Authors: Tania Anne Crosse
‘You’m Miss Southcott, bain’t you? I’s Daisy. Parlour maid. Kitchen maid. Well, anything maid, really. Us just all pitches in together. ’Tis how Mistress Rose and Mr Seth likes it. And you wouldn’t find many masters and mistresses wanting to be called like that, neither. Oh, what must you think of me, keeping you on the doorstep, like? Come on in, and I’ll tell the mistress you’m yere.’
Ling stepped inside the spacious hall, waiting while the older girl bustled off through an adjoining door, and Ling was glad of the few moments alone to swallow down her excitement at being inside this lovely, substantial house. The hall alone was three times the size of her parents’ humble cottage and was two storeys high. Light flooded in through tall casement windows and an ornate staircase swept up to a galleried landing.
The door Daisy had entered was opened again, and a flurry of leaping fur and claws clicking on the polished floorboards preceded the rustle of swishing hems as Rose hurried forward to greet Ling like a long lost cousin. There seemed to be dogs everywhere, almost knocking Ling over as they bounced around her knees and their rough tongues sought out her hands.
‘Dogs,
down
!’ Rose ordered, trying to dampen the huge grin on her face. ‘They won’t hurt you, but sometimes they’re too friendly for words. Now then.’ She paused for breath, and Ling noticed her cheeks were flushed with pleasure. ‘I’ll show you the room I’ve chosen for you. Next door but one to ours. And then I’ll show you over the whole house so that you won’t get lost.’
Her lavender eyes were dancing as she drew Ling towards the staircase and Ling felt herself whisked up into the whirlwind that her employer created wherever she went. Rose Warrington’s contented effervescence was certainly overwhelming!
‘You seem a deal brighter, Mrs Warrington, if I may say so,’ Ling ventured.
‘Oh, ’tis because I’m feeling so much better,’ Rose declared as they climbed the stairs. ‘The sickness is passing, and Dr Ratcliffe reckons I must be a good three months gone. So the baby should be here about the end of November. Oh, Ling, I just can’t wait! And ’twill be wonderful to have you here as my friend and companion!’
Ling smiled back. Rose’s joy was infectious, driving away the thorn that pricked Ling’s heart at the mention of the doctor, even if it wasn’t the physician Elliott Franfield had studied under. But Ling’s fond memory of that afternoon almost a year ago now was gradually fading. Elliott had never called to see if she had recovered from the terrible incident that could so easily have taken both their lives. He had never even responded to the message she had sent to him through his mother. Ah, well. She still had dear Barney, his brooch pinned at her neck every day. And she had this new and exciting adventure to occupy the few years until she felt the time was right for them to marry.
Rose showed her the entire building, and Ling marvelled at everything her eyes feasted upon. Nothing was too fancy or ornate, but the whole place oozed with good taste. Every room was light and airy, and yet none was so large as to feel cold and unwelcoming. To Ling, it was perfect. And most fascinating of all was a flushing lavatory on each floor – the upstairs ones being new, Rose had said – with the most prettily adorned china pans. Certainly, a massive step up from the draughty wooden huts that housed the earth-closets on Big Tip!
‘Help yourself to any books you’d like to read,’ Rose was saying now as she flapped her hand at the bursting shelves in the study. ‘No need to ask. And now, come into the kitchen and I’ll introduce you to the staff.’
Ling nodded, too dumbfounded to do anything more than smile in amazement. As they approached a door at the rear of the impressive hallway, her senses were assailed by the most unusual, tantalizing aroma, which at once set her mouth watering. Her nose must have wrinkled as she sniffed the air because Rose chuckled.
‘We’re having curried mutton as our main course for dinner tonight,’ Rose explained.
Ling frowned. ‘Having . . . Pardon, what did you say, Mrs Warrington?’
‘Rose, please. Or Mistress Rose, if you must. Curried mutton. ’Tis like a stew with lots of different spices. Seth introduced us to it. He was out in India for four years with the cavalry, you see. Cook wasn’t keen at first, but Seth won her over, and now we all like it. But we can cook something plain for you if you prefer.’
‘Oh, no!’ And as Rose opened the kitchen door Ling’s nostrils received the full blast of the intriguing smell. ‘I can’t wait to try it!’
