by Sarah Winn
“Sorry about that, Mr. Moore. I wasn’t sure myself.”
Lamp light suddenly illuminated the hall and the housekeeper appeared in the doorway. Her head kept turning as she shifted her gaze from Ellen to Gerald. He approached them with a valise in his one hand. “Let’s get inside, Ellen. Surely Mrs. Moore can come up with something for our supper.”
Mrs. Moore frowned at Ellen and her son. Thinking the woman was angry over having to prepare for unexpected guests, Ellen tried to lighten her mood by saying, “We don’t need much after the grand lunch we had at Firthley Hall.”
Mrs. Moore moved back so they could enter. Mr. Moore came behind them with both arms full of luggage. “Where do you want me to put the lady’s bags, Captain?”
“We’re not prepared for guests,” Mrs. Moore grumbled.
Gerald looked around, waved at a thin woman standing in the shadows at the far end of the hallway. When she had reluctantly joined their little group, Gerald said, “You all met Mrs. Coyler when she was here before, but now she’s Mrs. Osborne, my wife. I know you will do whatever you can to make her and Toby feel at home here.”
“You’re married!” Mrs. Moore said in obvious astonishment.
Mr. Moore said, “Congratulations, Captain.”
The thin woman, Ellen couldn’t remember her name, smiled and nodded in a shy, but pleasant manner.
The Captain turned directly toward Mr. Moore and said, “Put any luggage you don’t recognize in the bedroom across the hall from mine. We’ll sort it out ourselves.”
Mrs. Moore turned toward the back of the house, the maid stepped forward to take some of the smaller pieces of luggage and followed Mr. Moore up the stairs. Gerald came up beside Ellen, and waved his hand about. “The downstairs is mostly a formal parlor and dining rooms,” he pointed at the room he and Ellen had first talked in. “On the other side of the entry hall, there’s a smaller parlor and a bedroom my Aunt Rachel used during her last years, so she wouldn’t have to climb stairs. I haven’t decided what to do with that space yet.”
He moved to the end of the entry hallway and into a narrower hall that ran through the center of the house. By now Toby had become interested in his new surroundings and pulled Ellen’s hand so she had no choice but to follow the captain who gestured to the far side of the hallway. “The dining rooms are on the other side of this hall. We hardly ever use the big one. In fact, I take most of my meals in the dining room in the servant’s quarters. Since I’ve had to cut the staff, it makes things easier. But we can change to the breakfast room at the end of this hall if you’d like.”
He pointed toward the far end of the hallway. “The library is on the other side. I have my desk and business papers there, but most of my work is down at the stables, so feel free to use the room whenever you like. The hallway down at the end of this hall leads to the back wing. The kitchen and servant’s quarters are there.”
He ushered them back toward the stairs in the front entry hall. “There are six bedrooms and a bathing room upstairs. Shall we go see that now?”
Ellen nodded and tried to smile pleasantly, but this short tour had awakened her to the fact that this house was far too large for three servants—two of them gray-haired—to properly care for. As they started up the stairs, the dust on the bannisters reconfirmed, her observations. She would have little difficulty finding ways to contribute to this household.
Two doors were rather close together at the top of the stairs. Gerald waved at one, “That’s the linen closet.” He opened the other door and stepped inside. “And this is the bathing room.” Ellen took a step inside that room. The facilities consisted of a porcelain-lined tub surrounded by wooden cabinetry. The trim around the commode chair matched that of the tub, but the lack of an overhead tank clearly showed it was not one of the flushing kind that had become so popular in London since The Great Exhibition.
Her disappointment must have shown on her face, for Gerald pointed at the tub and said, “There’s a drain, so we don’t have to haul water down as well as up. My uncle tried to keep the place up-to-date, but after he died nothing much was done.”
“It’s nice,” she said, not wanting to appear critical of his home. And who was she to complain? The only time she’d lived in a house anywhere near this size, she’d been living on her uncle’s charity.
Gerald led the way out of the bathing room. As he turned left, he waved at the other end of the hallway. “These rooms are not being used. I put the boarding students in them—when I had any. My bedroom is at this end of the hall. I thought you might like the room across from me—” Mr. Moore came into view, moving about in a stack of luggage littering the hallway, and Gerald quickly added, “—for Toby.”
Ellen was reminded of the pesky problem their marital arrangement and servants’ curiosity would surely create. She opened a door across the hallway and saw a fairly large room with a high four-poster against one wall. “This room looks nice.”
Mr. Moore came into the hallway. “That bed’s way too high for the tyke to be climbing in and out of.”
“I believe there’s a trundle under it,” Gerald said. “Toby can use that until we get something better moved in here.”
“But, Captain, what about the rooms at the other end of the hall?” Mr. Moore asked. “They’re filled with smaller beds.”
“Oh, no,” Ellen hastily said, “Toby’s not used to sleeping alone. We’ll have a little period of adjustment to go through here.”
Mr. Moore nodded as though he understood the problem, but then he said, “If you’ll come and show me what’s the boy’s I’ll bring it over.”
“There’s no need to crowd the Captain’s room with my things, just bring all of our luggage over here. I can transfer whatever I need as I need it.”
