A Marriageable Miss (24 page)

Several hours later, Sadie, one of the housemaids, entered the library with her usual intention of setting a taper to the fire in readiness for his lordship’s return from the stables, only to find her master fast asleep, his long legs sprawled inelegantly across the arm of his chair, his hand still clutching his empty glass and his snores resonating softly throughout the room.

At about the same time as Sadie was tiptoeing out of the library in an effort not to disturb the earl’s inebriated slumber, two park drags rumbled up to the Hall’s rear entrance carrying Helena and her newly acquired workforce: fifteen reasonably fit ex-soldiers, picked personally by Rueben Corrigan, and eight women, Cissie Pritchard and Bet Mooney amongst them.

Every one of them filled with a mixture of excitement and varying degrees of trepidation as to what they might have let themselves in for, having only too gladly accepted Helena’s offer of employment. In addition to a fair wage for their efforts, the promise of a full set of clothes and a new pair of boots had been enough incentive for a good many more volunteers for her scheme. Helena, however, had not held back in her descriptions of the vast amount of hard work to which they would be required to commit themselves and, placing her trust in Rueben’s judgement of his fellow colleagues, had left the final decision to him to pick the most suitable men for the job.

Lottie and Jenny, both full of awe and admiration for her plan, had helped her select the women and, after having paid a hurried visit to her rapidly improving father and a rather more extended one to the bank, Helena had sent Rueben off to hire the drags, while she, Bet and Cissie had visited all the cobblers in the vicinity to purchase every single pair of boots that they were able to make available at such short notice. A varied selection of workclothes had been packed into two large hampers that were strapped to the
rear of the coaches and, to a chorus of cheers and whistles from a somewhat envious but still highly interested crowd of spectators, the drags had set off for Markfield.

Seated next to Fran, inside the leading coach, Helena leaned back against the comfortable squabs with a contented smile on her face. It still amazed her that she had been able to achieve so much in so short a space of time—such was the power of money, she supposed, as she recalled the bank manager’s face when she passed over the twenty-seven unpaid bills that she had found on Markfield’s desk and instructed him to see to their immediate payment. It was true that she did harbour a slightly niggling sensation of guilt for having taken them without having first consulted her husband but, after she had inadvertently caught sight of the one on the top of the pile, it had been quite beyond her strength of will to resist poring through the rest. Besides which, having reasoned that Markfield had expressly commanded her to ‘do as she pleased’ in the matter, she had been very careful to remove only those that pertained to the Hall’s refurbishment. In any case, she kept telling herself, surely his lordship would be over the moon to discover that the settlement of so many unpaid bills had been taken out of his hands?

As she sat back and tried to envisage the look of admiration that would appear on Markfield’s face as she described her day’s activities to him, she found herself overcome by a decided lowering of spirit. She was beginning to have the most uncomfortable feeling that no matter how much the earl might congratulate her for her efforts at securing a workforce in so short a time, he was not going to be altogether happy when he discovered that she had taken it upon herself to investigate his private correspondence. The fact that dealing with much of her father’s paperwork during his recent illnesses had become almost second nature to her could hardly be used as an excuse for her to make free with her husband’s personal papers.

Climbing out of the carriage, she took note of the slates that were stacked neatly against the rear wall and, casting her gaze upwards, was glad to see that Mr Jarvis had been as good as his
word and had made substantial inroads to the work over the central hallway. Turning to look at the stables across the way, however, she was surprised to note that all the doors were closed and the only sign of activity, as far as she could discern, was a single stable hand busily engaged in sweeping the yard. Her heart sinking, it became clear to her that, contrary to what she had supposed—given his usual practice of remaining at his work until the light began to fade—it appeared that Markfield had already left the premises and was, in all probability, well on his way back to Westpark even now. By the time she got back, his lordship would have had more than enough time to work himself up into a towering fury, after having discovered her improper actions!

Fran’s hand on her elbow jerked her back to her present difficulties and she turned to face the hushed and expectant group of people who were awaiting her directions.