Indeed, she could feel her stomach rumbling as she was greeted by a smiling Cook, another maid by the name of Patsy, who seemed as shy as Daisy was talkative, and the homely, grey-haired Florrie Bennett. Ling would have been happy to talk to these friendly, easy-going servants, but Rose whisked her outside. A terrace ran along the back of the house opening on to a splendid garden, but Rose led Ling through a stable-yard and out to some walled fields beyond.
‘Seth!’ she called. ‘Seth!’
Ling looked across to where the tall, slender man waved back to them from a couple of fields away. She was about to protest that there was really no need for the master to come over all that way, but just then a colossal black horse thundered across to them and skidded to a halt. Ling’s heart leapt into her throat since the beast was so huge and powerful, and she was relieved it was on the opposite side of the wall. But then it pushed its elegant head over the stake and wire fence that topped the stonewalling, nuzzling into Rose’s shoulder.
‘Now, Gospel, this is Ling and you must always be nice to her,’ Rose was telling the fearsome animal just as if it was a human being. ‘You mustn’t be afraid of him, Ling. Now he’s seen you with me, he’ll recognize you as a friend. Stroke him and let him smell your hand.’
Ling had not expected to come, quite literally, face to face with the fearsome monster on whose back she had so often witnessed Rose charging across the moor. Nevertheless, with Rose beside her, she did as she was instructed. The giant’s coat was beautifully warm and soft, glistening in the sunlight, and admiration started to take the place of Ling’s fear.
‘He’s seventeen now, but he’s still as lively as ever. All he needs is a little love and understanding, don’t you, my darling?’ Rose pressed her cheek against the horse’s, kissing his nose, and Ling could only smile as she watched them.
‘Thinks more of that blessed nag than she does me!’
As he joined them, Seth Warrington’s face was lit with a teasing smile, and his eyes twinkled mischievously as his arm went about his wife’s waist. ‘Welcome to Fencott Place,’ he said amiably. ‘I trust Rose has been taking care of you?’
‘Oh, absolutely, sir,’ Ling assured him.
‘Well, perhaps you’ll allow me to show you the horses while madam here goes for her rest. Now, no arguing, Rose! This little one is very precious to us, and if the doctor recommends that you put your feet up every afternoon, then that’s precisely what you will do!’
Rose pulled a feigned grimace. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said, but then threw up her head with a tinkling laugh before dancing away towards the house. Ling noticed Seth watch her go, his eyes soft with love for his wife and their unborn child. It was so touching that Ling shivered with delight. Oh, she was going to be so happy living here!
‘Tansy was our first brood mare,’ Seth said, his voice interrupting her thoughts. ‘The bright chestnut. She’s an old lady now, but she always was as docile as a lamb. We’ve bred three foals from her, but she’s getting on a bit to have any more. That’s the last one over there. Good price he’ll fetch with such a good temperament.’
Ling had begun to relax as she listened to Seth chatting about the horses. She found herself increasingly at ease with the softly spoken, equable master of Fencott Place, and he soon gave her a good overall picture of the Warringtons’ stud farm.
‘I must go back to the house now,’ he announced at length. ‘I have a pile of paperwork. I expect Rose has told you the horses are only a small part of our business. Our main interests are in the worldwide investments she inherited. Of course, we have an excellent broker who advises us, but I’m going up to London tomorrow for a few days to meet with him, so I need to look at everything first. Come back to the house with me, and I’ll introduce you to the groom and the stable lad on the way.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
She saw his eyes dart across at her, a little amused, she thought. Seth Warrington was a reserved man, but once you got to know him he was extremely amicable. The servants clearly loved and respected him as much as they did their impulsive mistress. Seth accompanied Ling into the kitchen – something that would have been out of the question in most grand households! He even checked on the curried mutton simmering on the massive range and politely asked Patsy if she wouldn’t mind bringing a tray of coffee into the study for him.
‘Would you like a drink, my dear?’ Cook asked Ling when the master had sauntered out of the room. ‘What about a nice, cold glass of lemonade? I saw you had a few bits and pieces to unpack, so you could take it up to your room if you likes. And when you’ve done, come down and we’ll all have a nice cup of tea together. Florrie’ll be awake again then.’ She winked, nodding at the elderly woman dozing in the rocking-chair.
