Clarissa and the Poor Relations

by Alicia Cameron

  Mr Elfoy explained their errand and asked if Muggins could get some men together to help in the gardens.

  ‘I darsay, sir.’

  `Clarissa bent forward in her saddle and held out her hand. ‘Thank you Mr Muggins, it would be very good of you,’ she said with her frank smile.

  Muggins wiped his hand on his breeches before he shook it, somewhat reluctantly.

  Mr Elfoy looked at the barn. ‘You have been fixing the barn after all, I see Muggins.’ he exclaimed.

  Muggins drew himself up. ‘I have Mr Elfoy, sir. I took the stone from the old Martin’s farm, like I told you I would, even if I didn’t have permission of the late Lord. The beasts cannot await permission.’ He pronounced these words with an air of defiance looking latterly at Clarissa.

  Elfoy was about to speak, but Clarissa interrupted.

  ‘How sensible, Mr Muggins. I need just such a man who knows how to act on his own initiative to see to the garden. However, you must have much to do on the farm and you must not neglect it on my behalf.’

  Ah, how good she is with these people, thought Oriana. How quickly she learns. She exchanged warm looks of approval with Elfoy.

  ‘As to that ma’am, ‘twould be a pleasure. My father would have been taken bad to see the grounds as they are.’ He hesitated and looked at Clarissa with a flushed countenance, ‘I should not have taken the stone, for it rightly belongs to you, ma’am. My mother tells me I’m not a patient man. Per’aps you would like to step down and meet her, miss. She’d be much honoured.’

  The party dismounted and met Mrs Muggins, a round and cheery lady who regaled them with homemade scones and her own jam made only last year. As they sat in the cosy cottage Clarissa heard tales of her mother’s childhood when Mrs Muggins had been a maid in the great house.

  At last they were able to leave and as they rode towards the house, Clarissa, who had been unusually silent suddenly pulled up her horse and exclaimed, ‘I have it. Mr Elfoy, I have it. Our encounter with Muggins has given me the answer to all of our problems.’

  Oriana and Elfoy pulled up and looked at her in astonishment.

  ‘The West Wing.’

  Oriana said, ‘I thought, my dear Clarissa, you had agreed with Mr Elfoy that the cost of repairing the West Wing is not to be thought of. I did not know that you had any desire to do so.’

  ‘Of course I do not.’ said Clarissa impatiently; ‘We must sacrifice the West Wing entirely. It is of no use to me, but the stone and slate and timber might do proper repairs to cottages on the estate. It could do real good, instead of sitting uselessly at the edge of the house.’

  Mr Elfoy’s eyes lit up. Suddenly he could see a fast and reasonably inexpensive way to make the improvements his agent’s heart desired. ‘We could use the soldiers that have returned from the war to do the work. Many are wounded, but…No. Consider, Miss Clarissa. The stone was imported by your grandfather at great cost - you would reduce the size of a great house…’

  Clarissa interrupted, her eyes blazing excitement. She turned to Oriana. ‘Do you believe it could be done?’

  Oriana considered. In the last days she and Clarissa had seen hardship on the estate that had touched their compassionate souls: so much needing done, but with so little funds to do it. Once acting as Mistress of her father’s estate, she had been shocked to see what had been allowed to happen here to the tenants all for the want of a little management. Though they could make do for the next year or so, she had felt all the evils for the tenants that having an impoverished mistress might bestow and had even thought of advising a sale to allay their suffering. Now, however, there was a real hope. ‘I believe it could.’

  The three galloped to the house talking of labour and architects and feeling, at last, that they might do something really fine for Clarissa’s dependants.

  When Oriana took a breath, she fell a little behind to observe the other two laughing and planning, Tristram Elfoy lit up with a passion to put wrongs right and the practical shrewdness to do so. She saw how Clarissa hung on his words and garnered his expertise asking questions and matching him for enthusiasm. It was so rare to find a man share thoughts and plans so easily with a woman and Oriana wondered sadly if it was only his position as an employee that allowed this equality of ideas to bloom. Would he allow his wife to offer ideas as an equal? Something of Mr Elfoy’s joy and warmth as he looked at Clarissa suddenly dispelled her cynicism.

