistress of the house. One might say I have more right in being beyond questioning.” Were we really comparing which of us were more important in the house? Hadn’t we already done this?

  “More right? You? A maid with little experience, hardly any skill, who has enthralled a mistress who does not know her own mind?” Miss Hanson gave a laugh. “Once Sir Horace returns—”

  “He will take a great interest in how his beloved wife has been treated, I am sure.” I wasn’t even ashamed to interrupt her. “If I had to guess, the disrespect shown to Lady Leith will not go unpunished. No matter where on the social ladder it comes from.”

  As I stepped around her, Miss Hanson said, “Perhaps if there was a proper mistress in charge, there wouldn’t be disrespect from those belowstairs.”

  How dare she put the blame on Celia when it was clear it was the dowager causing the trouble? “I’m sure when Sir Horace returns, we shall all learn how he views the matter.”

  “Oh, I believe he will be infuriated to learn you were prying in his private affairs and sneaking into his office. You shall be dismissed on the spot. What will you do without a reference from her ladyship, I wonder?” Her gleeful tone spoke to how much she desired her words to come true. “Will you have to seek a protector? Or watch time slip you by?”

  There were so many aspects to her little speech that infuriated me. How dare she make such insinuations? Mr. Stone had been spreading tales, which should not have come as a surprise? Instead of responding, as it would clearly be a waste of my time, I continued on my way. Trying not to seem as though I were in a hurry, I left the main part of the house.

  The nerve of the woman! Did the dowager really dislike Celia so much she had influenced Miss Hanson’s view? It was the only reason I could think of behind the woman’s venomous remarks. “She is in need of being brought down a few pegs as much as Mr. Stone,” I muttered under my breath.

  As I went down the narrow staircase, I encountered Fanny coming up. “What’s happened, Miss Nelson?” she asked immediately. Her forehead creased with concern. “Has a mistake been made in the rooms?”

  “What? Oh, no. Nothing of the sort, I assure you,” I said swiftly. As the girl didn’t look appeased, I explained, “Miss Hanson has set me on edge, nothing more.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Who is not on edge because of Miss Hanson? If she gets caught snooping around the maids’ rooms again, Mrs. Horner is going to give her what-for. Even if she is Lady Anne’s personal servant.”

  A chill went down my back. “She’s done what?”

  Clearly delighted to impart news and in no hurry to continue her work, Fanny gave an emphatic nod. “Twice she has been caught coming out of rooms that were not her own. Rooms she had no business being in. One of them was the one I share with Mary and Sally. I demanded to know what she thought she was doing, but she said I ought to mind my place. But I went straight to Mrs. Horner.”

  “Which other room was she in?”

  “Oh, the other girls’ room,” Fanny said dismissively. “Though Minnie swears she thought Miss Hanson was trying your door earlier today when Mrs. Horner questioned her. That’s all I know.”

  Miss Hanson’s odd statement about time came back to me. I kept my father’s watch on my little dressing table. Could she have found another key and let herself in my room?

  “Miss Nelson? Are you well? You look pale.”

  Letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, I focused on her. “Has her ladyship been informed about this?”

  Fanny shook her head. “Mrs. Horner thought her ladyship had enough to worry about wit
hout below stairs being in an uproar. After all, what can be done? It’s not like the old bat is going anywhere.” Her expression took on defiance as she uttered the less than flattering phrase.

  “True enough. Thank you for telling me.” It was true Miss Hanson would be in the house as long as the dowager was in residence. However, there were ways to make a person wish they were elsewhere. The younger Burnham girls had been masters of that particular skill and I just might have to try it myself.

  The girl tilted her head. “What are you planning, miss?”

  I let out a laugh. “What makes you think I’m planning something?”

  She snorted and shook her head. “I have six siblings, miss. I’ve seen less devious looks from my brothers when they have plans to torment us girls.”

  “Well, I am not planning anything.” For the moment, at least, that was the truth. “I was remembering one of my former employer’s had two daughters who delighted in mischief. I do wonder how they might have handled someone such as Miss Hanson.”

