“Sorry to interrupt,” Jamie muttered, ignoring protocol and entering the room. He halted Doreen as she moved to leave the room. “I think, Cecily, that while you are here, Doreen is your maid. If you need anything, just ring the bell. Doreen works until the evening when she returns home to be with her family and, although she works downstairs as well, she has kindly agreed to assist you while you are here.” He knew he sounded officious but struggled to find a way to define the boundaries between mistress of the house and what were still, essentially, his serving staff, even if they did feel like extended family instead.
“I was just going to change the sheets,” Cecily muttered, glancing down at her clothing. “I was so tired last night that I couldn’t stay awake, and I am afraid I have rather made a mess of things. I don’t mind looking after myself while I am here, if Doreen doesn’t mind showing me where things are.”
Jamie fought a grin and shared a glance at Doreen. Cecily didn’t know it yet, but she had just scored a lot of points with all of the house staff. It was the way they worked. Even Jamie, who should be master of the house and expect to be waited on, wasn’t averse to helping himself to the pies and foods Mrs Nantwich always had readily available rather than bother the busy staff. It was rare, even for him, to depend on the house staff for things he could manage himself. Cecily had just fitted herself into his rather eccentric home life, in a single sentence.
“I am sure that Doreen won’t mind doing it while you get a bath, especially given this is your first morning here and you have spent the past two days travelling in extremely trying circumstances.” It was all he was going to divulge to Doreen, but knew the message had been received and understood from the knowing look in the maid’s eye. “When you are finished, Doreen can show you around the house and introduce you to the staff. I am sure Mrs Nantwich will be more than happy to show you round the kitchens, where to find the food and that sort of thing. We do tend to help ourselves here,” he added ruefully, studying her carefully for any sign of objection.
“Oh, I am more than happy to help out,” Cecily gushed, glancing down at her clothing cautiously.
“I have arranged for Mrs Nantwich to go into the town and see what she can find for you in the way of clothing. After your travelling yesterday, I think it would be best if you remain here and allow Mrs Nantwich to fetch what you need. Take a bath, get some rest and try some of Mrs Nantwich’s honey cake, it is delicious.”
He turned to leave, but was stopped by Cecily’s next question.
“Have you heard from Archie and Portia yet?”
Jamie slowly shook his head, flicking Doreen with a cautious glance before turning a hard stare on Cecily. “Not yet, I am sure everything is all right though. For now, concentrate on yourself.”
“Wait!” Cecily shouted as Jamie moved into the corridor. “What are you going to be doing?” She knew it was impolite to ask the master of the house what his plans for the day were. It was, after all, none of her business, but seeing as he had brought her here, he couldn’t seriously expect to simply abandon her and go about his business. Could he?
Jamie sighed. He could hardly tell her that he was going to despatch one of his most trusted men with messages for the Star Elite before settling down with Jonathan, and discussing what they knew about the case so far.
“I have some business matters to attend to,” he replied briskly. “If you need anything, ring for Doreen.” He didn’t wait for her to respond and stalked down the corridor toward his own room.
“I have just been incredibly rude, haven’t I?” Cecily sighed, staring at the open doorway.
“I wouldn’t worry about it miss. This isn’t a conventional household. Never has been and never will be. We all have our jobs you understand? But we all muck in and help each other out, even the master. I don’t know why it is the way it is, but we are just all one big happy family.”
“Sounds wonderful to me,” Cecily whispered, staring down at her toes morosely. She missed her sister more than ever and wondered where she was.
“Get yourself in the bath. I will see what I can do about brushing off the worst of the muck from your clothes before you put them back on. Mrs Nantwich is on her way to town as we speak, so your new clothes should be here soon. If you soak for a bit longer, she will probably be back before you get out.”
With that, Cecily found herself alone again to contemplate just how luxurious her new, if temporary, life was going to be.