‘I am afraid that you will find the entrance hall something of a disgrace,’ she told them, as she led the way through the back door of the house. ‘But I am told that there are several habitable rooms in the east wing—I have arranged for some mattresses and bedding to be delivered up there and I understand that the kitchens are in quite good working order.’

‘Doubt if it’ll be much worse than the ’ovel I were stuck in back there, miss,’ averred Bet, with a cheeky grin. ‘An’ scrubbin’ floors will be a darn sight more agreeable than what I been puttin’ up with these last few nights, I can tell you!’

‘And far better pay, I wouldn’t mind betting!’ returned Helena with a valiant smile as, keeping her fingers crossed that Charles had managed to fulfil the considerable list of tasks that she had set him the previous afternoon, she started up the stairs that would lead her troop of recruits to the rooms that would serve as their quarters for a good many weeks to come.

An hour or so later, when she had at last been able to tear herself away from helping Cissie and Rueben sort out the various unexpected hitches that had arisen as a result of the sudden influx of so large a group of people into a property that had suffered so
much neglect, Helena, accompanied by an equally weary Fran, made her way back to Westpark in the fast fading daylight.

‘At least we can now cross the river in safety!’ she exclaimed in delight, as she stepped on to the now fully functional footbridge. ‘I have to admit that I was in fear of my life when I was obliged to use it yesterday.’

On reaching the far side, she turned and looked back at the Hall, from where a score of brightly flickering beams of light cast their cheerful glow out of several of the upper-storey windows. ‘I do hope that they will all be comfortable,’ she confided in her companion as, arm in arm, they scurried through the deepening dusk along the riverbank.

‘A good deal better than they’ve been used to, by all accounts,’ countered Fran, somewhat disparagingly. ‘And I dare say you won’t thank me for saying this, my lady, but his lordship is going to have a right fit when he sets his eyes on you!’

Helena bit her lip. Her mind had been so full of other things during the past few hours that she had allowed herself to put aside all thoughts of her own difficulties, especially those in regard to her likely reception by her husband. ‘We did get ourselves into rather a mess, I’m afraid,’ she said, with a rueful glance at her companion’s dirt-streaked face. ‘There was a good deal more grime and dust than I had reckoned on—thank goodness that nice Ben Fuller managed to get the kitchen range working! At least there will be plenty of hot water for them all.’

‘I trust the same will apply to ourselves, when we get back,’ grumbled Fran who, having risen to the status of lady’s maid a good many years earlier, had rather balked at some of the activities in which she had been obliged to involve herself in today’s project. But, having taken one look at the state of the rooms in which she expected her workers to sleep, Helena had simply rolled up her sleeves and set about helping to remove the festoons of dust-impregnated cobwebs that seemed to have gathered in every possible nook and cranny of the place, not to mention sweeping floors that hadn’t seen a brush in more than five years, leaving her maidservant with very little option but to follow her mistress’s sterling example.

Although Mrs Ellis was a good deal taken aback when the new Countess of Markfield strode into her kitchen covered in a varied assortment of grime and filth, she managed to contain her astonishment long enough to assure her mistress that there was more than enough hot water in the range’s back boiler for both her ladyship and Fran to take their much-needed baths.

‘I’ll get Mrs Wainwright to see to it right away, ma’am,’ she declared, rising hurriedly from her seat and thrusting her feet back into the shoes that she was in the habit of removing at the finish of each workday, whilst signalling to the scullery maid, who was still busily engaged in wiping down the draining boards.

‘I am truly sorry to have to disturb you at such a late hour, Mrs Ellis,’ said Helena, unable to stifle a slight gasp as she caught sight of the woman’s badly swollen ankles and instantly making a mental note to get extra help in the kitchen as soon as possible. ‘But I’m afraid we will require something to eat, as well. Just a snack will do. We can eat it here in the kitchen, if you have no objections—I imagine that his lordship has already dined?’

‘No trouble at all, ma’am,’ averred the cook, as she shuffled towards the pantry. ‘There’s a whole rabbit pie, a nice roast capon and a leg of ham—all of them totally untouched—seeing as how the master took himself off to his bed around four o’clock this afternoon and, according to his man, Shipman, he’s been dead to the world ever since!’