  A peculiar smile twisted Fanny’s lips. “If they were anything like my brothers, I can imagine the chaos they must have created.” She bobbed a curtsy and hurried around me to continue her tasks.

  I waited until she left the staircase and then went up myself. If Miss Hanson had been in my room, had she found any of the items I had hidden? Who knew what she would do with those letters if she had seen them. Would she guess at their significance or ignore them for something she understood?

  My hand trembled as I unlocked the door to my room. Even before I crossed the threshold, I breathed in the faint smell of lilac. The memory of Miss Hanson’s cloying perfume came back. I didn’t have to go another step to know that the impertinent woman had trespassed into my room.

  On the dressing table, Father’s watch was now closed where I was certain I had left it open earlier. It was also in the centre of the table instead of to the side. If Miss Hanson had intended her invasion to go unnoticed, she had failed. Did she expect me to do nothing about this offense?

  “Fool. Fool. Fool!” I wasn’t sure whether it was myself who was the fool or Miss Hanson.

  By my bed, the book of Shakespeare’s sonnets rested on the table. I took a deep breath as I picked it up. Dread coiled in my stomach when my quick look through the pages resulted in no folded slip of paper.

  “No!”

  Miss Hanson had taken the cipher. What would she do with it? Was she going to give it to her mistress, or, worse yet, did she intend to hand it to Mr. Stone? Why had she taken it? Just to cause mischief? Did it mean something to her or was it simply because I had it that had her interest?

  Whatever the reason, Lady Leith had to be informed. Somehow, we had to salvage the situation before the worst happened.

  Chapter Eleven

  Of course, I couldn’t summon Lady Leith with a written message to come to the dressing room. That would have drawn unnecessary attention to us both. At the same time, I couldn’t wait for her to come in to dress before dinner. It may have been already too late to keep Miss Hanson from destroying everything, but I had to try.

  There was, after all, more than one way to convey a message to someone.

  My heartbeat was loud and fast in my ears as I hurried to Lady Leith’s dressing room. It was as I had left it only a few hours before. She was wearing a pale green gown. From her wardrobe, I pulled a cashmere shawl that had a similar green in the pattern.

  It would have to do.

  Shawl in hand, I left the dressing room. Keeping to the main hallway, I went straight to the drawing room. When I was a few yards from the open door, I could hear the low chatter of voices.

  “I’m sorry you missed the gentlemen, Sir Henry,” Lady Leith was saying, her voice gracious and sincere. “I’m sure they will return soon. In the meantime, I hope we can endeavour to keep you entertained despite our gossip.”

  I couldn’t hear the gentleman’s low response but whatever it was made Lady Leith laugh. If I had not been focused on the loss of the cipher my brother had been in possession of, I might have been pleased to hear my new friend and employer so happy. She deserved it after the stress she had been under as of late.

  And here I was about to ruin the moment of happiness. I took a deep breath and slipped through the doorway. Keeping to the edge of the room, I allowed my gaze to move around the gathered company.

  The only gentleman in the room was Sir Henry, making him stand out among the ladies. His black hair was greying and his face had many lines on it. The expression on his face was kind, but his eyes had a sharp intelligence in them that reminded me of Mr. Harper.

  “Lady Leith, does that creature wish something?” one of the young ladies asked, her tone condescending. She was seated next to the dowager, so I assumed it was Miss Reynolds.

  Lady Leith’s eyes flicked my way. Reminding myself to keep my eyes demurely down, I approached. “I brought you your shawl, your ladyship,” I murmured, thankful my voice was steady.

  As she took the cloth from me, the faintest of frowns appeared on Celia’s forehead. “I was wondering where I had left that,” she said as if it were the most natural thing I should be there. “Thank you, Nelson.”

  I curtsied and backed to the door. “You didn’t send for a shawl,” the same young lady said, her tone sharp.

