‘Yes?’ James asked. Although Harvey was harmless, being shorter and skinnier than James and nowhere near as broadly built, it was still unnerving to think he had been silently watching.
‘Can I ask you something?’ the footman asked. ‘Oh, if I were you, I’d put the hot in first.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, Sir. The house is near full tonight, the ladies will be draining the hot water tanks, and there won’t be enough to go around. Half fill with hot and then add cold when his Lordship is ready, that way, he won’t miss out.’
It was a practical suggestion, and James took him up on it. ‘What did you want to ask?’
‘It wasn’t ask so much,’ Harvey said, helping himself to the bathroom stool. ‘I just wanted to say that it makes a change to see a servant and his master behaving like you two do. Is it out of turn to say that?’
‘Probably, but I take it as a compliment. I think.’
‘Oh, good. You see, we don’t get much of that kind of treatment around here. I mean the way Lord Clearwater looks after you. The earl is a hard taskmaster to Mr Huddleston, that’s the prune…’ Harvey winked. ‘And Mr Huddleston passes that attitude to the rest of us. With you, I get the feeling you actually like working for His Lordship.’
‘I do, Harvey,’ James said, his brow knitting as he wondered where this conversation was headed. ‘I take it you’re not happy here?’
‘Ah, it’s a job, Sir…’
‘You don’t have to call me Sir.’
‘Feel like I should.’ Harvey shrugged, and his face fell to sadness. ‘You’re not just a gentleman’s valet, Sir, you’re a gentleman. I knew that from the start. How old are you?’
The directness reminded James of Silas, and he took no offence. ‘I am twenty-six,’ James said. ‘And you?’
‘Twenty-five last week. Not that anyone noticed.’ He was suddenly on his feet. ‘Right, I’ve got a couple more minutes. Buttons are done. I’ll finish the bath if you want to get his medals pinned.’
Uncertain whether he was being criticised for filling the bath incorrectly, or whether Harvey was keen to impress, James agreed and left the man to it.
The footman’s words had struck a chord that sounded in harmony with something Archer had said earlier about James going into business. It was as if the viscount and the servant both saw him as being below where he should be, and it was worrying. James was a lad from South Riverside whose only privilege was to have been brought up in a family with an income, although that was only possible because his father was absent most of the year in the merchant navy. He was no more or less educated than anyone else he had worked with, and if he hadn’t had the good fortune to meet Thomas on the steps of Clearwater House that day, he would probably still be serving the GPO as he had expected to do for the rest of his life. Archer believed he had more potential, and now, so did a footman he had known for less than three days.
The matter was still occupying his mind as he attached Archer’s medals to his jacket, the door burst open, and the viscount practically danced into the room.
‘Jimmy!’ he said, once the door was kicked shut. ‘You truly are a wonder. You were perfect, and I have had a terrifyingly tempting epiphany.’
Before James could warn him, Archer had taken two strides, wrapped him in his arms, and lifted him from the floor in a bear hug. As animated as a schoolboy who’d been let out early, he threw open the wardrobe, and to James’ alarm, pulled out his coat and tossed it onto the bed.
‘Was that thing with the string real?’ the viscount asked as a hat was flung to join the coat. ‘Was it really from Bradford? Or did you make that up to put the old duffer in his place?’
‘My Lord…’
‘Oh, my God, he is so pigeon-livered. How he ever got to captain a ship, I have no idea. He’s given me a quest, Jimmy, and another painting has given me the answer to all our troubles. I will tell you about it at the hotel.’
‘Sir…’
Archer was too excited for interruptions.
‘I am so bloody glad to be free of this abattoir,’ he said. ‘We’re leaving, and I’ve staunched his bloody amendment, for now at least…’
‘Sir…’
‘No, shush. I’ve an idea. Where have they housed you?’
‘My Lord, please…’
Harvey was agape in the bathroom doorway behind Archer’s back.
