Chapter Three
Hattie wasn’t sure she was even walking.
Her limbs tingled at the opulence and luxury surrounding her.
Was this even real? The soft pastels of the hallways and the glimpses into lush, wallpapered sitting and reading rooms with their fine pillows and sofas as she walked past reflected the kind of wealth she had only heard of in tales told or those fantastical stories she read about in books.
Her skirts made a delightful swish on the polished, dark-wooden floors as she moved, and gentle light cascaded through the numerous windows.
Family portraits and tasteful landscapes hung in graceful and precise intervals along the corridors as Hattie followed the housekeeper, whose name she had already forgotten, to wherever it was she was taking her
Drat. Why had she not paid better attention?
When she was nervous it was hard to hold anything in her head.
At least she had not forgotten His Grace’s name or to curtsy.
Ophelia would be proud of her. Hattie pulled back her shoulders and smiled.
She was proud of herself, too. She had travelled from Stow alone, except for the kind driver, Eddie, and now she was beginning her new post as a governess for a duke.
It was a long way from her humble beginnings in the orphanage.
A door squeaked open as she walked past and Hattie turned back, catching a glimpse of a little girl who looked to be about five or six years old with a sweet cherub face, dark ringlets and wide blue eyes.
The moment the little girl realised Hattie had seen her, she jumped back into her room and shut the door.
Hattie smiled and felt a flutter of excitement.
That must be her new charge. She could hardly wait to meet her.
While Hattie might not be the most attuned to the ways of proper Society and the people within it, she knew and understood children, especially nervous or scared ones. She’d been one most of her life.
The housekeeper stopped suddenly and Hattie nearly ran into her back. Hattie recovered and chuckled when the woman studied her with a curious glance. ‘Apologies,’ Hattie muttered, clutching her reticule. ‘It is absolutely beautiful here. I have never seen such finery. I was distracted.’
The woman smiled and winked at her. ‘Wait until you see your chambers, Miss Potts.’ She opened the door wide and Hattie’s mouth gaped open. She sighed aloud.
‘This is where you will be staying while you are here, so you will be close to Lady Millie if she needs you,’ the housekeeper explained.
‘Here?’ Hattie asked, taking in the soft gold, white and buttercream surroundings. ‘Isn’t that quite unusual? I had expected to stay below stairs in the servants’ quarters.’ She couldn’t hide her confusion.
The housekeeper smiled. ‘You will find that we are a rather unorthodox household, Miss. His Grace encourages a more informal exchange between his servants, although we always respect his standing, of course. Such ease has long been the way with the Sutherland family. With the Marchioness’s passing last year, His Grace has encouraged it even more in hopes of creating a more loving and warmer atmosphere for Lady Millie as she grieves the loss of her mother and grandfather.
We are more like family than servants here at Blithe Manor, Miss Potts. ’
‘Oh my,’ Hattie continued, uncertain what to say. She stared into the room again. She couldn’t believe she would be staying here. ‘I may never wish to leave, then.’ The room reminded her of daffodils blooming in spring. It was simply the most glorious room she had ever seen.
‘It is beautiful, isn’t it? It was the late Duchess’s, the current Duke’s mother,’ she explained, beaming with pride.
‘She made it her haven and decorated it herself many years ago. It has been almost ten years since she passed, but we keep this room up just the same. His Grace hoped you would enjoy the room. Said it was time to make use of it again and he wanted you to be nearby Millie, too.’
‘That is very kind. Thank you.’
‘I wish the late Duchess could have known her granddaughter. They would have adored one another.’ There was a sadness in the woman’s voice that Hattie understood immediately: grief.
Hattie’s smile evaporated. ‘I am so sorry,’ she replied. ‘You must still miss her.’
A flicker of surprise passed through the older woman’s features and her pale grey eyes softened. ‘Very much so,’ she said.
‘I find the time that has passed since they’ve gone doesn’t always matter, does it? You miss them all the same.’
The housekeeper studied her another moment before nodding. ‘Yes, Miss Potts. I agree.’ She walked further into the chamber and Hattie followed.
