Chapter Fifteen
‘I understand what you’re saying…’ Florence clenched her teeth as she looked across the tea table at the housekeeper.
It had only been twenty minutes since they’d sat down together and she was already reaching the end of her tether ‘…but I really don’t think one day of holiday a month is sufficient.
Everyone deserves some free time, don’t you think?
At least an additional evening per week. ’
‘In my experience, my lady, free time is a temptation to vice, especially in the evenings.’ Mrs Fitch made a show of folding her hands in her lap. ‘I would be far more amenable to the idea of allowing staff a morning’s holiday each week, but there’s far too much to be done.’
‘That’s hardly the staff’s fault. And surely what people choose to do with their spare time is their own business?’
‘I disagree. The behaviour of the staff reflects upon this house and its family. As housekeeper, I demand and expect the highest standards. Anyone unable to meet them is welcome to leave.’
‘But we should also provide as pleasant a working environment as possible, don’t you think?’
‘Who says it’s unpleasant?’ The housekeeper’s eyes narrowed. ‘The honour of working at Rainton ought to be pleasure enough.’
Florence poured a second cup of tea, wishing it were something stronger.
She was feeling unsettled enough, after reading her parents’ letter the previous night.
Their kind words, in which they’d expressed their surprise at her marriage but assured her of their belief in her innocence, had made her feel so guilty that she’d found it hard to sleep afterwards.
Apparently she’d lied to them about her behaviour too.
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree,’ she answered finally. ‘From now on, I insist that all members of staff are permitted one day of holiday and an evening free each week, as well as half-days on Sundays.’
‘Absurd.’ Mrs Fitch sniffed, as she had at least half a dozen times already. ‘I warn you, such lax rules will make this house a…a…den of iniquity!’
‘Well, that would certainly be interesting, but let’s see how it goes, shall we?’ Florence cleared her throat. ‘And on that subject, I understand there was some kind of misunderstanding with one of the maids last month. Jemima, I think?’
‘There was a scullery maid by that name, but there was no misunderstanding. She was spreading impure thoughts amongst the other maids.’
‘From what I’ve heard, she was only talking about a beau.’
‘Which she knew was forbidden. You may think it draconian, my lady, but in time, she would have corrupted them all.’
‘None the less, I should like her to be rehired, perhaps with a warning not to discuss such matters during working hours again?’
There was a long pause before Mrs Fitch turned her face aside. ‘On your head be it.’
‘Good, and I think it would be a wise idea to increase everyone’s wages too.’
‘Everyone’s?’
‘Yes, yourself included, of course. Now, about the fair.’
Mrs Fitch’s head whipped back again. ‘What about the fair? The arrangements are already in place.’
‘And I’m sure they’re all excellent. I’d just like to make a few additions to the programme. Music and dancing, for example.’
‘There’s a maypole.’
‘For the children, yes, but I’m sure a lot of adults would appreciate the chance to—’
‘I must protest!’ The housekeeper sounded appalled. ‘The fair is a sober and dignified occasion, exactly as the former marquess wished. There has never been any dancing, nor has anyone ever complained about it to me.’
‘Perhaps they’ve been worried about how you might react?’ Florence cleared her throat. ‘Just because nobody’s said anything doesn’t mean they wouldn’t enjoy a little music. But if you’re worried, it could be in the evening, once all the picnicking and prize-giving is over.’
‘That would be even worse. Once it gets dark, who knows what depravity it might lead to? Next you’ll be telling me the staff should be allowed to attend.’
‘Well, yes, actually, once the picnic is over, I can’t see why they shouldn’t—’
‘My lady,’ Mrs Fitch rose to her feet, ‘might I have your permission to withdraw?’
‘If you wish.’ Florence sighed. ‘If you need some time to think about it all, I completely understand.’
‘I do not require time to think. You and your ideas are exactly what my former master warned me of.’
‘He warned you about me?’
‘This entire situation!’ The housekeeper tossed her head. ‘And I know exactly what he would have expected me to do about it!’
‘Sewell, Mrs Fitch…what is this about?’ Leo set his ledger and quill aside as his steward and housekeeper came to stand in front of his desk.
Rimmer had just been in to inform him, with a particularly pointed look, that the pair of them were requesting a meeting, but whatever the matter was he hoped they’d make it quick.