‘No, no,’ Archer put one hand over James’ mouth, and the other on his shoulder, his eyes dancing a wild waltz of enthusiasm. ‘Thirty minutes and there’s no more Sir this and Your Lordship bloody that. I am taking you to dinner, James Joseph, and we are staying at a hotel. I don’t care where, but we’ve missed the last train, and I am not staying here another night. Now, where’s your room? I’ve had this wonderful idea. You pack my bags, and I’ll go up and pack yours. We’ll meet back here and get someone to run us into the village. Top floor, yes?’
James took Archer’s hand from his mouth, unsure whether to laugh or be worried and turned the viscount to face Harvey.
‘Hello,’ Archer said as if he had expected the footman to be there. ‘Harvey, isn’t it? Sorry, I can’t take you with us, but you’re needed here. Where’s Mr Wright’s room?’
Dumbstruck, Harvey pointed to the ceiling.
‘Good start,’ Archer encouraged. ‘And how does one get through the panelling to the floor above?’
‘Harvey kindly laid out your uniform, Sir,’ James said, to try and restore order.
‘Jolly good of you, Sir.’ Archer astounded the young man further by shaking his hand. ‘Mr Wright says you’re the only decent chap in the house, and after what I’ve seen, I agree with him. Would you mind terribly if I didn’t wear it?’
James tried a forced cough in the manner Tom used when the viscount was stepping out of line, but it failed to rein him in.
‘I’ve been set free, Harvey,’ Archer carried on regardless. ‘Now, how do I get to Jimmy’s room?’
‘Upstairs, Sir,’ Harvey stammered. ‘Right from here to the end, servant’s door, up two flights, first left, third on the right.’
Archer repeated the route aloud as he hurried to leave. ‘Thirty minutes, Jimmy!’ he sang, slipping out and leaving his valet and the footman staring at each other.
‘Bloody hell,’ Harvey said with a sigh. ‘You’re so lucky. Is he always like that?’
James stepped up to the footman and stared directly into his eyes.
‘Harvey,’ he said, using the strictest voice he could muster through his confusion. ‘You are not to say a thing. His Lordship is clearly on edge, and no, this is not his usual behaviour. Perhaps you should be about your duties while I go and find him before he wanders into the maids’ quarters and causes an outrage.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about me, Sir,’ Harvey said. ‘I’m just jealous that your master is so… well, so normal. Want me to help you pack?’
‘What? No, you’ll get in trouble.’
‘I don’t care. Someone’ll find me when I’m needed.’
‘No, better not, but thank you,’ James said. ‘Sincerely, Harvey, thank you.’ The man was so affable, and his face full of a joy that had not been present before, James decided he liked him too much to allow him to fall foul of the prune. ‘You should go, but please, not a word to anyone.’
‘Fair enough,’ Harvey said, his face falling. ‘Shame you’re not staying. Can I write to you?’
‘What? Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because I haven’t got anyone else to pay me the time of day, to be honest, Sir.’ Harvey smiled sadly. ‘Not in this house. You’re so bloody lucky.’
It was pitiful, and yet as Harvey stood at the door and looked back, it wasn’t pity that James felt so much as admiration.
‘You do a good job here,’ he
said. ‘Stick with it, and something better will come along.’
‘I do hope so.’ Harvey straightened his livery. ‘Well, here we go again. Good luck to you… Jimmy.’
That wink again, reminiscent of Silas, cheeky and yet somehow so acceptable that James couldn’t help himself.
‘Of course, you must write, Harvey,’ he said. ‘I’ll look forward to your letters.’
Precisely thirty minutes later, just as James was closing the last of the viscount’s large suitcases, Archer crashed back into the room with James’ battered old case and his knapsack.
‘Ready?’ he asked as if this was normal behaviour.
‘I am, Sir. But are you going to explain what’s going on?’
‘Over dinner.’ Archer collected one of his cases.
‘Leave those, Sir. I’ll ring for someone.’
James tried to intervene, but Archer was adamant.
