The butler got to his feet. ‘You shouldn’t be down here, m’lady. You should ring if you need anything.’
‘I did,’ Annabel said softly, her tone gentle. ‘From the dining room.’
‘I’m sorry,’ the man apologized. ‘The bell no longer works in that room.’ There was a pause before he added, reluctantly, Annabel thought, ‘Would you like me to bring you some breakfast?’ She saw the glances of the other three go to him and then back to her. They were all hanging on her reply as if it was of great importance.
‘No. It’s late now. I don’t want to disrupt your routine. But a cup of tea would be nice.’ She closed the door behind her, moved further into the room and pulled out a chair at the table.
Now their faces were shocked. ‘Oh, m’lady—’ the cook began whilst John Searby said, ‘I’ll bring it up for you—’
Annabel held up her hand to silence them both. ‘I don’t intend to interfere in any way with Lady Dorothea’s running of the household, but I believe I am free to go where I please, speak to whom I please. And I would like to get to know you all.’ She smiled round the table, but there were no answering smiles. They all looked ill at ease, as if they had been caught out doing something they should not. She glanced around the kitchen again. Not only was there no sign of breakfast, but there was also no sign of any food being prepared for luncheon. She sat down and looked into the cook’s face. She was thin, her greying hair covered by a mob cap. Her clothes hung loosely on her and her apron looked far too big for her.
‘Mr Searby,’ Annabel said quietly to the butler, though her gaze never left the cook’s troubled face. ‘Will you please introduce me to everyone?’
Reluctantly, John Searby said, ‘This is Mrs Nelly Parrish, the cook-cum-housekeeper. We – we don’t have a housekeeper at the moment, m’lady. Annie Taylor, the maid, and Luke Metcalfe. He does everything else that needs doing. And it’s just “Searby”, m’lady, Taylor and Metcalf, though we all give Mrs Parrish her courtesy title.’
Annabel glanced at him, though for the moment she said nothing. She would make up her own mind about how she addressed the staff – and certainly she would never refer to them as ‘servants’, not even in her own mind.
Annie placed a cup of black tea in front of her and said moodily, ‘There’s no milk – or sugar.’
Annabel looked up at the girl and smiled brightly. ‘Thank you, Annie.’ The girl blinked at being addressed by her Christian name, glanced at the butler but said nothing. Annabel turned her attention back to the cook. ‘Now,’ she said firmly, ‘will one of you please tell me what is going on here?’
The members of staff all glanced at each other again, furtively, fearfully. Now, as she looked around at them, Annabel could see that they were all thin and pasty-faced as if they were undernourished. Their clothes – just like John Searby’s – were shabby and ill fitting, hanging loosely on them.
They look hungry, she thought with a shock. But how can that be, living in a grand house like Fairfield Hall and on a large estate? Surely . . .? Annabel’s wandering thoughts were interrupted by the cook.
‘It’s not our place to say owt, m’lady,’ Nelly Parrish said in a low voice. ‘It’s been difficult of late, but we’ve been told that things will get better very soon now.’
Annabel knew that servants knew as much about each member of the family as the family knew themselves. Nothing was secret from them. And at this moment, they certainly knew more than she did.
‘How do you mean, “difficult”?’
‘We’re all starving, that’s what,’ Luke burst out and even though John Searby put a warning hand on the lad’s arm, Luke went on angrily, ‘There’s no food. Not for any of us. Not even for the mistress or the old lady, though they do try to feed the little lad.’ His tone softened as if none of them begrudged food being given to Theodore, but it hardened again as he went on, ‘His lordship brings a bit of food when he comes home’ – his lip curled disdainfully – ‘for them upstairs, but there’s little or nowt left for us. Scraps, that’s all we get and—’
‘That’s enough, Metcalf. More than enough. Remember your place.’
