Chapter 9
THE ENTAIL
When Cecilia came down the stairs after changing from her time at the clay mine, she found two footmen struggling to carry out a large, heavy table from the drawing room.
“I can’t see as ’ow we’re to get this up the staff stairs to the attic,” she overheard one man say to the other.
“Then don’t,” Cecilia declared.
“Wot?” one of the footmen said as he dropped his end of the table.
“Jeffrey,” protested the other footman. He set his end of the table on the floor.
“Beg pardon, milady,” Jeffrey said. “Did you need something? Mrs. Duggleston told Craig and me to get this table out of the drawing room.”
“And I’m sure that is one of many pieces.”
“Aye.”
“Is there another room on this floor you might take the table to?” she asked. “Temporarily? You will spend an inordinate amount of time trying to dispose of this table in the attic.”
Jeffrey scratched the side of his head. “I don’t know rightly…”
“What about the old music room?” Craig suggested.
“The music room?” Jeffrey repeated.
“Yes. It were cleaned out fer the coroner when the old earl died.”
“There’s a might of chairs in there,” Jeffrey protested.
“We push those aside there be plenty of space fer the furniture Mrs. Duggleston wants out of the fancy room.”
“Where is this music room?” Cecilia asked.
Jeffrey pointed to white double doors down the hall beyond the stairs.
Cecilia followed where he pointed and pushed on stubborn, almost stuck double doors to open. A pianoforte stood at the far end of the dusty room before sagging, dust and spider-web filled drapes. While the drawing room might have been maintained over the years, this room had not.
Armless padded chairs in messy rows filled the room. The space smelled of dust, but blessedly not of mold.
“Yes, you should have enough room here if you stack the chairs and push them all to the side. Do that, then stack the chairs and bring in the table. I will tell Mrs. Duggleston so she will not be upset with you doing so.”
“Yes, milady.”
“Thank you, milady,” the men said.
Cecilia got out of their way, then went to the drawing room to see what had been done so far.
She was pleasantly surprised. The old red drapes had already been taken down and replaced with cream-colored drapes held back with the red cords that had held back the previous drapes.
Gold and cream cushions had been added to some of the settees and armchairs.
A rolled-up carpet waited to be laid across the dark red patterned rug before the fireplace, and various pictures had been taken down, leaning up against the walls waiting to be removed and replaced.
Mrs. Duggleston stood, arms akimbo, in the middle of the room, looking about.
“Marcia,” she called out to the maid positioning some more pillows.
“I think if you go upstairs to the countess’s chamber and look in a drawer at the base of the armoire, you can find a large shawl in gold and red.
Fetch that please and let’s see how that looks draped over the back of the settee. ”
“You’ve done a wonderful job in here in a short amount of time!” Cecilia enthused.
Mrs. Duggleston turned toward her, smiling. “Yes. It has turned out splendidly. It has been a whole staff project.”
“I know. I saw two of your footmen struggling with a heavy table. I hope you don’t mind, but I directed them to take it to the old music room. I thought that would be faster than trying to get that ugly heavy table upstairs to the attic.”
Mrs. Duggleston laughed. “Ugly! The old earl liked that piece.”
“If he liked it then he should have taken it to the grave with him,” Cecilia retorted.
Mrs. Duggleston laughed again. “Gracious, my lady, but I do like how you think, if you will forgive me for saying so.”
“What else are you planning to remove?”
“Those chairs,” she said, pointing to two chairs with very straight backs and arms with pointed tops.
“Umm, yes. They look like thrones without all the gilt.”
“And some more of the tables. I have no idea what they needed so many heavy tables for,” she said, shaking her head.
“Where did the carpet come from?” Cecilia asked.
“From Lady Norcroft. She thought if we placed it here before the fireplace, it would perhaps center the room more toward the cream and gold I’ve been trying to achieve.”
“That was kind of her.”
“Kind or cagey,” Mrs. Duggleston said, side-eyeing Cecilia.
Cecilia laughed. “All right, I’ll ask. What do you mean?”
“I think she’d like to see a match between her sister and his lordship.”
“Gideon and Miss Nieves? Oh no. I don’t see that. I think she has someone else in mind for Lord Monteith. Besides, it would bring Mrs. Norcroft and her managing ways too much here to Pomum,” Cecilia said.
“And Miss Nieves is too tall,” Mrs. Duggleston said.