‘Hell no. They’ll be too busy bowing and scraping. I took everything from your room that was yours. I assume you hadn’t left anything in the bathroom? Good. I was tempted to hunt for a souvenir for you, but then I thought they might accuse you of theft, so changed my mind. I assume we use the backstairs?’
‘Hang on, Archer,’ James said. If the man wasn’t going to behave like a viscount, James wouldn’t treat him like one. ‘If we’re going to sneak out the back way, at least put on your coat.’
When Archer was ready, James led him from the room to the backstairs. Archer asked what Harvey had been doing in his room, and James told him what had taken place, which Archer didn’t mind at all, and he listened with interest as they took the stairs to follow a passage and then turned left into another. This they followed until a second flight of stairs took them up, along a corridor lined with doors and down where they bore right. Two more flights later, they stood before another door to get their breath back.
‘Good Lord,’ Archer panted. ‘No wonder everyone is so scrawny.’
‘You get used to it,’ James said. ‘Ready?’
‘Advance!’ Archer used his best imitation of the earl and chuckled. ‘Come on, Jimmy. Let’s get out of this place before I go mad.’
James had no doubt that Archer would explain himself as promised, and was prepared to wait. He needed all his concentration to sneak His Lordship through the under-stairs labyrinth without Archer doing something stupid.
‘Right,’ he said, picking up the cases. ‘Stay behind me and say nothing.’
James shouldered his way through the baize with Archer obediently following and was met by a wall of sound. It increased as they descended a few stone steps to the endless passage that joined the backstairs with the servants’ hall and pantries. Maids and hall boys crisscrossed the corridor carrying an assortment of trays, buckets, dishes and other paraphernalia needed for the lavish dinner being served above, and none paid them any attention. The sound of clattering pans and voices grew louder as they approached the kitchens, but James kept his head down as if doing so would make him invisible, and prayed that behind him, Archer was equally as inconspicuous.
The entrance to the servants’ hall consisted of a large arch with no door, and as they drew near, James heard a powerful voice cut through the rest of the hubbub as the earl’s valet finished a sentence in a patronisingly feminine tone.
‘… or Viscount Queerwater, as I call him. Bloody pansy.’
Laughter rang out, and it was all James could do not to throw himself at the man. Catching a quick glimpse of black and white uniforms, he hurried past the opening, determined to block his ears.
‘Take no notice, Sir,’ he hissed on reaching the other side, but realised he was walking alone.
Stopping, he turned to see Archer on the far side of the arch, his head cocked to the conversation within. When James waved frantically for him to hurry, Archer put down one of the cases, held a finger to his lips and pointed to his ear.
‘No,’ James hissed, and frantically thumbed towards the end of the passage.
Archer ignored him.
‘Good riddance to that sort,’ the earl’s valet said, and a few other voices agreed. ‘I bet his man’s man is a man-only-man if you know what I mean.’ It was said with a leer that set James’ blood boiling.
It froze when Archer put his other case on the ground, checked his lapels for dust and stepped calmly into the doorway. Groaning, and dreading what was to come, James followed.
Steam from the kitchen billowed across the ceiling above the heads of a group of maids and hall boys in the centre of which stood Evans, as wide as he was tall. Laughter withered to stony silence, and one of the maids gasped.
‘So sorry to interrupt,’ Archer said as politely as if he had wandered into a parish council meeting. ‘I assume Huddleston is busy above stairs, is Mrs Jenkins here?’
‘I am right behind you, Your Lordship, come to see what this gaggle is about.’
The housekeeper glided into the room, and having silenced the last cough and shuffle with a glare, turned to the viscount and curtseyed.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Archer delved into his inside pocket. ‘I shan’t keep you long, Mrs Jenkins. I must leave on urgent business, but before I go, it is customary to leave a tip for one’s footmen, and I have packed in such a rush, I was unable to speak with Harvey.’ Opening his wallet, he handed her some coins. ‘Would you see he gets this with my thanks?’
‘Two guineas, Sir?’ the housekeeper accepted the money with shock.
‘Oh, is it? Sorry, he’s not worth two guineas.’ Archer gave her two more. ‘He’s worth four, at least.’