Ling simply could not believe her good fortune. Her room was spacious with large casement windows facing south. A plush, square carpet covered most of the gleaming floorboards, there was a marble-topped washstand, a chest of drawers and matching wardrobe, and the bed was so comfortable, lying on it was like floating on a cloud. Ling unpacked her few possessions and then returned to the kitchen where the women were enjoying their afternoon tea before the busy activity of the evening meal. Ling felt so perfectly at home, and then her mistress reappeared after her nap, and the house burst into life again.
‘Now then, Ling, we’ll take a stroll together,’ Rose announced, ‘and afterwards you will help me change for dinner. I’m sure that’s what companions do, though I’ve not had one before! You will eat in the dining-room with us, of course. Oh, yes –’ she grinned as Ling went to protest – ‘Florrie always eats with us, and you shall too!’
And, indeed, she did, feeling a little awkward at being served by the two maids she had been chatting with in the kitchen. But there was no standing on ceremony and the atmosphere was perfectly relaxed and natural. Ling felt no embarrassment as Rose explained to her the daunting array of cutlery she was expected to use. The curried mutton was delicious, even if she did have to cool her mouth with several glasses of Cook’s lemonade!
‘What a pity Seth has to go to London tomorrow,’ Rose declared. ‘But that’s just when I shall be grateful for the extra company.’
‘I’ve got an audience with the Home Secretary,’ Seth explained somewhat grimly, and Ling looked up in astonishment. That sounded proper grand, but Seth appeared more exasperated than anything. ‘I’ve been trying to speak with him for years. You know I’m campaigning for an appeal system for convicts? At the moment, once a felon is convicted, that’s it. Unless you have someone of remarkable power and influence who can work miracles for you.’ He broke off, exchanging wary glances with his wife as if they shared some hidden secret. ‘If someone’s guilty of a crime, that’s fair enough. They should be punished. But I bet you there’s more than one poor devil in there –’ and here he paused to wave his fork in the direction of the nearby prison – ‘who’s innocent and could prove it if given half the chance.’
Ling’s curiosity was aroused by the bitter tone in his voice, but just then Cook came in then, proudly carrying a sumptuous dessert of meringue layered with cream and fresh strawberries. Ling was sure she had never consumed such a meal, nor been treated so well. Everything felt so right, and she knew she would serve this household with unfailing love and loyalty!
‘They’re coming! Adam and Becky are coming!’
Ling flicked round her head at Rose’s shriek of delight as she read the telegram. It was six weeks since Ling had come to Fencott Place and her life had changed dramatically. Seth had been away twice, and without Ling’s company Rose would not have known what to do with herself. They took long, healthy walks across the moor, exercise that Dr Ratcliffe approved of wholeheartedly. On several occasions they had taken the train from Princetown, changing at the new station at Yelverton, to Plymouth, where Ling had her first experience of the sea.
Then there were preparations for the baby: a layette to be sewn while Florrie knitted the umpteen blankets, shawls and bonnets that would keep the little one warm through the winter. And, of course, there was Rose’s expanding figure to be clothed.
On a more challenging front, national and international matters were topics of conversation at the meal table. Seth taught Ling about stocks and shares, and she helped entertain prospective buyers for the horses. Together with Rose she listened intently to Seth’s frustrations over his campaign. In the event, his long-awaited session with the Home Secretary had been restricted to a useless five minutes. He was, however, gathering support, meeting with like-minded, influential people in London, but it was a slow process. There was a daily pile of correspondence from supporters nationwide, and it was Ling’s job to open and sort the letters. And now she was to meet Adam and Rebecca Bradley, who she understood were equally intellectual. Rose had told her that Captain Bradley was a man of both wealth and principle, and, while he supported Seth’s campaign, they were both also involved in the fight to raise the Age of Consent to sixteen.
‘Oh, there’s such a lot to do,’ Rose cried joyfully. ‘We must set to work at once!’
The already bustling household exploded into a frenzy of activity, everyone scurrying about preparing bedrooms, Florrie and Cook busy planning menus, and Rose overseeing the entire operation, which was conducted like a military campaign! The Bradley family was travelling by train and would be met at Princetown Station by the Warrington’s carriage. On the morning of their arrival, Rose could hardly contain herself and the house erupted in happy chaos. Rebecca Bradley was a pretty, petite woman, Ling considered, several years older than Rose but equally brimming in vitality. Her husband was perhaps in his mid to late forties, tall and distinguished but with a warm smile that soon set Ling at ease.