Mr. Moore frowned at that explanation, but shrugged his shoulders and turned to fetch the luggage. Gerald gave her a small smile and returned to his room. Toby ran over to the windows of his new bedroom that looked out over the backyard and into shaded woods. As Mr. Moore brought her luggage into the room, he said, “I’ll send Alice up to make the tyke’s bed.”
Ellen sighed in resignation as she realized she would have to explain to the maid that the big bed as well as the trundle needed to be made.
She had nearly finished unpacking Toby’s clothes, before the maid arrived with an armload of linens. “Sorry it took me so long, ma’am, but I’m near run off my feet. I’m expected to do all the cleaning, and help in the kitchen too.”
“Well, now that I’m here, I’ll take over some of your work,” Ellen said.
The maid looked skeptical, and Ellen rushed to help her pull the trundle from under the large bed. “Ah—I’ll also need sheets for the large bed.”
Alice sighed. “I’ll have to go downstairs and get them. We don’t keep many linens up here anymore.”
* * * *
After seeing Ellen busy unpacking, Gerald had returned to his room, slipped off of his jacket, changed into his work boots, and headed for the stables, eager to see how the horses were coming along with their training. Being able to sell those horses at a profit was the last hope he had of hanging onto this estate.
His uncle had left his aunt the estate and enough government bonds so that she could live comfortably off the interest. She in turn had left the estate to Gerald, but had divided the bonds among relatives and servants so that he could just pay the yearly taxes from his share of the interest. He had spent the money he got from selling his commission on refurbishing the stables and buying horses. If he didn’t soon begin to turn a profit on this place, his only option would be to sell the estate or cash in the bonds.
And now he had a wife and child to provide for, in addition to the people working on the estate.
As he entered the dark cavern of the main stable building, he heard Phantom whinny and then saw the horse’s head jut out over the half-door of his stall. Evidently the animal had recognized Gerald’s footsteps. Glad he had remembered to pick up an apple out
of the bin in the pantry, Gerald held the fruit out and Phantom pulled his lips back and chomped down on the apple with his large teeth. When the apple was gone, Gerald rubbed the horse’s ears in a way he knew Phantom liked and said, “Did you miss me, old fellow?”
The horse whinnied again. If Gerald had nothing else to be grateful for, he could at least thank God that he had left Phantom here when he went to the Crimea. Many officers had taken their own horses and few of those animals had come back, especially those in the Light Brigade.
Footsteps crunched from the direction of the paddock and Gerald turned to see the robust figure of Mr. Samuels approaching. “So, you’re back,” the stable master said.
“Yes, came in on the afternoon train.”
The wrinkles in Mr. Sam’s forehead grew deeper. “What happened to the buggy and horse you left here in?”
“One of the earl’s men will bring it back. Probably tomorrow.”
“You get so soft living the good life that you couldn’t bring it back yourself?”
Gerald couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “The earl decided it would be easier on the woman and child I was traveling with to come by train.”
Mr. Sam’s eyes opened widely. “Do you mean that sweet-looking Mrs. Coyler is still with you?”
“Yes, but she’s Mrs. Osborne now.”
Mr. Sam’s mouth dropped open, and it was several seconds before he could say, “Well, ain’t you the fast operator?”
“You know the old saying, ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’”
“I think something else must have been hot, too.”
Gerald decided it was time to change the subject. “How are the horses coming along?”
“Good! Good! They’re all broken to bit and saddle, and most of them will change gaits with a little prodding.”
“That is good news,” Gerald said. “Now that I’m back we can start teaching them to jump.”
Mr. Sam shook his head. “I can’t help you much with that part of the training.”
“Jim and I can do the actual jumping, but you’ll help by observing. An old cavalry man like you can spot what we’re doing wrong.”
Tully, who had worked in the stable on this estate for at least twenty years, came into the building just then, carrying a bucket of oats. “Come over here, Tully,” Mr. Sam called, “and congratulate the boss man. He just got married.”
“What?” Tully set the bucket down, and as he hurried toward them, he wiped his hand on his britches leg and then stuck it toward Gerald. “Well, congratulations,” he said. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
As Gerald shook the man’s hand, Mr. Sam said, “It’s that pretty little lady he left here with, not a week ago.”
Tully nodded. “I’m not surprised. I thought there was something special going on between those two.”
Gerald smiled and silently wished Tully’s intuition was correct. As soon as he could, he changed the subject back to conditions in the stable. He checked on the stores, making sure there were enough oats left in the storage bins to take care of the horses needs for a few weeks.
A clatter of hooves announced that Jim, the youngest worker in the stables, was bringing the new horses back from the pasture. All the men pitched in to get them into stalls and see there was plenty of feed in their boxes. As they worked Jim gave a report on each horse, which ones were the easiest to train and which the most likely to balk. Gerald congratulated himself for hiring Jim, a local fellow with no previous experience with horses, except what he had acquired while working on his father’s farm. He was turning into a valuable employee. If only he could learn to take horses over jumps as well as he had learned general riding skills, he would be invaluable. Both Mr. Sam and Tully were too old for that work, and Gerald wasn’t entirely sure of his own ability to bully a reluctant horse over an obstacle.