Eyes opened wide, and even the steam seemed to stop and gawp.
‘And this,’ Archer handed her a five-pound note, ‘is to be distributed among your maids and the hall boys. They have been exceptional. But perhaps you would tell that other man, Joseph, I would have tipped him had he had any semblance of character or charm.’ His eyes flicked to Evans, as dumbstruck as the rest. ‘I am terribly sorry, Mr Evans, but as you didn’t valet for me, I can only offer you advice. I’m sure your needlework is beyond reproach, but when talking about a better man behind his back, it is advisable to use his given title. People may think you are deriding the wrong person, you see? Perhaps even deriding yourself.’ It was said with a charming smile that sliced through the man’s confidence and reduced him to the standing of an eight-year-old. ‘And now, Mrs Jenkins, Lord Queerwater must ask you the favour of arranging a carriage to take us to the village. Having been of immeasurable service to myself and Lord Kingsclere, I am taking Mr Wright to dinner. Unless, Mr Evans, you would like my man’s man to stay and educate you in the sophrosyne required for your chosen profession?’
When Evans failed to reply, Archer continued.
‘No?’ he enquired, sweetening his smile. ‘Well, that is a shame. We shall trouble you no further, Mrs Jenkins, and will wait in the yard. Good night and thank you.’
James stepped back to allow Archer to leave, and when he was out of sight, wished Evans a sarcastic ‘Good luck, mate’ in his rough, Riverside accent before winking at one of the maids and making her blush. He thanked Mrs Jenkins with a polite bow.
The housekeeper barked a hall boy into action. ‘A carriage for these gentlemen’, she commanded, scowling at Evans before returning James’ farewell and suppressing a grin of admiration.
Six
Archer’s sudden change in mood continued to confound James as a carriage took them to the nearby village of Hannington. When he asked the viscount for a reason for their curtailed stay, Archer told him to wait because he was still, ‘Untangling the mystery and tying my own knot it in.’ Arriving at the coaching inn, he asked again, but Archer told him to be patient because it was an ‘Intricate yarn of deception which needed to be equalled, and I’ve not yet found the knitting pattern,’ which only baffled James fu
rther.
They secured a room, where puffing like a bulky steam train, the landlord dragged two cases to the upper floor while James brought the others.
‘It’s not very big,’ the man panted, showing them a garret. ‘But the bathroom next door is private, and the water’s hot. I hope it’ll do for Your Lordship.’
Two single beds had been pushed together under the sloping ceiling, a wardrobe listed drunkenly behind the door, while two chairs and a washstand completed the sparse, but clean, furniture collection. With the suitcases inside, there was no space for a third man, and the landlord watched dubiously from the landing.
‘It will do marvellously,’ Archer declared, inching around James to peer from the window.
‘If I’d known, My Lord, I would have given you our Sissy’s room. I can turn her out of it if you want.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Archer said. ‘But I do dream of a hearty meal for myself and my man. Can that be arranged?’
‘Yes, Sir. I can make a space in the kitchen for your servant if he’s hungry.’
‘Certainly not! Mr Wright has dined with Lord Tennyson and is not a dog. Now please make enquiries as to the time of the morning connections to London. I assume you have a telegraph office at the station?’
‘We do, Sir, but it is closed right now.’
‘As expected. Thank you. We will dine in forty minutes.’
The landlord touched his forelock and heaved his excessive frame to the stairs, leaving James to close the door.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a room of your own, Sir?’ James asked, regarding the beds uncertainly. ‘It would be more private.’
‘Two things, Jimmy,’ Archer said, throwing a suitcase onto one bed and bending to open the catch. ‘You know me well enough by now not to have to ask such a question, and while we are here, there are to be no titles. Understood?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Then that is the last time you address me as such, and… Leave that alone.’ Out of habit, James had begun taking the viscount’s clothes from the case. Archer flapped him aside. ‘We have much to discuss, Jimmy because there is much taking place behind the scenes, and I will need you to be a large part of it.’
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