‘Oh aye, my place. My place, all right, and there’s no getting out of it. I ain’t the strength to walk to find work and who’d employ a scarecrow like me, who looks as if they haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. And I haven’t. None of us have. And there’s not a rabbit or a hare left on the estate to be caught. They’ve all been eaten by now, I reckon. And we daren’t be caught shooting owt. She’d have the law on us for poachin’. And as for picking owt growing wild, it’s all gone and the villagers even come up here at night and strip our orchard bare the minute anything’s ripe enough. It’s a wonder she hasn’t had the law on them an’ all—’
‘Hold your tongue, Metcalfe,’ John Searby snapped.
‘Whatever—?’ Annabel began, appalled at what the young man had said, but before she could say more they all heard a bell tinkle in the passageway and Annie got up.
‘I’d better see what they want.’
Annabel watched her go – a thin girl with dull fair hair and hazel eyes that never smiled. Her dress was stained and torn at the shoulder and her apron looked fit only for the ragbag.
‘Please, m’lady,’ Nelly Parrish was almost in tears now. ‘Don’t ask us no more. You’ll find out soon enough, but please – just don’t ask us.’
Annabel felt obliged to respect the woman’s request. Her questions were obviously distressing the cook. She sighed as she got up. ‘Very well. But I mean to find out. Thank you for the tea.’
She turned and left the kitchen, only to meet Annie running down the stairs.
‘Oh, m’lady, they’re looking for you. They’re in the morning room.’ She grasped Annabel’s arm. ‘Please – don’t tell ’em you’ve been down here talking to us. You’ll get us all into trouble.’
‘I won’t,’ Annabel promised. ‘By the way, my own maid, Jane, arrives today. I believe she is to share your bedroom. Lady Dorothea’s orders. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Will she be staying?’
‘Yes.’
Annie grimaced and muttered morosely, ‘Another mouth to feed!’ She released her grasp on Annabel’s arm, turned and hurried on towards the kitchen.
Annabel found her way to the morning room and as soon as she opened the door, a voice greeted her. ‘There you are! Where on earth have you been?’ James was standing by the fireplace, resplendent in his army uniform. Without waiting for a reply he went on, ‘I have to go into town to do a bit of business and then I shall be returning to my battalion. If there’s anything you need, just ask my sister. And now’ – he strode across the room – ‘I must be going.’ He kissed her lightly on the forehead. ‘I’ll be home again as soon as I can.’
‘Oh but, James – I need to talk to you. There’s something I don’t understand—’
‘I’m sorry, I must go.’ Without another word, he left the room, crossed the hall, opened the front door himself without waiting for the butler, and was gone.
‘And this is supposed to be our honeymoon,’ Annabel murmured, as she closed the door quietly.
Twelve
Annabel returned to the bedroom. The bed had not yet been made, so she straightened it herself and then went to the window that looked out over the front of the house. The unkempt lawn stretched to where the hill sloped down towards the village. She narrowed her eyes to squint against the sunlight of a day that promised to be fine and bright. She could see no movement anywhere. No one – as far as she could see – was walking up and down the village street. Beyond the houses, on the sloping hill opposite, there was no sign of activity in the fields. There was no one about anywhere. It was all very strange. She would love to find out more, but today she must wait for Jane to arrive and help her to settle in.
Jane arrived mid-afternoon, brought by Ambrose’s carriage with Billy driving it accompanied by another man, who would take back the brougham. It was impossible to say which
one of the two young women was the more pleased to see the other.
‘I’m so glad you asked me to come with you, Miss Annabel. I wouldn’t have stayed there without you.’
‘And I’m delighted you’ve come,’ Annabel said, hugging her. No doubt it wasn’t etiquette for a lady to hug her maid, but Annabel and Jane were more than mistress and servant. ‘But I should warn you,’ Annabel told her, lowering her voice, ‘there’s something very strange going on in this house and I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me everything you find out. It will be in the strictest confidence, of course. I went down to the kitchen this morning and found that there seems to be very little food. And there are no fires in any of the rooms. James went off this morning back to his battalion and I haven’t even seen his sister or his mother today.’
‘Who lives here, then, miss?’