  Lord Staines had been delayed in paying his call Clarissa by the arrival of unexpected guests. The Earl of Grandiston and the Honourable Charles Booth, to be precise. Staines and Booth had been at school together (though Staines had been the elder) and Grandiston was a man far too important in society not to be welcomed warmly to any home. They announced themselves to be passing from Grandiston’s home further north on their way to London. Naturally, they were invited to stay and later to prolong their visit with some shooting and fishing on Lord Staines tidy estate. Much to his surprise, both invitations were accepted and Staines imported this to his superior hospitality, as he confided to his mother.

  His mother, resplendent today in a yellow gown and pink shawl, agreed with him faintly, ‘Very likely, my dear. They do seem set to make a rather longer visit than I thought, though. Lord Grandiston has no height of manner, has he? He may be able to do you a great deal of good you know, with his relationship to the Royal Princes.’

  ‘Indeed, by his reputation for pride he is much maligned. He has offered to introduce me at his club.’

  However much Lady Staines may abhor gambling for large stakes she knew what a social coup it was for her son to be introduced to Waiters by someone of Grandiston’s standing. ‘My dear boy, you will be made socially. I daresay everyone will receive us.’ She bustled off to see cook about dinner feeling jubilant but still with a nagging doubt as to their good fortune. Why should so great a man be at his leisure here when he had so little in common with her rather less brilliant son.

  She received an inkling at dinner when she prattled on to cover her distress at the dreadful entrée (which had spoiled under the cook’s anxiety about having to produce so many elegant dinners)

  ‘We have a new neighbour at the Great House, gentlemen. A Miss Thorne is come into the estate after the sad death, so young, of her cousin the Viscount. I believe that she has taken up residence there but we have not yet visited, have we my dear boy?’

  Her son looked displeased. ‘I do not believe that she is to be our neighbour. Indeed, her brother as good as sold the land to me. I consider it quite settled.’

  Grandiston drawled, ‘I do not believe her brother is the owner, or would not he have come into the property?’

  Lady Staines was sometimes a silly woman but she had a woman’s intuitions. Distinctly, under the drawl, she heard an interest in Grandiston’s voice.

  ‘No,’ said her son, ‘a half-brother, I believe. Not a noble family but quite respectable. As her nearest male relation, he naturally would be the one to guide her in what she must do. Her land would round mine off very nicely. It is my ambition to make Staines a Great Estate.’

  ‘A worthy ambition, my dear fellow, you should lose no time in visiting the young lady. Perhaps we could accompany you on the morrow.’

  ‘Are you acquainted with Miss Thorne, Lord Grandiston?’

  ‘No indeed, Lady Staines, but I am always ready to make new acquaintance. It intrigues me, too, to meet a young lady who sets herself against her brother’s wishes.’

  Mr Booth, hearing the subtext in this, regarding Miss Petersham, gave a shout of laughter but upon the Earl’s eye being cast his way, he controlled himself and apologized that his mind had wandered. Lady Staines watched and wondered.

  Though they rode over the next day, they were denied entry by the imperturbable Sullivan. Lord Staines left his card and inquired to a morning when he might find the young lady at home.

  ‘As to that, sir, I could not say. Miss Thorne is very much engaged with estate business at the moment.’

>   Staines was flustered whilst Grandiston admired the butler’s style. He had just such an old retainer on his own estate.

  ‘Estate business. Your mistress cannot mean to stay.’

  Sullivan looked down his nose in a manner that suggested that Staines was of questionable respectability. He regally ignored the intrusive question and paused meaningfully then said, ‘I will deliver your card to my mistress, sir’

  ‘What a fine specimen of a butler.’ declared Booth with great glee. ‘Sent us about our business and no mistake. No disreputable characters will storm this castle. Wouldn’t wager you buying this pile, Staines, she’s settling in. Mark my words, sir, settling in.’

  Oh, how I love you, Charles, thought Grandiston observing his Lordship’s affronted face. Pomposity withers in your presence.

  His eyes had taken in the well-polished floor behind Sullivan and the signs of work beginning in the garden. The ladies were indeed settling in, and though Grandiston did not yet know if this was to his advantage, the landlord in him applauded their actions. Had they bitten off more than they could chew, however? Dawdling behind the rest, he contrived to ask a farm labourer the name and direction of the estate’s agent.