The dinner bell would be ringing soon, and he was impatient to see Florence again.
After spending two days alone together in a carriage, it had felt strange to spend so much time apart, but he’d had so many practical matters to catch up on, he hadn’t even stopped for lunch.
Most of his day had actually been spent with Sewell, a fact that made his steward’s reappearance now even stranger.
‘We’ve come to speak with you about a sensitive matter, my lord.’ Sewell tipped his head so far back, Leo could practically see up his nostrils. ‘In fact, we believe it is our duty to do so.’
‘Indeed?’ He leaned back in his chair, bracing himself. ‘Go on.’
‘Since your return from London, there have been some alarming developments.’
‘You mean, my return from London yesterday? Less than twenty-four hours ago, in fact?’
‘Yes, my lord. Although really, it began before that, with the arrival of the herd.’
‘Sewell, didn’t we discuss that this morning?’ Leo pressed a hand to his forehead. ‘You’ve made your feelings about the new cattle very clear, so if you’re here to denounce them again—’
‘It’s not just about that, my lord. I’ve also recently been told about some new and extremely alarming developments.’
‘Her Ladyship is out of control!’ Mrs Fitch burst out.
Leo lifted an eyebrow in surprise. In one moment, his housekeeper had just demonstrated more emotion than she had in the entire rest of the time he’d known her. ‘That’s quite a charge. What exactly has she done?’
‘It’s more a question of what she hasn’t done. She wants to destroy my entire life’s work!’
‘How so?’
‘She wishes to hire undesirables, to increase the staff’s wages and holidays, and to allow dancing at the fair!’ The housekeeper’s face was turning an alarming shade of puce.
‘Those items being your life’s work?’
‘It’s the ethos behind them. Your father’s ethos.’ Mrs Fitch’s gaze slid, as usual, to the letter on his desk. ‘Everything that Mr Sewell and I have strived to maintain since his passing, as he asked us to do. If she has her way, she’ll drag us all down to her level.’
‘I see,’ Leo answered softly, keeping his voice deliberately calm. ‘And what level would that be exactly?’
There was another pause. ‘That’s not for me to say, my lord.’
‘Ahem.’ Sewell coughed. ‘I believe that what Mrs Fitch is trying to say is that we feel it is our duty to speak out when we see your father’s legacy being threatened, whether that be in regard to the estate or the management of the household.
The new cottages and cattle were bad enough, but the rest of these changes…
’ He hung his head, as if he couldn’t bear to go on.
‘We’re sorry that it’s come to this, my lord, but we cannot in good conscience stand back and say nothing.
We’ve discussed it and we would rather resign. ’
‘You would?’ Leo sat up straighter. ‘Both of you?’
‘I’m afraid so, my lord.’
‘Very well.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Sewell looked startled.
‘I said, very well.’ Leo pushed himself to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. ‘If you both feel so strongly about the situation then I accept your resignations.’
‘But, my lord, surely you can see what a mistake—’
‘What I can see are two people who believe that my father is still the marquess.’ Leo looked between them.
‘I can understand the confusion. You worked with him for a long time and you both did excellent jobs. However, the estate is now mine and I shall run it as I see fit. Therefore, I accept your resignations and thank you for all your hard work over the years. Sewell, you may of course keep your house, and Mrs Fitch, a cottage will be provided for you on the estate. On top of that, you will also both receive an annual stipend.’
‘This is monstrous!’ Mrs Fitch’s face resembled an overripe tomato in danger of bursting at any moment. ‘If that’s your decision then I shan’t stay here a day longer. I shall go to my sister’s house until my cottage is ready.’
‘If that’s what you wish. Sewell?’
‘I…’ The steward exchanged an uncertain look with the housekeeper. ‘I shall also go, my lord.’
‘Then I thank you both again and wish you the best for the future. Good evening.’
He stood there, waiting until they’d both departed before heaving a long sigh, one that he felt as if he’d been holding in for months.
A fortnight ago, if someone had told him he was about to lose both his steward and housekeeper in one evening, he might have experienced some degree of alarm, but now he felt as if a giant boulder had just been lifted from his shoulders.
Relief swept through him like a cool breeze.
And the best part of it was that they’d made the decision to go themselves, excusing him from any sense of obligation and leaving him free to be himself, his own man, more than just a dutiful son.
