Chapter 1 #2
The kitchen garden supplied everything else and not only did they eat well so did the staff and their families.
Mama had once showed her a periodical in which it explained that wealthy families sat down to a dozen or more dishes all laid out on the table at once, not to mention side dishes, desserts, fruit, and nuts as well.
The carriage horses had gone when Mama had died, as had the three ponies she and her sisters had loved to ride. There were still two riding horses in the depleted stable, and since her father had become unwell a few months ago, Sofia had taken it upon herself to exercise them every day.
In this house they had three courses in the evening, just one at breakfast and at luncheon. Tonight, there was a delicious vegetable broth, followed by chicken pie and fresh garden vegetables. For dessert they had strawberries, and cream from their own dairy.
'I think it gluttony that rich families expect to eat a royal banquet every night. I can't imagine that their elaborate and wasteful dinner will be as delicious as our simple fare,' Sofia suddenly announced.
'My dear girl,' Aunt Jemima said sharply. 'Do not pronounce judgement upon something about which you know absolutely nothing.'
'I beg your pardon, ma'am, for demonstrating my ignorance about such matters.' It was always wise to apologise to their aunt even when not in the wrong. Sofia waited until the maid who served their meal had left the dining room before continuing.
'Forgive me, there are things that I must share with all of you.'
She then proceeded to tell them about the dire state of the family finances and then continued with what she intended to do to remedy the situation.
'I've asked Mrs Chalmers to open all the drapes as soon as the coffin is removed first thing tomorrow morning.
As ladies are not encouraged to attend a funeral our father will be buried without mourners.
The vicar has agreed to say a few words over the grave and then we must continue as if he is still with us. '
She waited for Lucille to protest – if anyone was going to object to this unusual set of circumstances it would be her youngest sister. To her surprise they all agreed, even their aunt.
'As we haven't contacted the undertakers or sent notice to the newspaper, I think it might be some time before the outside world is aware of his demise,' Aunt Jemima said.
'Eventually the bank will discover the true state of affairs here, but it should give us a few weeks, maybe months, grace before we are destitute. '
'Thank you, it might seem callous, but my concern is for the living not the dead.
They no longer need our help. Colette and I will start looking in earnest for employment in Bath.
I shall continue my search for the missing will – if I could find this document then we might discover that our father appointed a guardian, a gentleman who can pay off the debts and allow us to live our lives in comfort. '
Aunt Jemima snorted inelegantly. 'I think that highly unlikely, Sofia, but I do dimly recall there having been a wealthy branch of this Brotherton family. My nephew cut himself off from his family when he married your mother so there's been no interaction over the past years.'
Lucille clapped her hands. 'A wealthy Brotherton? How are we to discover him without alerting those that we owe money to?'
'There is one simple solution, but I doubt that you will agree with me, Sofia,' Colette said.
'If we announce the death, of course the bank will contact us, but so should the legal firm who deals with Brotherton affairs.
Then, if there is such a gentleman he will eventually hear that he now has distant relatives to take care of. '
Her sister had made a valid point. 'There's a distinct possibility that the bank could step in immediately and evict us, sell the house from under us before this wealthy relative could step in and stop this.'
There was a murmur of agreement around the table. Even their argumentative aunt was nodding vigorously.
'Then we're in agreement. Remember, it's not just us who will be homeless but the people we employ and their families. Better the sword of Damocles remains dangling overhead than it drops immediately.'
Lucille looked puzzled but the other two smiled at her analogy.
Less than two weeks after the demise of their parent, Sofia was travelling on the coach to Bath. She had with her only a battered portmanteau, no trunk was strapped to the rear of the vehicle.
The city was twenty miles distance from their home at Laycock, and she was to become companion not to an elderly lady but to a girl of seventeen.
Miss Annabel Sinclair was considered too old for a governess but not ready to be presented.
The young lady and her numerous family lived in one of the large houses recently built.
Aunt Jemima had produced a trunk of expensive garments, silks, satins, and fine cotton lawn, no longer wearable as they were but with more than enough material to be used to sew both Sofia and Colette a new wardrobe.
Between them they'd constructed two pretty bonnets lined with material that matched or complemented her three new ensembles. Sofia dipped her head to hide her smile. She'd never been so well-dressed, felt so grand, could almost believe herself to be a lady in her new finery.
She smoothed the soft cotton material of her blue pelisse; it contrasted wonderfully with the lighter blue of the gown she wore beneath it.
This fitted snugly under her bosom and then fell loosely to just below her ankles.
Being so free of the voluminous skirts and inconvenient undergarments of her previous attire was a revelation.
She was considered by her sisters to be a beanpole, unfashionably tall, so this new style of gown suited her much better.
Her sisters had chosen this particular colour as they said it was perfect with her dark hair and exactly the same colour as her blue eyes.
In order to maintain the mirage of being from a wealthy home she had to remember to keep her boots hidden beneath the hem of her gown.
Real ladies would have half-boots that matched their outfit.
Even the uncomfortable journey in the stagecoach was a novel experience and she revelled in every minute of it. This was the first time she'd travelled from Laycock and she intended to enjoy every moment.
After three hours of bumps and jolts the vehicle rocked to a standstill.
The coach had made its way through the Walcott turnpike and arrived at last at the Post Office, adjacent to the Abbey, the Roman Baths, and the Pump Room.
There were chairmen and porters eagerly waiting to take those descending from the coach to either the White Hart or the York Hotel which her aunt had told her were by far the best inns in Bath.
The door opened and the steps were let down and Sofia stepped out, eyes wide, gazing around in awe at the magnificent buildings, the smart pedestrians and even smarter carriages drawn by matching teams.
Quickly she moved to one side to allow the other passengers to disembark. She was immediately hailed by a uniformed servant – as they didn't employ any at home, she wasn't altogether certain if the man was a coachman or a footman.
'Miss Brotherton, allow me to take your bag. The Sinclair carriage awaits.'
She nodded regally; she'd been well schooled in how to behave in polite company. Although they were on familiar terms with their servants at Hilltop House her aunt had drilled it into her that if she wanted to be respected, have her instructions followed, then she must remain aloof.
The young man, about her height, nodded and pointed to a smart Landau pulled by four matching bays, on the far side of the large courtyard of the hostelry. They were standing patiently, and the coachman was sitting on his box watching her arrival.
She couldn't help herself. 'What a stunning team, I particularly like bays although my father preferred greys.'
This compliment was received with a grin. 'These aren't the best in the stables, miss, you'll see when we get there.'
The conversation was established so it was too late to retract. 'What am I to call you?'
'I'm Jethro, undergroom. We'd better get moving, the master doesn't take kindly to being kept waiting not by no one.'
He opened the door of the carriage, kicked down the steps and she climbed in. The interior was as immaculate as the exterior. She thanked God that the family had been able to provide her with ensembles that wouldn't make her look out of place.