  Next day, Lord Staines received a perfectly civil note from Clarissa regretting that the house was not yet in a fit state to receive visitors and that she herself was too busy with important estate matters to call as yet. She thanked him for his visit and hoped he would be at home to renew it after, say, a month had elapsed.

  This missive enraged Staines so much that despite his mother’s entreaties; he dashed off a letter to her brother, castigating him for not exercising more control over his sister.

  Returning home that evening after an interesting time spent in the Red Bull drinking his porter at the same time as Mr Elfoy’s nightly ale, Grandiston accosted Charles in the Hall.

  ‘Charles, the bloom is once more upon your cheek. The country air agrees with you.’

  ‘Grandiston. What are you about now?’ said the Honourable Mr Booth with a wary look.

  ‘Have you not thought Charles of your need, your quite urgent need, for a house in the country?’

  Next day at breakfast, the gentlemen informed Lady Staines of their intention of leaving. Upon her protestations of grief, Mr Booth imparted some good news.

  ‘Oh, ma’am, don’t give it a thought. As a matter of fact I’ve taken a real fancy to this country. Best shooting I’ve had in an age. Mean to take a house in the neighbourhood. Be neighbours, you know.’

  ‘But wherever can you mean to stay?’ said the lady, faintly.

  ‘Why the Dower House at Ashcroft, ma’am.’

  Chapter 7

  New Acquaintances

  Lady Staines was determined, after the insouciance of this announcement by Mr Booth, to meet Miss Thorne who must, she felt, be at the bottom of his desire to stay in Hertfordshire.

  She arrived at the door to be given the same message as her son at the hands of the stately Sullivan. However, his mother was made of sterner stuff.

  ‘Of course, it is too early to intrude. Give her my regards and say I will call again.’ She turned away with a faint smile, then turned back just as Sullivan had begun to shut the door. ‘I feel a little faint in the heat of this spring day. So silly of me. Might I have a glass of water?’ She put her delicate hand to her brow affectingly.

  Sullivan bowed low and ushered her into the hall. He appreciated that he had met a match in the frail lady. ‘Please take a seat in the library and I shall have someone attend you madam.’

  Soon Lady Staines was joined in the library by a fluttering lady of middle age wearing a dove coloured silk dress and a lace cap decorated with a bewildering number of dove satin ribbons and carrying in a glass of water.

  ‘My dear ma’am, so sorry to find you unwell, pray drinks this,’ said the lady and set about in a rather distracted way to plump some cushions and set the table nearer to Lady Staines elbow.

  ‘Miss Thorne?’ she uttered

  The lady laughed, ‘Oh, dear me no. I’m Miss Appleby, one of Miss Thorne’s companions.’ Then she looked distracted.

  ‘One of her companions? She has more than one?’ said Lady Staines, quite forgetting to sip her water.

  ‘Three.’ uttered Miss Appleby in fatalistic accents. ‘That is to say two, I suppose, for Oriana is a friend bearing her company whilst Miss Micklethwaite and I are…Goodness, what am I saying? You are ill; you do not want to be hearing my ravings…’

  Lady Staines remembered her illness with a jolt, though she did indeed want to listen to Miss Appleby. Her instinct for gossip was infallible.

  Meanwhile Miss Micklethwaite was intercepted on her way to the sitting room by Sullivan, who informed her that Lady Staines of Staines Manor was in the library.

  ‘With Miss Appleby, Miss.’ he added, significantly.

  Miss Micklethwaite took it in at once. ‘Good Lord. What might not she say.’ She hurried towards the library.

  ‘Lady Staines, I am sorry to hear you are indisposed.’ She said, ‘I trust Louisa is taking good care of you.’

  ‘Augusta, dear. Let me introduce you to Lady Staines. Your ladyship - Miss Augusta Micklethwaite.’ Miss Appleby was relieved for she vaguely felt that she had not quite explained herself properly.

  Lady Staines held out her hand to Miss Micklethwaite, ‘Another of Miss Thorne’s companions, I presume?’

  Miss Micklethwaite took up her seat with stolid serenity.