CHAPTER FIVE
The rest of what was left of the morning passed in a blur for Cecily, who spent far longer in the bath than was wise. Her fingers had turned to prunes by the time she stepped out of the bath, dripping water all over the floor as she wrapped herself in a huge towel. She was just about to reach toward the bed for her clothing when she heard the quiet click of the door. Expecting to see Doreen returning with yet another tray of food or chocolate, she frowned at the closed doorway.
Frozen in place, her mind raced as she considered the events of the morning, and last night, carefully. Moving toward the doorway, she stared down at the floor beneath the table she had dragged across the doorway last night. The dull scraping sounds still resonated in her ears, so she knew she hadn’t imagined it.
So how had Doreen gotten into the room this morning?
When Cecily had opened her eyes, Doreen had been busy moving around the room with the table and chair well away from the doorway. So, how had Doreen moved them from outside of the room?
Her blood turned to ice and her fingers began to tremble as she remembered the strange scenario with the door. Quickly dragging on her clothing, she ignored the clinging of the wet material and moved to study the doorway carefully. Opening it and closing it several times confirmed that the knob turned effortlessly, and clicked the catch into place adequately enough to close the door properly and secure it. Frowning deeply, she tried to come up with an explanation for the strange events, but was at a loss. She opened the door once more and almost screamed at the sight of Doreen standing on the other side of the threshold.
Closing her eyes, she heaved a sigh and stood back to allow the curious maid into the room.
“What is it? Are you alright, ma’am?”
Cecily laughed shakily and nodded. “Just my wayward imagination,” she sighed, eyeing the bedding the maid was carrying.
“The master said I could show you around,” Doreen replied with a smile of satisfaction as they tugged the last of the covers over the bed once Cecily was dressed. “Seeing as we are upstairs, I will show you the top floor and then we can work out way down. Melvedere looks a bit confusing at first glance, but it is really easy to find your way around once you get your bearings.”
“Wonderful,” Cecily replied, glad to be getting out of the room at last. Although it was a fine, elegant room that was full of luxurious comfort, she was looking forward to seeing what else Melvedere had to offer, and meeting the rest of the residents and staff.
They moved rapidly down the rather nondescript upper corridor toward a small door at the far end.
“This takes you up to the tower,” Doreen announced, pushing the door open and moving into the circular staircase. “It takes you up to the old servants’ quarters. It is mostly used for storage these days, and has fallen into a bit of disrepair, but I will show you up here anyway.”
Cecily wandered between the long row of doors on the upper floor, listening to the winds howling through the eaves. The contrast between the cob-webbed walls, and peeling paint was stark against the lavish, brightly decorated guest room she was in. She wondered why Jamie had never bothered to maintain it properly. It seemed a shame that so much space, so many rooms, remained barren and empty.
It is none of your business really, Cecily reminded herself, closing the door at the far end of the corridor with a sigh of relief. The air was stuffy and dank, and held a faint scent of mustiness that made her think of the stuffed animals on her father’s study wall. With a shiver she turned away from the upper floor, glad to be able to move
away from it.
“We are now at the far end of the second floor, in the west wing.” Doreen pointed out of the side window. “That is the driveway you came down last night. The stables are over there and the rose gardens alongside it. There are mostly guest rooms on this side of the house, eight of them in total, and the master’s suite of rooms is on the other side. In the olden days, these rooms were used by the lady of the house, but they were converted into guest rooms by the old master before he passed.”
Cecily glanced around at the austere elegance. Tiny flowers randomly dotted the wallpaper giving the room a cheery yet homely feel. The dark, yet highly polished furniture and bright draperies were delightful and bespoke of an understated wealth that was welcoming rather than forbidding.
Each room they passed through had a different colour scheme and, unsurprisingly, each room was called after the colour scheme within. The blue room, the rose room, the yellow room were all very much alike except for the colour. Highly polished windows gleamed in the early afternoon sunshine and gave a clear view of the emerald greenery that seemed to surround the vast property.
