CHAPTER FOUR
Having made her momentous decision, Louisa found herself making many more, and of a more practical nature.
The interview with Leece was not of long duration, not least because she was not sure what questions to ask, and it was more an opportunity to speak with him and make a character assessment as best she could.
Whilst she was familiar with his presence, their interaction had, naturally, always been very limited.
Servants did not engage one in conversation.
Butlers were on a slightly different level, and the wise employer listened to their butler upon household matters.
He was clearly keen, and was full of assurances on details about which she rarely thought, from the care of the wine cellar to the frequency with which the silver would be polished.
‘The monetary situation with regards to the inheritance is such that you need not fear having insufficient monies to pay for the work, my lady, and thereafter to still retain enough for modest renovations to the interior. The residue, and I sincerely hope that there will be one, combined with your income from your late husband’s provision for you, and that from the estate, will enable you to live comfortably. ’
Reassured that she was not going to be, as her mama put it, reduced to ‘living off cabbages and burning tallow candles’, Louisa waited, receiving weekly reports from Mr Herne, whom she secretly felt was rather enjoying overseeing the project, though it took longer than she had expected.
As it turned out, the prospect that greeted him on a rather hot August afternoon was one of industry, which pleased him, and of a house that sat comfortably within its environment.
He had seen houses that looked as if planted there by some erratic giant, and that were alien to their surroundings.
Elliston Court was not like that at all.
It had enough grandeur, but not too much, though its neat front lawns were currently the preserve of young women, and several burly men, bearing carpets and carpet beaters.
Surveying them all from the pathway was a dark-garbed figure, who must be the housekeeper.
He alighted from the carriage, sending the baggage round to the back of the house.
The straight path was, in his mind, the preserve of the family and guests, but on this one occasion he trod upon the weed-free gravel to present himself to the housekeeper.
She looked at him, wondering for a moment. He was not what she had expected.
‘Good afternoon. Mrs Knowle?’ He removed his hat, and made her a small bow.
‘I am Mr Leece, her ladyship’s butler.’ He had tried various introductions over and over in his head during the journey and ‘I am the new butler’ was too accurate and less commanding.
At least his training had taught him the cadences and tone of being a butler.
There were a whole range of ways in which to say ‘Very good, my lady.’ At this juncture he essayed, ‘What an impressive residence, and I am delighted to see that preparations for her ladyship’s arrival are clearly going well. ’
50Mrs Knowle concealed her astonishment and dipped a curtsey in response.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Leece. If you will follow me, I will take you within, and introduce you to Mrs Newby, the cook. I will have all the other staff gathered when they have finished the carpet beating.’
‘Of course.’
She sounded competent, unlikely to become flustered, and not at all the motherly type. The reverse was true of Mrs Newby, the cook, whose first question was when he had last had a decent meal. She made it sound as though his answer would be ‘several weeks’, not ‘breakfast’.
The servants’ wing, which would be his preserve, was on the east side of the house.
It ran back from a cross passage that had an entry to a parlour that had originally been the kitchen, but that had long ago been transformed into a very pleasing east-facing room, clearly much used and with a homely air.
He failed Mrs Newby by not being able to give any definitive list of her ladyship’s personal dislikes or favourite dishes, except that he recalled she disliked scallops, but Mrs Knowle made a thorough check of all the vases upon hearing that her ladyship was very keen on flowers in the house, according to season.
When this was passed on to the head gardener, it made his day.
When his mistress arrived two days later, Leece was able to introduce the staff without a single hesitation, and with the appearance of one who knew the house and its workings inside out. It was a remarkably good act.
51Louisa had spent the last hour of the journey in increasing trepidation.
She had memories of Elliston Court, but what if they had been distorted by time?
Would she take one look and know she had made a huge mistake?
As the carriage turned in to the estate, past an elderly but upright gatekeeper, she saw a lad haring across the sheep-cropped field that placed the house at a suitable distance from the Frome to Bath road.
He was clearly giving early warning of her arrival, and by the time the horses came to a halt, a line of figures had been organised on the gravel before the mellow red brick of the house itself.
The wide front door, which had a pleasing pediment and fanlight above it, was reached by means of several shallow steps.
The facade was symmetrical, with two tall windows to each side, and on the upper floor a fifth narrow window was placed centrally.
It was sufficiently imposing, but small enough to be a home where every part was used on a daily basis.
She heaved a sigh of relief as the steps of the carriage were set down.
‘Good afternoon, Leece.’ She looked at the butler, her butler.
‘Good afternoon, my lady. I trust you had a comfortable journey. May I be so bold as to welcome you to your new home?’
‘Thank you, I did, and you may. How nice to see it in sunshine too. Pouring rain could make the most pleasant of houses look unappealing.’ She had first seen Dembleby’s ancestral seat on a wet November afternoon, half enveloped in damp mist.
He introduced the staff, first the outside retainers, and 52then those who worked within the house itself.
‘Mrs Goodworth is due to arrive this evening, my lady, and the pony and trap will be sent to The Angel in Frome to meet the Bath to Weymouth stage.’
Louisa hid a smile. He was trying so hard to sound sufficiently butler-like that she was sure he was counting a beat between words to keep the timing funereal.
‘Thank you. I do not think she will wish to dine after a long day’s travel, but please warn Cook to be ready to provide her with a supper.
I would like to refresh myself after the journey, and will then take a tour of the house.
No, actually, I would like tea, in my bedchamber, and as soon as possible.
That will revive me. Sitting within a carriage ought not to be so exhausting, but it is. ’
‘Certainly, my lady. I was unsure which of the two front bedchambers your ladyship might select, but have had the beds made up in both.’
‘Goodness me, yes. I had not even considered that. Let us go upstairs immediately and make a decision.’ She followed him up the fine oak staircase.
The two front bedchambers were very similar in size, although one possessed a dressing room, and, although its décor and outmoded furnishings showed it had been her godmama’s bedchamber, Louisa selected it without any hesitation.
As Leece bowed himself out of the room, she sat upon the bed, and let out a great sigh of relief.
‘Thank you, Godmama,’ she whispered. ‘We will be happy here.’
At which point her maid, Brook, entered with the information that a can of hot water would be with her in 53a trice, and Miss Emily was being entertained with a ball upon the lawn, Betty not knowing which chamber would be designated as the nursery.
‘Oh dear. I ought to have thought to decide that also. It is strange having such a blank canvas upon which to create a home. I will decide once I feel less travel stained, and have been revived with tea. I suppose I should also designate Mrs Goodworth’s bedchamber, so that it can be prepared for tonight.
’ She sighed. ‘I do hope we get on well.’
Mrs Hetty Goodworth was a connection of Lady Felmersham’s, the relict of a parson who had most unfortunately been found dead in his study, slumped over a half-completed sermon for evensong, leaving his widow in straitened circumstances, and having to vacate the rectory to make way for the next incumbent.
She was a childless lady in her late forties and had spent the last two years as the unwanted addition to the household of her eldest brother.
When Louisa had determined to ‘live all alone’, Lady Felmersham had bethought herself of ‘poor Cousin Hetty’.
Louisa had no recollection of ever meeting the woman, but since Mama clung to the thought of her as her daughter’s companion the way a drowning man clings to a floating branch, she had agreed.
The letter she had received from Mrs Goodworth had been fulsome in its gratitude, and Louisa did not feel it indicated a lady who was going to even attempt to influence her decisions, which was a relief.
She hoped that they would get on well, and that, never having had children of her own, she would be kindly disposed towards a toddler exploring both the world, and its boundaries.