past for the rest of a long morning. Sarah, Polly, and Peters had already removed the Holland covers in the drawing room, dining room, and library, and were busy making the rooms usable. She skipped them, resolving to examine them closely after lunch. Now she wanted a broad overview of the manor, and she especially wanted to make note of any furnishings that might prove useful. It seemed unlikely that anything in the main rooms would be in very good shape.
The house was even larger than it had appeared the evening before. Thomas had pointed out the rooms now under assault by the limited staff. Most were located in the west wing, and the terrace flanking that wing led to the delightful overlook of lake and valley. What she had not detected in the fading sunset was that this wing represented but a portion of Crawley Manor.
Beyond a large central block was a more extensive wing, the whole cupping a south-facing courtyard that caught and held the sun’s rays even on this chilly January day. It promised a delightful retreat in the years ahead. But the immediate future was daunting. To eyes accustomed to the Sheldridge Corners vicarage, the manor was enormous. Swallowing a wave of terror at the magnitude of her task, she began making notes.
Neglect was visible everywhere, though some areas did show less wear than others. She sketched quick plans of each floor, using a simple code of numbers to indicate her superficial impression of each room’s condition before jotting down specific problems and noting the presence of anything useful. She discovered several carpets that should clean up well, although she could only guess at their color; bedroom furniture that needed but minimal repair; and even draperies on northern windows which had escaped the sun’s damaging rays. And the attics proved a virtual treasure trove of discarded but usable items. Much of the furniture dated from earlier eras, but the house would look better old-fashioned than run-down.
On the negative side, dirt lay thick in every room, and January was not the ideal month for a massive turnout. Washing only the Holland covers that would be immediately redeployed would be a Herculean undertaking. To say nothing of cleaning the draperies, bedhangings, and carpets. The Augean stables seemed trivial in comparison. The carpets alone could require an army of field hands. Please, Lord, she prayed silently, can you send us a week of unseasonably warm, sunny weather?
And the roof definitely leaked.
* * * *
By lunch Thomas was almost as overwhelmed as Caroline.
He had awakened in a burst of enthusiasm. The physical side of his unexpected marriage was proving to be everything he could have wanted. How had Caroline managed to extricate herself without disturbing his slumbers? He grinned. Her face might be plain, but her body was as voluptuously enticing as any he had encountered. And her response to his overtures was certainly not what he had feared once the words vicar’s daughter fell from her disapproving lips. So his forced rustication offered certain attractions.
The estate would not be among them, he conceded by noon. He spent a quick hour skimming the ledgers, then the rest of the morning in the saddle. His impression of Tibbins slipped steadily until by midmorning he could no longer deny that the man was both lazy and incompetent. Why had he not noticed these problems on his previous visits?
And why did that question surface now? he cursed moments later, for his mind refused to let it go unanswered. The ensuing reflections were far from comfortable. To his chagrin, he discovered that the Honourable Thomas Mannering was a useless fribble.
Had he accomplished anything in five-and-twenty years?
Unfortunately not. A third of his lifetime gone for nought. He had put in the expected time at Eton and Oxford, enjoying his studies enormously but reluctant to admit to such an unfashionable pleasure, producing adequate but unexceptional work lest he be
The house was even larger than it had appeared the evening before. Thomas had pointed out the rooms now under assault by the limited staff. Most were located in the west wing, and the terrace flanking that wing led to the delightful overlook of lake and valley. What she had not detected in the fading sunset was that this wing represented but a portion of Crawley Manor.
Beyond a large central block was a more extensive wing, the whole cupping a south-facing courtyard that caught and held the sun’s rays even on this chilly January day. It promised a delightful retreat in the years ahead. But the immediate future was daunting. To eyes accustomed to the Sheldridge Corners vicarage, the manor was enormous. Swallowing a wave of terror at the magnitude of her task, she began making notes.
Neglect was visible everywhere, though some areas did show less wear than others. She sketched quick plans of each floor, using a simple code of numbers to indicate her superficial impression of each room’s condition before jotting down specific problems and noting the presence of anything useful. She discovered several carpets that should clean up well, although she could only guess at their color; bedroom furniture that needed but minimal repair; and even draperies on northern windows which had escaped the sun’s damaging rays. And the attics proved a virtual treasure trove of discarded but usable items. Much of the furniture dated from earlier eras, but the house would look better old-fashioned than run-down.
On the negative side, dirt lay thick in every room, and January was not the ideal month for a massive turnout. Washing only the Holland covers that would be immediately redeployed would be a Herculean undertaking. To say nothing of cleaning the draperies, bedhangings, and carpets. The Augean stables seemed trivial in comparison. The carpets alone could require an army of field hands. Please, Lord, she prayed silently, can you send us a week of unseasonably warm, sunny weather?
And the roof definitely leaked.
* * * *
By lunch Thomas was almost as overwhelmed as Caroline.
He had awakened in a burst of enthusiasm. The physical side of his unexpected marriage was proving to be everything he could have wanted. How had Caroline managed to extricate herself without disturbing his slumbers? He grinned. Her face might be plain, but her body was as voluptuously enticing as any he had encountered. And her response to his overtures was certainly not what he had feared once the words vicar’s daughter fell from her disapproving lips. So his forced rustication offered certain attractions.
The estate would not be among them, he conceded by noon. He spent a quick hour skimming the ledgers, then the rest of the morning in the saddle. His impression of Tibbins slipped steadily until by midmorning he could no longer deny that the man was both lazy and incompetent. Why had he not noticed these problems on his previous visits?
And why did that question surface now? he cursed moments later, for his mind refused to let it go unanswered. The ensuing reflections were far from comfortable. To his chagrin, he discovered that the Honourable Thomas Mannering was a useless fribble.
Had he accomplished anything in five-and-twenty years?
Unfortunately not. A third of his lifetime gone for nought. He had put in the expected time at Eton and Oxford, enjoying his studies enormously but reluctant to admit to such an unfashionable pleasure, producing adequate but unexceptional work lest he be
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