Cecily suddenly longed to be outside, breathing in the gusty winds and bathing in the glorious sunshine. She didn’t know what it was about the house but something left her feeling slightly off-kilter. Although each room was rather nondescript yet elegant, she couldn’t quite shake of the feeling that she was being watched. As though someone was expecting something, only she didn’t know what, or who.
Shaking her head at her own wayward imagination, Cecily hurried after Doreen, oblivious to the long empty corridor behind her and the growing chill that permeated the still air. She barely glanced at the door to the master’s suite as they passed. Doreen made no attempt to show Cecily inside, and Cecily made no request to see the room, hurrying behind the maid as they descended the huge stone staircase.
They swept through the cavernous hallway, lined from floor to huge, domed ceiling, with portraits of long passed relatives of varying ages.
The morning room was a large, curious mix of landscapes, mirrors, ornately carved furniture interspersed with hand embroidered cushions, richly woven curtains and a vast array of delicate porcelain ornaments. It was definitely a ladies’ room. The spindly chairs were designed for elegance rather than comfort, and spoke of a quiet grace that made one feel immediately calm and at ease in such a splendid environment. Cecily glanced longingly at the thickly padded window seat and made a mental note to come back with a book at some point before following Doreen across the hallway to the sitting room. Equally as lavish, the leather seats were slightly scuffed at the edges showing the daily wear of a room well used. The shabby rug before the hearth held a huge black Labrador who was snoring loudly, and whose greeting was no more energetic than a slight thumping of his tail.
“That’s Basil. Don’t worry about him,” Doreen declared, nodding in disgust at the canine before moving toward the hearth, picking up the fire tongues and moving the dog’s tail away from the flames with a huff. “Bone idle, he is. I don’t know why the master bothers with him.”
Cecily stared down at the huge brown eyes and melted. Kneeling on the floor beside him, she began to stroke his smooth, glossy coat and held her hand out for the animal to sniff. Friends made, she pushed to her feet and walked toward Doreen, who was clearly waiting to complete the tour.
“This room is the study,” Doreen nodded to the huge wooden door as they passed but made no attempt to enter the room. “It’s busy at the moment, so we can’t go in.”
As she passed, Cecily was certain that she could hear Jamie’s voice from deep within, and wondered whether he was talking to Jonathan about what had happened over the past few days. She frowned at the door as she walked past, and wondered if she should knock and enter anyway. Despite Doreen’s declaration the master wasn’t to be disturbed, she should be included in any discussions to do with her sister and Archie, shouldn’t she?
But, she warned herself, if they were talking Star Elite business, then it had nothing to do with her and it would just be really awkward.
Cecily sighed, and followed Doreen through the next door along.
“This is the library,” Doreen announced, waving an arm grandly toward the huge expanse of room beyond the threshold.
From floor to ceiling, on each wall, there were books, thousands and thousands of them lined in neat rows. Awestruck, Cecily tried to keep her mouth closed as she walked into the room and moved in a slow circle while she studied the vast display before her. She was so engrossed in studying the various colours of the tomes that she didn’t notice the sporadically dotted easy chairs here and there, and jumped when her bottom nudged against one of them.
Snapping out of her daze, she turned in amazement toward a smug looking Doreen.
“It’s amazing isn’t it?”
“I have never seen anything like it,” Cecily whispered, feeling awestruck.
“This is Miss Emstridge,” Doreen muttered, all joviality leaving her face. Cecily glanced at the maid, surprised in the sudden change of her demeanour.
Turning around, her gaze landed on the bespectacled, bird-like lady seated behind a desk in between numerous towers of haphazardly stacked books, several piles of parchment, numerous quills, and one large inkpot.
“Miss Emstridge is here to catalogue the books, although it is taking slightly longer than it ought.” The last few words were emphasised rather strongly, leaving Cecily curious as to the cause of the clear antagonism between the two women.
