‘Are they likely to be long at this “survey”?’
‘I could not say, my lord. They were commencing in the north wing, and I believe her ladyship requested a luncheon be served at half past one of the clock, before she goes below stairs.’
‘Good God.’
Since there was nothing which could be said to this, the under-butler wisely kept silent.
The earl ate thereafter in silence, and with the knowledge that on her first full day as lady of the house, his wife seemed determined to set everything upside down. Having lived with the dilapidations many years, he had not noticed their increase, and had one asked, he would have said that the house was in a perfectly reasonable state. He resolved to partake of the luncheon at one thirty, and ask if his bride had found fault anywhere.
*
Kitty had cause to sharpen the pencil, with which she had wisely provided herself, three times in the course of her exploration of the upper portion of the house, so many items were requiring attention, and she asked for a plan to be drawn up so that she might learn the layout of the rooms more swiftly. Without having to venture into such places as the attics, she had been made aware that the roof leaked in three places, that several of the guest chambers’ chimneys were inclined to smoke whenever the wind was westerly, which was common, and that they had had to remove the carpet from the north staircase after a maid tripped and broke her ankle, having caught her foot in a patch that was worn to nothing.
‘Since that wing has not been used in nigh on ten years, my lady, it seemed reasonable, lest someone else was to suffer a worse injury and break their neck,’ explained Norton.
‘Quite right too. But the chambers are roomy and could be very nice.’
‘And it is the wing with the nursery, my lady, so…’
‘Er, yes.’ Kitty thought that after last night the likelihood of the nursery being required in the near future was very slim.
‘We took out and burned an old coffer as it had the worm, my lady, in the autumn, but otherwise the wood in the house seems solid enough.’
‘For which we must be grateful, indeed.’
‘Yes, my lady. Er, her late ladyship, many years ago of course, had a great liking for the small yellow saloon.’
‘That was in the south wing, next to the room where the wallpaper was peeling?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘I can see why she liked it. She obviously also liked yellow. However, since his lordship took great exception to my even entering her old bedchamber…’
‘I am sorry, my lady, that was an error.’ Norton shook his head. His lordship’s words upon the mistake had been uncompromising.
‘I will ask him about the yellow saloon, then. It has a delightful view and excellent light.’
*
Kitty sat down to eat a little after one thirty, having had to change her gown so that it might be brushed free of the dust which had clung to it during her explorations. Her lord entered a moment afterwards.
‘I would have said good morning, my dear,’ he used the endearment cautiously, ‘but it is now long past noon. Have you been exploring the house to avoid me or to survey your new… empire.’
‘Certainly not the former, my lord, and scarcely the latter. If empire it is, then it is like the Roman one after the Sack of Rome. Unless you have utilised all the dowry that my brother provided to get me out of his house before the ring was even on my finger, I would hope you would permit me to put some of it to the laudable cause of restoring what was once a very beautiful house. Or have you not noticed that it is falling down about your ears?’
‘Hardly that, madam.’
‘No? When there are leaks in the roof which mean buckets to collect the rainwater, when your guests are subjected to smoking chimneys, rotting window frames, and moth-eaten furnishings? Or are your friends not so nice in their requirements?’
The earl did not feel competent to deny these accusations, and contented himself with mumbling that he had married a shrew.
‘I also wish to know if I am permitted to use the small yellow saloon, or whether any chamber frequented by your late mother is sacrosanct.’ She paused. ‘I ask simply so that I will not cause further offence, my lord.’ She spoke softly. ‘I will make mistakes, sir, for I do not know you. Once matters are explained you will not find me repeating errors.’
‘You may use it.’
He then withdrew into stony silence until the repast was almost over. Whilst delicately peeling an apple, however, Kitty returned to the thorny question of money.
‘Do I have your permission not only to make such changes as are necessary to maintain the fabric of the house, my lord, but to introduce certain new items, not only among the furnishings, but a modern cooking range for the kitchens?’
‘Oh, do as you see fit, madam, but do not pester me with domestic details. Present the bills at quarter day.’
‘Will you have the money to pay them? Or is this a household where only the most pressing is ever given perusal? I only ask since I dislike being dunned in Bond Street.’ Her tone was one of casual enquiry, but it stung him. ‘This house needs care lavished upon it. Whilst it has, I am sure, seen many “mistresses” in recent years, it has not had one.’ She flushed. She had not wanted to sound sharp tongued, or indeed to acknowledge the truth of his past, but his attitude had angered her. He scowled.
‘A lady does not know about such things.’
‘Unfortunately, my lord, yours cannot avoid doing so.’
‘You know, I see now why Bidford was so keen to get you off his hands. I thought I had the better part of the deal, but I see that he gammoned me.’ He pushed back his chair, and left the room without another glance in her direction. Had he done so he would have seen his wife bite her lip.