‘Good heavens!’ cried Helena, in some alarm, as she started for the door. ‘His lordship has been taken ill? Has anyone sent for the doctor?’

‘Now there’s no need for you to go getting yourself all of a quiver, my lady,’ Mrs Ellis assured her calmly, as she proceeded to carve several thick slices off the succulent looking ham-bone that she had fetched from the pantry and arranged them neatly on the two plates in front of her. ‘It appears that Master Richard—his lordship, that is—indulged himself rather too liberally with the brandy bottle this morning and was obliged to retire to his room with a slight—er—stomach disorder. Mrs Wainwright gave him one of her special physics and, like I said, he’s been sleeping like a babe ever since!’

‘She means the man was rolling drunk, my lady,’ intimated Fran, giving a disapproving sniff, as she headed into the scullery to wash her hands and face prior to sitting down at the kitchen table to eat her meal.

Helena’s heart seemed to sink right down to her half-boots as she followed her maid’s example. Exactly what sort of creature was this man that she had married? she wondered. Not only a rake, but a drunkard, too, it would seem! Probably an inveterate gambler, as well, just as his uncle and cousin had been, she thought dolefully. Not that any of these shortcomings appeared to have the slightest effect on the way her pulse reacted whenever he happened to walk into a room…or touched her hand…or cast a smile in her direction. And as for his kisses! He had left her speechless, breathless and unable to construct a single sensible thought. Even her belief that her husband was an accomplished philanderer appeared to have done nothing to prevent her from falling completely under his spell, which was decidedly demoralising, when she remembered her previously pompous attitude towards him.

And then, as, once again, the increasingly discomfiting recall of her casual perusal of the earl’s private paperwork invaded her thoughts, a shudder of apprehension ran through her, thoroughly stifling her appetite. Getting to her feet, she said, ‘I seem to have developed a slight headache, I fear. I believe that I will take my bath first, after all, if you don’t mind. Perhaps you would be good enough to have my supper sent up in an hour or so, Mrs Ellis?’

Then, turning to her maid who, her meal only half-eaten, had also risen to her feet in preparation to accompanying her mistress to her room, she added, ‘Do finish your meal, Fran—I can easily ring when I need you.’ And, without further ado, she swept out of the kitchen, leaving the pair staring at one another in frowning consternation.

Back in her bedchamber, she discovered that the preparations for her requested bath were already well advanced and, having finally dismissed the last of the trio of maidservants who had toiled up and down the stairs carrying jugs of hot water on her
behalf, she deftly divested herself of her grimy clothing and sank gratefully into the soothing warmth of the violet-scented water.

Still mulling over the several possible excuses that she had hit upon to justify her misdemeanour, she reasoned that it was possible that the earl might not be quite so angry when he learned that so many of his outstanding bills had been dealt with. Although, having recalled his instant withdrawal every time a conversation touched upon money matters, she was well aware that her approach to the subject was going to have to be very delicate.

Now fully refreshed, she stepped out of the bath and, not bothering to ring for her maid, dried herself and, after running a comb through her still-damp curls, slipped into the matching white silk nightdress and peignoir that Fran had laid out for her before their departure early that morning.

Straightening her shoulders, she marched resolutely across to the door that separated her husband’s room from hers, having made up her mind that the best time to tackle him would be whilst he was still slightly under par, so to speak—not strictly ethical, perhaps, but, given Markfield’s predilections insofar as money matters were concerned, Helena was inclined to suspect that striking while the iron was cool might, in the present circumstances, be far the best bet!

Not wishing to alert him to her presence before she had had time to compose herself fully, she reached out and turned the handle gently, only to discover, to her chagrin, that the door was still locked!

Biting her lip in frustration, she glared at the offending mechanism, wondering what sort of fiendish mind had conjured up a system whereby it was possible for a husband to bar his wife from entering his room, but not the reverse! Vowing that she would have one of her own workmen fit a bolt on her side of the room at the earliest opportunity, she swept across to her bedroom door, edged it open and, after peering carefully in both directions in order to ensure that there were no stray footmen wandering about in the vicinity, she scuttled hurriedly down the passageway towards her husband’s chamber.