Deciding that it really was none of her business, Cecily smiled brightly the narrow face of the curious Miss Emstridge, and moved forward.
“My name is Cecily,” she announced only to hesitate at the narrow eyed glare the woman gave her.
“Quite.”
Cecily fought the urge to squirm under the beady eyed gaze and glanced across at Doreen.
“Let’s move on, shall we?” the maid asked, shooting Miss Emstridge a filthy glare.
Taking the woman’s rudeness for bad manners, Cecily made no further attempt at conversation and silently followed Doreen out of the room.
“Don’t mind her. She is rude and rather uncommunicative at the best of times but always has been. The old master set her on about five years ago to take stock of the books in his possession, but she seems to have taken it as an open invitation to stay as long as she can. The cataloguing never seems to be complete and, as far as I know, the master has never seen the so-called lists she is supposedly creating,” Doreen murmured quietly as they headed through a door at the end of yet another corridor, and entered what appeared to be the servants’ area.
The housekeeper’s quarters were largely ignored. The highly polished door was clearly emblazoned with the word PRIVATE, and was merely nodded at as they passed. Doreen remarked that it was hallowed ground, and somewhere that the servants didn’t go near because it was Mrs Nantwich’s private space. Cecily couldn’t really see any need to go anywhere near the housekeeper’s quarters, and merely glanced at the door as they walked toward the rear of the house.
Unlike her preconceived notions of large houses, the back of the house was freshly decorated, clean and tidy and well furnished. Clearly Jamie looked after his staff, and they appreciated his generosity by looking after their surroundings the dedication and care of long standing members of the household who really wanted to be in their place of work.
Before they approached the door, Cecily could hear the most angelic singing accompanying the busy clatter of pots and pans. Her stomach flipped nervously as she followed Doreen into the large room. She had no sooner crossed the threshold than she became acutely aware of the curious glances the three occupants gave her. The man seated at the table dropped the boot he was polishing and pushed to his feet, lunging for his jacket, which he hastily began to drag on.
“Please, don’t bother on my account,” Cecily gasped awkwardly, shaking her head apologetically at him before turning toward the rather robust lady who approac
hed with a broad smile of welcome on her face. The lady was tall and grey haired, and clearly sang as well as she cooked.
“Ma’am, a top of the day to you and that’s a fact,” she chirruped in a heavy Irish voice.
“Pleased to meet you. What beautiful singing,” Cecily replied, glancing at the third occupant of the room, a girl in her mid twenties, who continued chopping vegetables at the table while smiling at them gamely.
“We like to keep ourselves occupied, my dear,” Mrs Nantwich declared, dropping a heavy, steaming pan on the table. “Put them in there, Sophie, my girl.”
Cecily smiled at the girl.
“This here is Potter, the groomsman and groundsman, and this young lady here is Sophie, the upstairs maid and kitchen maid. We all muck-in around here, so don’t hesitate to ask any one of us if you ever need anything.”
“Oh, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind, really,” Cecily replied, watching Potter resume his seat awkwardly. Mrs Nantwich studied her carefully for several moments before shaking her head.
“We are just about sorted out for now, but your offer is most kind. You are a guest in the house and we will start as we mean to go on, if that is alright. If you need anything just ring and we will be there as quickly as we can.”
Cecily frowned, unsure what Mrs Nantwich had seen in her that had put her off accepting her help. It made her feel uncomfortable to think that the serving staff didn’t consider her someone who could take care of herself.
“I am only here as a temporary guest, and will be on my way shortly, I am certain of it. Meantime though, I am used to working as I used to take care of my father, so I would prefer to be kept busy. Is there anything I can do now?” Cecily tried to keep her tone affable but sighed in frustration when Mrs Nantwich shook her head, a mutinous look on her face.
“We are all arranged for today, ma’am, but it is kind of you to make the offer. I am sure the master will have a few things for you to do.” Mrs Nantwich’s tone was somewhat vague and cautious, making Cecily frown in consternation.
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