He glanced briefly at the letter on his desk and then placed his ledger on top of it.
Yes, that was much better.
Florence hurried across the hall, following the sound of a cue hitting a ball into the billiards room.
After what Jane had just told her, she’d run straight out of her bedroom in search of Leo, dressed for dinner in a simple blue muslin evening gown, but with her hair still unbound, half-brushed and hanging loose over her shoulders.
She didn’t care. She needed to speak with him as soon as possible.
‘Is it true?’ She burst into the room and stopped breathlessly in the doorway. ‘You’ve dismissed Sewell and Mrs Fitch?’
‘News travels fast.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘Although not entirely accurately. They resigned.’
‘What?’ She gasped. ‘Was it because of my meeting with her? Because I tried to be polite—’
‘I’m sure you were perfectly reasonable.
’ He laid his cue on the table and walked towards her.
‘If you’d asked her to move a single chair in the drawing room, she would have found fault.
Sewell too. They both wanted to manage the house and estate as my father did or not do it at all, so they gave me an ultimatum.
It might have been a bluff, but I found that I didn’t wish to find out. I accepted their resignations at once.’
‘Leo…’ she didn’t break his gaze ‘…are you telling me that we have no steward and no housekeeper for a house with a hundred rooms and an estate of thirty thousand acres?’
‘That’s pretty much the long and short of it, yes.’
‘How can you be so calm about that?’
‘I don’t know, but I am.’ He lifted a hand to her head, sliding his fingers around a tendril of hair. ‘It feels like a fresh start.’
She swallowed as the backs of his fingers skimmed her cheekbone.
It felt like such an intimate gesture, definitely more than just making the best of things, although she wondered if he was simply in shock from losing his two most important members of staff…
‘You know, she said something very strange, about how your father warned her about this situation, although I got the feeling she meant me specifically. Do you know what she meant?’
A flicker of some emotion passed over his face, though so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. ‘She was often quoting my father. I shouldn’t worry about it.’
‘Oh…’ She pressed her brows together, struck with the distinct impression there was something else he wasn’t telling her, something he didn’t want to tell her. ‘What will happen to them?’
‘They’ll each have a pension and a house on the estate. I’m not throwing them onto the street, but this has been a long time coming.’ He lowered his hand again. ‘It’s quite a strange feeling, to be honest, having free rein over my own property.’
‘I suppose it must be.’ She tilted her head. Now that his hand was gone, she found she wanted it back again. ‘But, just between us, it seems you’ve made the rest of the staff very happy, especially Mrs Hotham, the cook. Apparently she and Mrs Fitch have been arch enemies for the past decade.’
‘Then I shall expect a feast fit for a king tonight. And don’t worry. I’ll send word to my man of business in London for a new steward and housekeeper tomorrow.’
‘Good idea.’ She reached for the cue and leaned forward, taking aim at a red ball. ‘You know, I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I can’t help feeling glad too. Trying to have a conversation with Mrs Fitch was impossible. She disagreed with everything.’
‘Sewell too. They must have given each other tips on how to be obstructive.’ He nodded at the billiards table as her ball slammed into a pocket. ‘That was impressive. You’ve never told me you played.’
‘You’ve never asked.’ She was already lining up another shot.
‘Amabel and I used to sneak into her father’s billiards room to play.
It was just far enough away from the parlour that her mother couldn’t hear us.
’ She potted the second ball with a snap and then straightened up, aware of a sudden pang of sadness. ‘I still miss her.’
‘Amabel?’
‘Yes. Sometimes I think about writing to her, but I still wouldn’t know how to explain. And I wouldn’t know where to send the letter.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s my own fault. I was the one who betrayed her.’
‘Still…’ He lifted a shoulder, wanting to make her feel better somehow. ‘Maybe we should go out tomorrow?’
She blinked at the change of subject. ‘Out?’
‘Yes. It’s about time I gave you a tour of the estate. Then perhaps we can come up with some more ideas for improvements together?’
‘But the fair’s the day after tomorrow. Don’t we have things to organise?’
‘I doubt it. Knowing Mrs Fitch, everything’s already been taken care of.’
‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘Well, in that case, I’d love to.’
‘Good.’ He wrapped his hand around the top of the cue, still clutched in her hand. ‘Now, let’s have a real game, shall we?’