Chapter 7
Mr Fisk made his escape as soon as was possible, using their baggage as an excuse and giving the appearance of greatly disliking female company, but the young maid Lucy showed a disposition to linger and stare, and was only sent on her way by a sharp word from Mrs Pritty.
The housekeeper, who had also cooked for her late mistress in recent years, was a tall, imposing, grey-haired woman, and it did not take the sisters long to realise that her stiff manner owed more to embarrassment than any disdain for the newcomers.
‘Mrs Albery hated strangers,’ she told them bluntly.
‘Even when she no longer left her bedchamber, even when she could barely stand, she wouldn’t countenance having maids she didn’t know in the house to clean.
If she heard a noise that she couldn’t put a name to, she’d threaten to drag herself out of bed to see who was there.
I was always afraid she would, and it’d be the death of her, and all my fault.
I only got her to take Lucy on when the previous girl left by threatening to go myself.
Of course, I wouldn’t have – I’ve been with her since I was a slip of a lass – but she wasn’t quite sure of me and so she relented.
And because of it, most of the house is a disgrace.
Lucy and I have cleaned the hall, the parlour, the small dining room and four bedchambers, just till you decide which ones you want, but the rest of the place, the rooms that haven’t been used for years…
It’s shameful. You don’t need to tell me, for I know it well enough.
It was just too much for us to cope with. ’
‘I don’t think anybody could possibly blame you for that,’ Bea reassured her.
‘Of course a house like this requires far more servants. But we didn’t think it sensible to take any on in London and bring them with us.
To be plain with you, my mother cautioned us that they probably would be more trouble than they were worth, and in any case would not stay. ’
Mrs Pritty expressed her disapproval of London servants in a few well-chosen words, and began her tour of Albery Hall.
The greater part of it had, as she had warned, clearly not been used for ages.
She had taken down the internal shutters, or made her brother do so, to ensure that they could manage without a lamp, but the furniture – of which there was not a great deal in many of the chambers – was shrouded in holland covers, and some of the rooms had enough trailing cobwebs inside and ivy tapping at the small-paned windows outside to satisfy even a lover of the Gothic like Cecilia.
And this was in daylight. At night, even she was obliged to admit that it would pass from atmospheric into intimidating.
But it was a beautiful old house all the same.
The entrance hall had a lovely beamed and painted ceiling and a mighty fireplace; the small parlour Mrs Pritty suggested for their use was cosy, and – again – very much resembled their mother’s old sitting room in Surrey, which Augusta Constantine must have known as a child.
‘Will Mr Fisk be offended if we find some men to help him with the outside work?’ Bianca asked.
The room overlooked what once might have been a knot garden, but bushes had encroached so close to the window that the view was greatly obscured.
‘Just as inside the house, one person could never be expected to keep everything in order out there.’
‘He’d be delighted, Miss Bianca,’ was the dry response.
‘My brother thinks that at his age, he’s earned a more supervisory sort of a situation; he is a fair bit older than me, it’s true.
He’d like nothing better than bossing some hulking great lads about and telling them all they’re doing wrong.
I hope you understand, we didn’t have the authority to employ anyone… ’
‘Of course we do,’ Cecilia said. ‘And I hope you understand, Mrs Pritty, that we didn’t so much as know that Mrs Albery existed until we got the letter from Mr Cotwin.
We’ve been worried that people will think we neglected her for years and now come swanning in to inherit everything like a family of…
of vultures. It’s an uncomfortable sort of a position to be in.
We’re wearing black – it seemed respectful – but it would be very easy to call us hypocrites. ’
The housekeeper laughed. ‘Well, I know that’s not true, for one, miss.
Mrs Albery used to chuckle over it: the idea of surprising you.
She had a very peculiar sense of humour, she always did, and the things she’d say…
I used to tell her that if she thought you were all so deserving of help, why didn’t she do something sooner to make your lives better, as she could easily have afforded to do?
But she wouldn’t have it. It would do her good to have young people about the place, and family too, I said, but no.
She was happy as she was, with just a couple of visitors, till she got so sick and wouldn’t see even them, and happy in her own odd way to know you’d have some freedom and independence when she was gone.
There was no arguing with her when she’d set her mind on something.
Folks round here know how eccentric she was, don’t you worry.
She’s given some of them the sharp side of her tongue in her day, I promise you. ’
‘That is a relief – thank you for telling us,’ Beatrice said warmly.
‘Miss Macintyre says they’ll call on us first – the local ladies.
Do you think they will? I suppose you know them all, as you have been at Albery House so long.
’ They were climbing the stairs now, and it was darker here, with the doors of the chambers closed above them and the one tall window halfway up the staircase also partly obscured by rampant foliage.
‘You can be sure of it. Mrs Bartrum will call, after leaving you for a few days to let you get yourselves straight. And that Miss Pallant, I expect, and Lady Synett maybe, the Viscountess, though she’s very grand and haughty in her ways and doesn’t come into Suffolk much.
There are a few others, too: the vicar’s wife, Mrs Drinkwater, for one.
’ If she had opinions of these ladies apart from Lady Synett, and she must, Cecilia could not divine much of them from her words or manner.
Miss Macintyre had been quiet until now, deferring with her usual tact and good sense to the fact that this was not her house nor her first encounter with a most important employee, but she put in, as they reached the landing, ‘The Misses Constantine will rely on you for guidance there, Mrs Pritty. Social conventions are no doubt outdated and to be deplored, but young unmarried ladies who come unprepared into a new area where they hope to make their home cannot afford to disregard them and keep their reputations intact. I am standing in the position of a mother to my former charges, and yet I have no idea on whom it is proper for us to call and on whom it is not. When visitors send up their cards, you will have to tell us what we need to know about them, if indeed you feel comfortable doing so.’
‘That I will, miss. I can tell you what Mrs Albery thought of them, and – for it might not be the same – what I think myself, and how they stand in the neighbourhood.’
There were several doors opening on to the landing at the top of the stairs, and corridors leading off into each wing of the house.
Mr Fisk had left their baggage in a heap on one side, and Mrs Pritty said now, ‘It’s all bedchambers up here, and small sitting rooms, with no need for explanation.
At least the roof is in good order; that’s one mercy.
There’s nothing but attics above us, but they’re sound and dry.
If you won’t mind, ladies, I will leave you to choose which rooms you’d like to have.
Of course it needn’t be permanent, but just for now, these four doors here lead to the ones that we’ve been able to clean and make up.
Now I’ve dinner to cook, and I daresay you will care for some tea when you have unpacked, after your long journey. ’
They offered to help, but were emphatically refused, so they thanked her, and she set off down the stairs to her own domain, which they had not yet seen.
‘We’ll have to sit down with her tomorrow,’ worried Bea once she had gone, ‘and work out just how many servants we need and how we are to go about finding them. We can’t have her and Lucy and Fisk working themselves to death for us, even if Aunt Augusta didn’t mind it.’
‘We will,’ said Cecilia, almost dancing upon the spot.
‘Of course we will. But just now, we can choose our bedrooms. A thing which – am I wrong? – none of us has ever done before. Isn’t it exciting?
I think you should go first, though, Miss Macintyre.
Then if we run about in a hoydenish fashion shrieking, as you know we will despite all your excellent training, it shall not bother you as much as it otherwise might.
We can carry your trunk in for you, and then abandon ourselves to pure self-indulgence. ’