The room was larger than the living space she, Ophelia and Trudy had shared for most of their childhood in the orphanage.
Hattie wished her dear friends were here.
Ophelia would swoon at the glorious furnishings and Trudy would plant herself in one of those sitting rooms and read for days.
Hattie could hardly believe this opportunity was hers.
She bit her bottom lip, so she didn’t squeal aloud in delight.
Even if this was only for a fortnight and His Grace decided not to keep her on, she would savour every moment of it and excel in every task so she could at least earn a recommendation to provide her the opportunity for a more permanent placement elsewhere.
Then perhaps this could be the future they all led far away from Stow.
Finally, they could become the people they were meant to be, not the unfortunate orphans everyone saw them as.
Hattie looked up at the housekeeper, who stared at her in expectation.
Dash it all. She had been woolgathering again. ‘Yes?’ Hattie asked, reminding herself not to fidget and pretending she had not missed the housekeeper’s enquiry entirely.
‘Is there anything else I should have sent up for you?’
‘No. Everything is quite lovely. Thank you,’ said Hattie.
‘There is a small basin and cloth in the bathroom,’ Mrs Chisholm added, pointing to a small door off to the left of the chambers they stood in. ‘We can also arrange a bath for you this eve if you wish.’
My own bath? Hattie pinched her wrist and the sting reminded her she wasn’t dreaming.
‘Once you have had a moment, please join His Grace in his study, which is back downstairs and to your left. We are happy to have you here, Miss Potts.’
Hattie nodded, wishing she could have remembered the woman’s name. You must pay better attention, Hattie. She could hear Ophelia’s voice in her head.
She would. As soon as the door closed, Hattie rushed over to the bed, sprawled out on it and squealed into a pillow.
After she shrieked once more in delight, she flipped over on her back and lay still, marvelling over the lush comfort of the bed and the beauty of the ceilings and ornately carved moulding.
Then she realised she was still wearing her dirty travelling clothes and jumped off immediately.
She had no wish to stain the floral bedcover.
She also needed to make herself presentable. There was the Duke of Wimberley to meet with after all.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to be done in the way of refreshing, as the stains from her travels were many, but Hattie touched up her dress, hair, and face as best she could.
She didn’t wish to change and waste a clean dress to meet His Grace again, especially when he had already seen her in her less-than-pristine gown upon her arrival and only a handful of hours remained in the day.
She’d brought only two other gowns in her small trunk and she needed to save them.
Who knew how long it would take for her to scrub down this dress, so it could be worn again in a few days’ time?
But she had washed her face, brushed out her hair after removing her bonnet and smoothed it into a stylish chignon at the nape of her neck with a few draping curls that fell around her face.
While she wasn’t skilled enough to weave the silk bandeau Ophelia had gifted her back into place on her own, Hattie was proud of her efforts.
Walking down the gentle, curving stairs, she soaked in the full opulence of Blithe Manor as she looked out of the large, numerous windows.
While it was not within the city of London, the estate was on its outskirts and incredibly beautiful with its lush, colourful gardens, emerald lawns, nearby lake and long winding drive.
The house itself was also remarkable. It was clear that His Grace and those before him maintained it with great care and his servants seemed devoted to the family they served if the housekeeper was any indication.
She reached the hall and turned to the left, slowing her pace.
She came to a halt as she realised how long the hallway was and how many rooms there were.
How would she know which one was His Grace’s study?
Some of the doors to the rooms were open while other rooms were closed.
This was a problem. One she never would have anticipated until this very moment.
She peered around the first open door frame.
It looked to be a receiving room with its sofas and chairs all around a central table and rolling fire.
No one was inside. She released a sigh and kept going.
The room across the hall was very masculine and had bookcases that went from the floor to the ceiling.
Lord above. Poor Trudy would have fainted straight away and then immediately righted herself to begin perusing the books of this library.
Evidently, the reading room Hattie had spied upstairs was only a glimpse of the enormous number of books housed at the Manor.
There was even a ladder one could use to reach the books on the higher shelves.
She almost squealed. Who could have ever imagined such luxury?
‘Do you enjoy reading?’