Annabel ticked off the names as far as she knew them, whilst Billy unloaded the trunks and boxes. ‘There seems to be only four staff for a big house like this. And when I said you were coming, Annie said, “another mouth to feed”. She didn’t sound too pleased about it. She’s the only maid here. How she copes with all the work, I don’t know.’
‘Have you eaten, miss?’
Annabel pulled a face. ‘A cup of black tea for breakfast and a bowl of watery soup for luncheon with a piece of dry bread.’
‘Oh miss, I’ll go down to the village this minute and—’ Jane knew nothing of the rules of etiquette now that her mistress was a countess, but Annabel was happy for the girl to continue to address her as she always had done.
Annabel was shaking her head in response to Jane’s offer. ‘No use. When we passed through the village on our way here, there were no shops open. Everywhere is closed up. There must be people living in the village, but I saw no one – not even children playing in the street.’
‘To tell you the truth, miss, I didn’t notice. I was that excited about coming here, I was just looking up at the house. But if only I’d known, I could have brought some provisions with me. Whatever would your mother and father say if they knew?’
‘I don’t want them to know,’ Annabel said swiftly. ‘If I need help, I shall go to my grandparents. Their farm isn’t far away. Now, let’s go and find Annie.’
They went down to the kitchen to find Nelly Parrish standing at the range stirring a pan of soup on the hob. Annie, coming in from the scullery, looked Jane up and down with a surly expression.
‘Would you show us where Jane is to sleep, please, Annie?’ Annabel asked.
‘I’ll tek her up. No need for you to come, m’lady.’
‘I want to see the room,’ Annabel said in a firm tone that brooked no argument. The sullen frown deepened, but Annie said no more. She led the way out of the kitchen along the passage and up two flights of stairs until they came to the servants’ quarters on the first floor. Annie opened a door into a small room overlooking the front of the house furnished with two single iron bedsteads, a washstand, a wardrobe and a small chest of drawers.
‘She can have half the wardrobe and the two bottom drawers.’
‘Thank you, Annie.’ Annabel smiled sweetly at the girl, but was rewarded with a scowl. ‘I’ll leave you to settle in, Jane, and you can get to know each other.’
When the door was safely closed behind their mistress and they both heard her footsteps going along the passage back towards the stairs, Annie turned on Jane. ‘That’s your bed under the window. And don’t think you’ll get called “Jane” here. What’s your surname?’
‘Moffatt.’
‘So that’s what you’ll be called. I’ll have to go. Can you find your way back down to the kitchen?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Jane smiled at the girl, trying to be friendly, but Annie turned on her heel and left.
Jane glanced around the room. It was clean enough, she supposed, but so shabby. The counterpane on the bed was worn – there were holes in it – and when she turned back the covers the sheets were grey with constant wear and washing. The room was cold and dreary and nothing like the room she’d had at the Constantines’ home. Still, she comforted herself, she was with her beloved young mistress and she was nearer to her own folks too. She was sure she’d be allowed at least one day off a month to go to see them as she always had been. Jane unpacked her few belongings and stowed them away in the wardrobe and drawers that Annie had indicated and then found her way downstairs to the kitchen.
‘Is there anything I can do to help you, Mrs Parrish?’ she asked, approaching the woman, who was now sitting at the table. Nelly looked up, startled. Then she said bitterly, ‘There’s nowt to do, not unless you fancy dusting the morning room and lighting the fire in there for the old lady. She feels the cold, even in summer. That’s if,’ she added bitterly, ‘you can find owt to light it with. There might be a few logs left since Luke last went scrounging in the woods, but I doubt it. Poor lad hardly has the strength to go now.’
‘I’ll do whatever I can to help you and Annie,’ Jane said gently. Annabel was right in her assumption; there was something very strange in this household and very wrong too. And as Annabel had asked her, she’d do her best to find out what it was and tell her mistress. At that moment, John Searby appeared.
‘Who’s this?’ he asked sharply, nodding towards Jane.