4
At least the setting in motion of restoring the house kept Kitty’s days full and her mind occupied, and meant that she saw little of her husband except at dinner. The connecting door was not opened again, which was a relief and yet a proof of her failure. It was as if there were two different worlds within Melling Hall: hers and his. By the nature of the tasks to be undertaken, the staff were part of her world, and after a few days, Lord Ledbury felt the subtle change. He began to feel an onlooker in his own house. He did not generally notice servants, not the lower ones, unless some especial service was performed, but suddenly they seemed to swarm like ants, and wherever he sought peace there would be found someone with their sleeves rolled up, applying beeswax polish, or scrubbing. It added to his feeling of discontent. His perfectly happy life was being upended, and all by the woman who wore his ring. His temper grew shorter, and he spent even more of his day out riding, unless it was too inclement, whereupon he shut himself in his library, declared he would have nobody enter unless summoned, and gave a very fair impression of a caged tiger.
Kitty threw herself into the revival of the house, and was to be found in all sorts of places, and frequently in animated conversation with Mrs Gowthorpe, in whom she found a kindred spirit when it came to Melling Hall.
‘Ah my lady, it will be like the old days. I wasn’t housekeeper then, that was my Aunt Matty, but we had a house full of guests most of the hunting season, from cubbing until the family went off to London in the spring, and proper guests too, not just gentlemen who, as you will understand, ma’am, are very careless of everything. Her ladyship was a fine hostess, and the house was full of “her”.’
‘She liked her sunshine, judging by the yellows in rooms that catch plenty of light.’
‘That she did, ah yes.’ Mrs Gowthorpe sighed. ‘Light went out of the place with her loss, and his lordship turned in on himself. Some say as he blamed himself for not appreciating her whilst he could. It did not change how he lived, but he took no pleasure in it,’ she revealed, a little cryptically, ‘and he kept her room like a shrine to her. Their son had the look of her, and he packed his little lordship off to school as soon as may be, and him missing his mama so bad. Her ladyship was not
a distant mother, she made time for him, and he was old enough to dote upon her and not old enough to understand. At first he kept asking when she was coming back, poor lamb.’
Kitty felt her throat tighten. She had been surprised and then a little shocked by Lord Ledbury’s attitude to his mother’s room, but this explained it, and imagining him as a small child, confused and bereft, brought tears to her eyes. Whatever he had become, he had suffered. Her own mama had died before she could have any memory of her. All she knew of her was her portrait in miniature, which she had brought among her belongings, and which she had placed upon a table in the yellow saloon. She could not bear the thought of her in the misery of the green bedchamber, but she had no painful memories of losing her, only the blank canvas of a childhood without any visible affection. To have known affection, and then having had it taken away, must have been terrible.
The result of this tender feeling was not good, since at dinner she cast her husband a look of such pitying sympathy he frowned, and asked why she was looking at him that way. Since revealing the truth felt impossible, and likely to throw him into a passion, she denied looking at him in any particular way, and saw his mouth harden into an uncompromising line.
‘If you choose not to tell me, madam, I cannot force you, but secrets are not meant to be good for a marriage.’ His voice was harsh.
‘Secrets? My life has nothing in it which could be secret, my lord. Does yours?’ She sounded deflated rather than vindictive.
His response was a growl, and thereafter the meal proceeded in silence.
*
There was some discussion among the ladies of the locality about making visits to the bride. The younger set were divided between those who thought the new Lady Ledbury was deserving of their pity, those that feared the ‘unknown’ wife, whom they had already heard he had married for her money, would be the ‘wrong sort’ for the county, and those who simply dreaded entering the gates of a ‘den of iniquity’. At this the older generation sniffed, and made scathing remarks. Whatever his reputation, Lord Ledbury was not going to continue entertaining in the manner of his bachelor days, at least not within weeks of his wedding and with the bride in residence. In this they were only partially correct.
In fact within four days of the commencement of their sojourn, he had sent out invitations to six of his closest acquaintance, inviting them to Melling Hall for the hunting. His scribbled note to his friend Lord Inglesham made that peer’s brows rise upon its receipt.
My dear fellow,
Do, I beg of you, come and cheer me up. The hunting is still good and we should have some fine sport, at least out on horseback. I cannot, sadly, offer you the sort of entertainment of previous years, but you will understand that the presence of my wife precludes such pleasures.
At the moment you will recognise the place, but if she continues in the “restoring” frame of mind as at present it will not be long before all is disgustingly neat, tidy, and redolent of polish, and not at all homely. Having said which, if it keeps her ladyship occupied and leaves us to our sport, then I suppose it is a fair price to pay.
I am sending invitations to Poole, Chertsey, and a few others so that we do not rattle about, but if you, my friend, decline then the whole thing will seem a bit flat.
Yours in desperation,
Ledbury
Lord Inglesham knew that his friend’s marriage had not been a love match, but a honeymoon ought to have been an opportunity to get to know his bride, in more than the obvious sense, and since George Ledbury never found it difficult to get women to fall in love, or at the least lust, with him and into his bed, he was surprised, and even disappointed, at the tone. His own honeymoon had been… he frowned, and shut the box of memory tightly.
Henry Inglesham had enjoyed a good, if brief, marriage, but Emily had died, and the babe with her, a little over a year after their nuptials, and he had turned away from all that reminded him of idyllic domesticity. His former friends shook their heads as he joined a more rackety set, and, for a while, drink looked likely to be the end of him. He was a couple of years Ledbury’s senior and shared his love of things equine. His views upon his friend’s relations with members of the opposite sex he generally kept to himself, since Ledbury would only shrug and ask if he wanted a career as a professional conscience.