  ‘Yes, indeed, Lady Staines. You find us a house full of women here. Miss Petersham bears Miss Thorne company. These young girls all have their particular friends, do they not? Miss Appleby here was the dearest friend of Mrs Thorne before she passed away and now stands somewhat in the nature of a mother to the young lady. I myself have been companion and teacher since she was a child and she could not bear to part with me, though she is too old for a governess now.’

  Miss Appleby was amazed at Augusta’s masterful summation: surrogate mother, governess and best friend, what could be more natural? It was moreover, nearly the truth.

  ‘Miss Thorne is very fortunate in her friends, I’m sure.’ said her Ladyship graciously, ‘I’m so sorry to intrude, but I fear at my time of life, these attacks overcome one.’

  The ladies disclaimed and offered her tea, which she accepted. Although they all enjoyed a chat, there were no more unguarded words. Miss Micklethwaite was a bit of a mystery. Just a touch less genteel than any governess she had encountered, she was nevertheless a woman of sense. Her manner to Lady Staines was respectful but untouched by any servility. Her more genteel companion showed more irritating attentions to her comfort but was clearly a lady. Though she lingered over tea, she had almost given up on her quarry, when suddenly Clarissa entered the room crying, ‘We have a tenant for the Dower House.’

  She broke off at the sight of Lady Staines and said all that was civil upon her introduction. She was wearing her new velvet riding dress (delivered that very day from the French emigrée dressmaker in Ashcroft village, who had cut it from her mother’s opera cloak) with mannish epaulets and a rakish hat adorned with black gauze. She looked every bit a lady and she had a becoming flush upon her face and sparkle in her eye.

  As Clarissa minded her manners, Lady Staines shook her hand apologized again for intruding and left the house satisfied.

  ‘If you want that land, Frederick, you would do well to marry the owner.’ she recommended her son later that evening. ‘It will cost you a great deal less and she is a very pretty girl.’

  Whilst deprecating his mother’s lack of delicacy in her remark, it gave Lord Staines food for thought. He was a very wealthy young man, owing to some fortunate investments of his father’s, and did not seek to marry for any but social advancement. He already had an impoverished Earl’s daughter in his eye, if he could just get over her rather unfortunate complexion. Miss Thorne’s father may be no-one, but she was the granddaughter of a Viscount and if she were passable…It was with more p
atience that he awaited the allotted time to visit his new neighbour.

  Mrs Cornelia Thorne, meanwhile, was shrieking at her husband about his decision to set off for Ashcroft.

  ‘Oh, John, you cannot. It would delay my visit to Bath and I have so longed for the diversion.’

  John was holding Staines letter aloft, ‘But, my dear, think. Clarissa is meaning to stay at Ashcroft. I can no longer place any dependence on her coming here. One would have thought that she would have given up this foolish start but she is setting the neighbourhood in a turmoil. I must go and order her home to us.’

  ‘You may just as well tell her to come by letter. But it is not convenient for her to come for at least another month. I get so few chances to go to assemblies these days. Why, I have not had occasion to wear my new lilac silk since I bought it three months ago. It would be very well for Clarissa to stay at home and look after the children next year, but this year she would be sure to want to go Bath with us.’ She saw that John was looking doubtful and she made haste to pet him, ‘You are such a good brother, John. In a month, when we are returned to Bath, Clarissa will be more willing to see sense and follow your wise guidance.’

  John returned his wife’s caress and reluctantly agreed. ‘But my dear one ... Assemblies! I thought we meant to keep to private parties since the death of my stepmother. The mourning period is not quite over. It is not seemly.’

  Cornelia pouted, ‘Nonsense, John. It is not as though she were your mamma. I shall wear black gloves, of course, but we cannot still be in mourning for one who is not even blood relation. It is six months.’

  Mr Thorne salved his conscience with her argument and with the reflection that his stepmother was not well known in Bath and they might thus be spared the opprobrium of the sticklers of etiquette who resided there. He sat down to write a measured letter to his sister, adjuring to come home to her brother and her fond sister-in-law and to give up her ridiculous attempt to set up her household with little money on a derelict estate. Her behaviour had already made her ridiculous to the district at large, as he had only today been informed by post. (That it had also rendered him ridiculous, he did not dwell upon.) He would be absent from home for a month and after that time he would come to bring her to her new home. He would be accompanied by his lawyer with some papers to sign that would obviate the need for her to worry her head any longer with the millstone of her inheritance.