  “A superior maid is aware of what is needed without a word being said, Miss Reynolds,” Lady Leith said calmly. She draped the shawl around her shoulders. “One day I am sure you will understand.”

  Outside the room, I breathed out. I could only hope Lady Leith had understood I needed to speak to her as soon as possible. From her words, I was certain she at least recognized that something had happened. We both knew all too well that a message could be sent in a variety of ways.

  “My lady, you appear distressed,” I heard Sir Henry say, his tone tinged with concern.

  Had my bold move ben too much? “Oh, I had the sudden thought that it has been five years since a dear friend passed away. You remember Mr. Sinclair, do you not?” Lady Leith said a moment later. “Mr. Jonathan Sinclair.”

  “Indeed I do. Such a loss.”

  Oh, dear. Did she think I had appeared to prompt her to interrogate the man? I wished I could remain at the door and eavesdrop, but it would be impossible. I hoped Lady Leith would come to me soon. Hiding my clenched, shaking hands against my skirt, I began to walk back to the dressing room.

  NO MORE THAN A HALF hour later, Lady Leith entered. “I have torn my hem, Nelson,” she said with a raised voice. She closed the door behind her and her expression shifted to one of concern. “Juliet, what has happened? I have never seen you look so pale.”

  “The cipher is gone.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? How? You keep your door locked, do you not?”

  “I do, but there was another key. My father’s watch had been moved. I could smell perfume as soon as I stepped into my room. When I opened the book of sonnets where I kept the cipher , it was gone.” Habit made me go to the wardrobe to find a replacement gown for her. We had a pretence to maintain.

  Lady Leith groaned. “Who would have done such a thing?”

  “I am certain it was Miss Hanson. Fanny told me the dowager’s maid has been poking about the maids’ rooms, no doubt making sure which was mine,” I said. Selecting a pale yellow gown, I held it up for her approval. “She also said something to me earlier, which made me uneasy.”

  She gave a nod without giving the gown more than a brief glance. “What did she say?”

  As I helped her out of her dress, I explained how Miss Hanson had approached me and the things she had said. I’d momentarily considered sparing Lady Leith from the maid’s ruder comments, but I was too angry to censor myself. It was no doubt best that she knew what we were dealing with.

  “This is outside of enough,” Lady Leith said, her eyes sparking with anger. “I shall have the Dowager House opened up immediately. I won’t even ask the dowager whether she is ready for the change. It shall be
presented as inevitable.”

  “How will we get the cipher back?” I was more than ready to have the dowager and her maid far from us, but the cipher was irreplaceable.

  “As you said, there are only two people Miss Hanson could have given the cipher,” Lady Leith said as I buttoned up the back of the yellow dress. “I’m sure I can think of a way to get both of them to return the cipher.”

  “How?” Both the dowager and Mr. Stone had shown they were not reasonable when it came to dealing with Celia.

  “At dinner, I will simply announce that I left a puzzle in one of the books and now it is missing.”

  Could such a simple approach really work? “You think whoever has it will give it up, just like that?”

  “At the very least, Mr. Stone will know the cipher was not of your doing even though it was found in your room.” Lady Leith caught my hand. “When my husband returns, I’m going to insist Mr. Stone be replaced or be sent to Horace’s small estate in the north. He is causing unnecessary trouble.”

  Her determination made me smile. “The mistress has made her decision.”

  “I will not allow my children to be raised in an environment where I am not respected as the mistress of the house,” she said fiercely.

  My suspicions were true then. “You’re sure?”

  A becoming blush spread across her cheeks. “I believe so. I have not said anything until I could be sure. I’d wished my husband would be the first to hear the news.”

  “Well, I’m sure a servant like myself doesn’t really count.” This was why she was so determined to prove her husband was not a traitor. The future of her unborn child was at stake, not to mention what would happen to the estate if the crown became involved. Would she lose Clarendon?

  “Oh, Sir Henry does remember your brother,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I haven’t been able to question him further. I’m not exactly sure what I intend to ask, but I refuse to allow this opportunity to pass by.”