Not one to leave his friend in the lurch, he packed his bags and made arrangements for three of his hunters to be taken into Rutland.
In the meantime one of the first ladies to ‘brave’ leaving her card was Lady Corsley, who was of the ‘pity’ faction. Kitty, conscious that no amount of diligence by the staff could disguise the faded nature of the hangings, or the threadbare carpets, expected her neighbours to survey, and find fault. What she had not expected was to be treated as if she had suffered a bereavement.
Lady Corsley was perhaps ten years her senior, soft voiced and keen to offer ‘the poor bride’ the hand of friendship. Kitty noted how her ladyship studiously avoided staring at the state of the room. She doubted any lady in the vicinity had entered the house in years, there being no châtelaine, and there must be curiosity.
‘So, my dear Lady Ledbury, how are you coping? It must be… difficult.’
‘It is certainly worse than I had anticipated. I declare the corridors have echoed to the sound of beating…’
‘Good God!’ Lady Corsley gripped her reticule tightly.
‘… but even an army of servants, and I wish to take on more, would find it impossible to get the house back into order in under a month, and I have already sent to London for samples of fabrics for new curtains, and if my lord desires us to reside in Town I shall be visiting carpet warehouses before I visit my dressmaker.’
Lady Corsley’s pulse rate descended to normality.
‘Oh, yes… I see. Of course the Hall has lacked a woman’s touch for so many years and has been allowed to… But I was referring to… It is such a change, being married.’
Kitty smiled, but her eyes did not.
‘I am used to running a house, since I did so for my father and latterly my brother, ma’am, though not on quite such a large scale.’ She was being intentionally obtuse. There was no way upon earth that she was going to reveal anything about her relationship, or lack of it, with her husband. ‘Ah good, here is tea. At least the china is in good condition, for I do not believe tea has been taken very often here of late.’ Her smile lengthened, as Lady Corsley nodded, dumbly. At the end of the customary half hour that lady left with no clear impression of the new Countess of Ledbury other than she was a very competent and seemingly unemotional young woman. Lady Corsley was not, of course, privy to her reaction when she was told that she was about to entertain seven gentlemen, for an unspecified length of time.
*
‘You have invited… When, my lord?’ Kitty nearly dropped her fork. The earl had slipped the information that there would be guests into the conversation at luncheon.
‘Well, I suppose Inglesham will be here tomorrow. Poole will not arrive before Monday I should guess, and the rest some time in between.’
‘And you expect a house fit for entertaining when… chimney sweep!’
‘I beg your pardon.’
‘Chimney sweep. I must get the chimneys swept in the chambers they will be taking, but in truth I think that the problem lies with the pots and we must have someone on the roof. Oh dear, and in this weather that would be likely to end in disaster. And food, goodness me. I need to speak with Cook and send into Town for fish and…’ She got up from the table, agitatedly. He rose also, out of polite habit.
‘For goodness’ sake, sit back down and finish your meal, ma’am. There’s no cause to go about like a headless chicken.’
‘Headless chicken! Oh yes, and you think you snap your fingers and everything just happens. Typical man.’ She threw down her napkin.
‘Well of course I am a typical man. What use would I be as a typical woman?’ He was both annoyed and confused at her reaction.
&nb
sp; ‘What use are you at all?’ Kitty flounced out.
*
Lord Inglesham did indeed arrive upon the following day, to the sight of his hostess, well wrapped up against a cold wind, standing in front of the house and gazing at the roofline, in the company of three burly individuals in homespuns. As he halted his curricle, Kitty turned, and smiled, a little hesitantly.
‘Lord Inglesham?’
‘Indeed, ma’am.’ He jumped down, nimbly, and handed his reins to his groom. The wind tugged at the capes of his driving coat. He made her a bow and took her hand.
‘Lady Ledbury, I am delighted to make your acquaintance, and beg your forgiveness at getting in your way. I see you are busy.’
‘Well, my lord, if you were concerned about that you could have declined the invitation.’ Her words were depressing but her eyes danced.
‘Ah yes, but then I would have been disappointing my best friend. I am in an intolerable position, I hope you will agree.’
‘Evidently, sir.’
‘I simply have to appeal to your good nature to forgive me.’
‘Not to Lord Ledbury’s good nature, then?’
‘He does not possess one.’ His lordship grinned. ‘I am his closest friend and if I…’
‘…Cannot slander him, who can, eh?’ It was Lord Ledbury’s voice. Inglesham turned, and saw his friend coming towards them, his hand held out in greeting. ‘Remind me, Henry, to find a more loyal best friend as soon as possible.’
‘Can’t be done, dear boy. I am the best you will get.’
The two men shook hands heartily, both grinning. It was evident, thought Kitty, that the bond between them was close. Without even looking her in the face, her lord invited his friend indoors to warm himself before the fire and tell him which of his hunters he was bringing over. Kitty stood, forgotten in a moment, and then, with a small sigh, returned to her discussion with the workmen.
The Devil You Know Page 4