When the horses were settled for the night, Jim left for his father’s home, and Tully and Mr. Sam walked with Gerald back to the house and their supper. As they did every night, the men washed up by a bench set up near the outdoor pump. Gerald had made it a habit to take his meals with the help in the dining room in the back of the house, and it wasn’t until he had entered that room, that he remembered, he was no longer alone.
Seeing Alice setting the table, he asked, “Have Ellen and Toby eaten yet?”
“The boy has,” she replied, “but Mrs. Osborne is waiting to eat with you in the breakfast room.”
He nodded at Alice and then told the men, “You’ll have to eat without me tonight.”
Mr. Sam smiled so widely that the droopy ends of his mustache pointed straight out. “We understand completely, Captain.”
“Yeah,” Tully said. “I’d desert you two in a minute for the company of a pretty lady.”
Gerald left the room and hurried up the hallway and into the main part of the house. The door to the breakfast room was open. Light was coming from it and the soft sound of…humming.
He stopped in the doorway and stared in wonder at the usually drab little dining room. Ellen was bending over the table so that the brace of candles standing on it flickered light over her heart-shaped face, giving her an almost other-worldly look as she arranged green stalks topped with yellow flowers in one of his aunt’s ceramic vases.
She looked up. “Oh, hello. I hope you don’t mind me choosing this room for our first meal together in your home, but I thought it silly for just the two of us to sit in the larger room.”
“No, this is very nice.” He suddenly wished he had his jacket on, but didn’t want to make Ellen wait for him to retrieve it. “Where did you find those flowers?”
“I took Toby for a walk earlier, down the road behind the house. Found these in one of the few clearings. I think they look like daisies, except they’re all yellow.”
“I believe Aunt Rachel called them golden samphire. She was very fond of wild flowers, even transplanted them from other places to have them in her woods.”
“So—the natural setting is on purpose?”
“Yes, she said she’d always dreamed of living in the deep woods of long ago. That’s why things are so overgrown. It has not turned out to be a good place to establish a horse farm, however.”
As she began to remove the covers from dishes on the sideboard and transfer them to the table, she asked, “Is there no place for the horses to roam?”
“The land is not so heavily wooded beyond the stable. We’ve cleared a good-sized pasture there, but we really need more space for riding trails.” As she placed the last dish on the table and moved to her chair, he remembered his manners and rushed to pull the chair out with his hand and then carefully nudge it back with one knee, as she sat.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He sat in the other chair, and as he surveyed the scene before him: the flickering candles, the golden flowers, and the sweet expression on Ellen’s face; he couldn’t help but think the scene romantic. Had she deliberately made it so?
“Was everything all right at the stables?” she asked.
Realizing she was trying to make polite conversation, he replied, “Things have actually gone well while I was away. My stable master, Mr. Samuels, is an old cavalry man, but his specialty is teaching riding, so I wasn’t sure how he’d adjust to training horses, but he seems to be taking to it.”
They passed the dishes of Mrs. Moore’s typical cooking—roasted mutton, boiled potatoes and stewed cabbage—back and forth. Gerald had grown accustomed to the woman’s bland cooking, but he wondered what Ellen must be thinking, especially after the week they had just spent in homes where the meals were served in courses by liveried servants. But she showed no signs of being repelled. Her years of following the drum as a military wife had probably made her more accepting of conditions that weren’t always ideal.
He suddenly wanted to know more about her life. “Where did you live while you and Philip were married?”
“Fortunately, he was stationed in England up until the war started, so I was able t
o lodge near his bases.”
“Was having to move frequently hard on you?”
“I grew up moving from to place until my father finally got on with the London Symphony, so it was nothing new to me. Of course, having to be entirely on my own after Philip went overseas was difficult. I could have gone to live with Aunt Sarah, but she had been so disapproving of my marriage that I didn’t want to give her more opportunity to tell me what a mistake I had made by marrying Philip.”
“Why didn’t she like Philip?”
“Oh, she barely knew him. She just wanted me to marry up as she had. First my mother had married a musician and then I a soldier; she was disappointed in both of us and let us know it.”
“Who did she marry?”
“A wholesale butcher.”
Gerald’s fork clattered against his plate. “That doesn’t sound like a great catch.”
“Uncle Harry inherited a string of small butcher shops and turned them into a central slaughter yard that supplied beef and mutton to the entire city of Birmingham and surrounding communities. He made a surprising amount of money.”
Gerald couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “It never would have occurred to me that such a thing was possible. Guess that’s why I’ll never be much of a businessman.”
“Uncle Harry is into meat; you’re into horses. I’m sure your venture here will succeed.”
Gerald wished he could share her confidence. “Oh, well, if things don’t work out this time, maybe I can sell my horses to your uncle.”
Ellen stared at him with a shocked expression. “Uncle Harry doesn’t sell horse meat!”
Gerald laughed out loud. “I’m joking, Ellen. I’m sure your uncle is quite reputable.”
She relaxed and smiled. “Well, people do accuse butchers of selling meat so tough that it must have come from horses.”
