bustled in, and now stood sniffing.
‘Still a trifle musty. Hasn’t been used for ever so long this room. I’ve kept it aired, but there’s little a body can do when everything in the house is as old as Queen Anne. Have you blankets enough, Miss Faraday? We’ve plenty of those at least, whatever else is scarce.’
Nell immediately expressed her satisfaction with her allotted quarters. ‘Indeed, I have nothing wanting, I believe, bar an impatience to meet with Miss Jarrow and begin upon my duties.’
A look of distress passed over Mrs Whyte’s plump features. ‘The poor little mite! Though she’s well enough this morning, Duggan tells me.’
Then the housekeeper clearly knew what had happened last night. Nell smiled. ‘Then the sooner I begin the better.’
‘We’ll hope it will be for the better.’ The woman fetched a sigh, and then shrugged away her clouded brow, smiling again. ‘But that’s for later. I’ll leave you to your toilet, ma’am. When you’re ready, knock on that wall and I’ll hear you, for my chamber is next door andI’ve yet to make the bed. The gentlemen like to get off early, so I do their breakfast first.’
Consternation caught at Nell. She crossed quickly to the bedside cabinet, taking up the essential pocket watch that had been Mrs Duxford’s parting gift to her.
‘It is past ten! Heavens, I must have been more tired than I thought!’ She turned quickly to the housekeeper.
‘I do apologize for having inconvenienced you, Mrs Whyte.’
Moving to the door, the older woman tutted. ‘You haven’t at all. A body couldn’t blame you for sleeping a little longer on your first day. So much to take in—and not all of it pleasant, I’ll be bound!’
None of it pleasant, Nell might have said. Assuring the housekeeper that she would not dawdle, she closed the door behind her and began swiftly to strip off her night attire.
The ordinary domesticity of the kitchens did much to raise Nell’s mood. Refusing to increase Mrs Whyte’s burden, she had opted to accompany her and eat below stairs rather than await breakfast in solitary state in the dining parlour.
‘You must have quite enough to do, and why in the world should we stand upon ceremony? Lord Jarrow assured me that you are informal here, and I should much prefer to take breakfast in your company, Mrs Whyte.’
The housekeeper had been touchingly grateful. ‘Well, it would suit better, Miss Faraday, and that’s a fact. There’s no gainsaying it’s a toil, whether you come through the hall or use them horrid winding stairs in the turret. Can’t abide ’em myself, which is why I use the proper stairs, longer though it is. And Mr Keston, the dear, has gone in my stead with Grig to the farm, foryou can’t trust that noddy on his own. Bound to bring back the wrong joints, and let himself be swindled into the bargain! There’s no depending on Farmer Tuffley not to take advantage, for he’s as sly as they come, and when you’ve to watch every penny, you can’t be too careful.’
Following in her wake as she led the way, Nell had found these artless disclosures intensely aggravating to her burning curiosity. It was with difficulty that she prevented herself from pelting the housekeeper with questions. While the elder lady prepared, she seated herself out of the way to wait, smoothing the petticoats of her working gown of dyed calico—one of several that she had fashioned in the modest style befitting her station, with sleeves to the wrist and a wrapover bodice made high to the neck. This one was of dull bronze, but its cut, Nell flattered herself, was yet fashionable, the waist riding below her bosom.
Her discretion was rewarded once Mrs Whyte had supplied her with a generous meal. Carving several slices from a fine ham, she had thrown them to warm on to a griddle placed across the great range that spread heat throughout the kitchen quarters. Apologising for the lack of eggs—a supply of which were to be
‘Still a trifle musty. Hasn’t been used for ever so long this room. I’ve kept it aired, but there’s little a body can do when everything in the house is as old as Queen Anne. Have you blankets enough, Miss Faraday? We’ve plenty of those at least, whatever else is scarce.’
Nell immediately expressed her satisfaction with her allotted quarters. ‘Indeed, I have nothing wanting, I believe, bar an impatience to meet with Miss Jarrow and begin upon my duties.’
A look of distress passed over Mrs Whyte’s plump features. ‘The poor little mite! Though she’s well enough this morning, Duggan tells me.’
Then the housekeeper clearly knew what had happened last night. Nell smiled. ‘Then the sooner I begin the better.’
‘We’ll hope it will be for the better.’ The woman fetched a sigh, and then shrugged away her clouded brow, smiling again. ‘But that’s for later. I’ll leave you to your toilet, ma’am. When you’re ready, knock on that wall and I’ll hear you, for my chamber is next door andI’ve yet to make the bed. The gentlemen like to get off early, so I do their breakfast first.’
Consternation caught at Nell. She crossed quickly to the bedside cabinet, taking up the essential pocket watch that had been Mrs Duxford’s parting gift to her.
‘It is past ten! Heavens, I must have been more tired than I thought!’ She turned quickly to the housekeeper.
‘I do apologize for having inconvenienced you, Mrs Whyte.’
Moving to the door, the older woman tutted. ‘You haven’t at all. A body couldn’t blame you for sleeping a little longer on your first day. So much to take in—and not all of it pleasant, I’ll be bound!’
None of it pleasant, Nell might have said. Assuring the housekeeper that she would not dawdle, she closed the door behind her and began swiftly to strip off her night attire.
The ordinary domesticity of the kitchens did much to raise Nell’s mood. Refusing to increase Mrs Whyte’s burden, she had opted to accompany her and eat below stairs rather than await breakfast in solitary state in the dining parlour.
‘You must have quite enough to do, and why in the world should we stand upon ceremony? Lord Jarrow assured me that you are informal here, and I should much prefer to take breakfast in your company, Mrs Whyte.’
The housekeeper had been touchingly grateful. ‘Well, it would suit better, Miss Faraday, and that’s a fact. There’s no gainsaying it’s a toil, whether you come through the hall or use them horrid winding stairs in the turret. Can’t abide ’em myself, which is why I use the proper stairs, longer though it is. And Mr Keston, the dear, has gone in my stead with Grig to the farm, foryou can’t trust that noddy on his own. Bound to bring back the wrong joints, and let himself be swindled into the bargain! There’s no depending on Farmer Tuffley not to take advantage, for he’s as sly as they come, and when you’ve to watch every penny, you can’t be too careful.’
Following in her wake as she led the way, Nell had found these artless disclosures intensely aggravating to her burning curiosity. It was with difficulty that she prevented herself from pelting the housekeeper with questions. While the elder lady prepared, she seated herself out of the way to wait, smoothing the petticoats of her working gown of dyed calico—one of several that she had fashioned in the modest style befitting her station, with sleeves to the wrist and a wrapover bodice made high to the neck. This one was of dull bronze, but its cut, Nell flattered herself, was yet fashionable, the waist riding below her bosom.
Her discretion was rewarded once Mrs Whyte had supplied her with a generous meal. Carving several slices from a fine ham, she had thrown them to warm on to a griddle placed across the great range that spread heat throughout the kitchen quarters. Apologising for the lack of eggs—a supply of which were to be
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