“There is that, but if he wants to find a woman of his height or shorter he might stay unwed his entire life.”
“Truthfully, I don’t think he would object to a woman taller than himself. His first wife was taller, from my memory of the one time she was here with her mother before she and Lord Monteith were married.”
“Oh?” Cecilia said, prompting her to continue.
“It was not a pleasant visit for her, the poor woman. She and her mother were quiet and timid women, awed by Pomum Court and intimidated by the old earl and his ways. She stood no more than your height, my lady.”
Cecilia privately acknowledged that she was much shorter than most women.
She barely brushed five feet. Sometimes she wondered how James even became attracted to her, with their difference in height.
He stood more than a foot taller than she.
But that difference was perfect for snuggling, Cecilia thought with a smile.
They heard the heavy front door open downstairs.
“That is probably my husband and the earl,” Cecilia said, heading toward the door.
“Would you like to have tea served in this room, my lady?”
Cecilia cocked her head. “Yes, I think that is a good idea. Give us a chance to get the feel of the room with the replacement furniture, and if we want to do anything else. Shall we say at four?” Cecilia asked.
“Very good. We should be done with moving furniture by then, too.”
Cecilia nodded and went out of the room to the head of the stairs.
“You weren’t there long,” she said to them as they started up the stairs.
“Just until Mr. Thornbridge arrived,” her husband said. “After we get changed shall we meet in the estate room to discuss our observations?”
“Yes, that is a good private place to meet,” Gideon said.
“But at four o’clock, we must come upstairs to the drawing room for tea. The staff has been doing what they can to fix the drawing room so it does not look as sad as it has,” Cecilia said.
“Sad?” Gideon asked.
“Faded, old, dated,” James said.
“Does it?”
“Your taste resides only in your mouth, cousin,” James said dryly.
Cecilia was before the men in the estate room.
She went over to the window and looked down the gently sloping hill toward the orchard.
Everything looked peaceful today. Most of the apple flowers had already spent themselves; however, here and there she saw the telltale sign of a bloom against the greening leaves.
Someone had opened the gate to the orchard, for a few cows were finding fresh grass among the trees, others were making their way over there.
If that was another deliberate act of mischief, it wasn’t damaging this time of year as it would be when the trees were full of ripe apples.
Could it be another message? Or could there be a message there?
She quickly turned around and left the estate room. “Marcia,” she called out to the first staff person she saw. She was carrying a load of fresh linens. “The cows are in the orchard. We need someone to chase them out and check to see if any message has been left there for his lordship.”
The maid turned pale. “I’m afraid of cows.”
“I heard you, Lady Branstoke,” Craig the footman, who’d been moving furniture said. He was coming through a servant’s door at the end of the hall. “I’ll do it.”
Marcia scurried on to her task.
“Go out the terrace door, Craig. I will lock it behind you so be sure to come back through the servant’s entry.”
“Yes, mum.” The footman turned about and went to the door, Cecilia behind him. She watched him lope down the hill toward the orchard.
“Cecilia?” she heard James coming down the hall behind her. “Is something going on?”
“Possibly…probably,” she amended. She walked toward him. “The orchard gate is open, and cows are indulging in the grass there.”
“The gate is open?”
“What gate?” Gideon asked coming down the hall to meet them in the estate room.
“The orchard gate,” Cecilia said again. “Much to the cows’ delight.”
Gideon frowned.
“Your footman, Craig, has gone down to get the cows out of the orchard and to look to see if there is another message waiting for you down there.”
“Did you send him?”
“Yes, I did.”
Gideon breathed in deeply. “Good.”
They went into the estate room. Gideon climbed into his chair.
James pushed his stool closer to him before taking his seat.
Cecilia walked back to the window to watch the footman.
He’d reached the farthest cow. He pushed her shoulder toward the gate, then from behind, began waving his arms. The cows slowly moved away from him toward the gate.
He walked back and forth behind the cows in the orchard, continuing to wave his arms. When the first cow went back through the gate to their meadow, the others, being herd animals, followed. She smiled.
“I can tell your footman is used to handling cows. He’s got them going back to where they belong.”
She saw him pull the gate closed. He stood for several moments by the gate latch. She wondered if it was broken. When he’d finished, he turned back to the house, a piece of paper in his hands. “I would say you are about to receive another message,” she told Gideon.
Gideon grunted. “To be expected.”