‘The new Lady Fairfield’s maid. And,’ Nelly added with a note of bitterness, ‘she’s staying.’
The butler raised his eyebrows as the two of them exchanged a glance. ‘Oh well, I expect things will be better very soon now. No doubt the master left instructions in the town this morning.’
Mystified, Jane glanced at the cook, but Nelly was avoiding her questioning gaze.
‘So, you’d like me to clean the morning room, would you? Anywhere else?’
‘You’d better speak to Annie. I don’t want you treading on her toes and upsetting her.’
‘Where is she?’
‘Upstairs in Lady Elizabeth’s bedroom helping her get ready to come downstairs for dinner.’ Under her breath she added, ‘If you can call it that.’
Jane bit her lip. Four o’clock in the afternoon seemed very early to be getting ready for dinner and there were certainly no food preparations going on in the kitchen. Only the large pan of soup sitting on the range.
‘In that case, I’ll go and find Miss Annabel.’
Jane left the kitchen, pleased to escape from the dour atmosphere. She found Annabel in her bedroom on the first floor. ‘You’re right, miss. There is something very odd here. I don’t think your parents would like it if they knew.’
Annabel smiled wryly. ‘I think my father would want me to stay no matter what – for the sake of the title “Lady Fairfield”.’
‘Well, your grandfather certainly wouldn’t,’ Jane said firmly. ‘If things don’t improve, we’re going there.’
Annabel smiled at Jane’s fierceness, but she was heartened to feel that at least now she had someone on her side.
Dinner was the same watery soup that had been served at luncheon. There was no main course to follow but tonight there was a pudding of sorts – a selection of what looked like wild berries. Annabel recognized small strawberries, and blackberries that had been picked before they’d scarcely had time to ripen properly. The meal passed in total silence. Dorothea and Lady Fairfield hardly acknowledged Annabel’s presence at their table and there was no attempt at any conversation, polite or otherwise.
The following afternoon, Annabel walked across the yard to the rooms above the archway where she had learned that the estate bailiff, Ben Jackson, lived. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Annabel bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do. If only James were here or even if Dorothea would talk to her.
Instead of going back into the house, she crossed the courtyard and went through a gate on the left-hand side of the stables to the garden, hoping to find a kitchen plot, but the area that obviously once had been cultivated was neglected and overgrown. Some beautiful and colourful flowers w
ere doing their best to bloom, but were being choked by long grass and weeds.
Once again, the meagre dinner – the same as the previous day – passed in silence. The only time Dorothea addressed her was to say, ‘Mama and I go to church in the morning. Please be ready at ten-thirty when Jackson will take us in the pony and trap.’
So, Annabel thought, at least they still have a pony and trap. She guessed that the villagers had worked together to feed the one animal that was so vital in a rural area. ‘Very well,’ she said and went on, ‘Dorothea, might I have a word?’ But the woman had turned away to help her mother up from her chair and out of the room towards the stairs. ‘Goodnight,’ was the only word she said. The elderly lady didn’t speak at all.
‘What did you all have to eat downstairs?’ Annabel asked Jane later. The girl grimaced. ‘Just the same weak soup you had, but no bread for us.’
‘You must be starving. I know I am.’
‘It’s not half so bad for us as them poor folks down there. I don’t reckon they’ve eaten properly for weeks.’
‘What about a pudding?’
‘Some bits of fruit which were small and hard. The best had been sent upstairs, but even that’s all gone now.’
‘What is going on here, Jane?’
The maid shook her head. ‘I don’t know, miss, and they won’t say owt in front of me. They just keep saying they’ve been promised things’ll get better very soon. Oh, and the butler thought the master would have left “instructions” in the town yesterday.’
‘What sort of instructions and to whom?’
Jane shrugged. ‘They didn’t say.’
‘Well, I intend to get to the bottom of all this. I don’t expect I’ll be able to do much tomorrow, being Sunday, but, first thing on Monday morning, we’ll find out.’
Fairfield Hall Page 8
