Four Funerals and Maybe a Wedding Page 8

  “Expecting you?” He was still standing at the door, essentially barring me from entering. “We weren’t expecting anyone. The owner is away at the moment.”

  “I am quite aware of that,” I said. “Now, if you’d move to one side so that I may enter.”

  “But the house isn’t ready for guests,” he said, grudgingly stepping aside as I moved into the foyer. “We weren’t told—”

  “You’ve not heard from Sir Hubert?” I asked. “Concerning my arrival?”

  “No, miss.”

  I did correct this one. “I am not ‘miss’; I am ‘my lady’ or ‘your ladyship,’ which I’m sure you should know.” I turned to face him. I was quite pleased to notice that we were about the same height. “Now, to get this straight right away. I am Lady Georgiana. I am Sir Hubert’s heir and he has invited me to come and live here while I prepare for my upcoming wedding, and then to make this my permanent home with my husband.”

  Plunkett looked quite ill. “You’re coming here to live?” he asked. “When?”

  “Right now. My trunks will arrive in a few days. In the meantime you can show me around the house so that I can arrange things to my liking.”

  I saw his face twitch. “Nothing is set up, my lady,” he said. “We’ve only kept on a skeleton staff while Sir Hubert is away.”

  “I presume you are a footman here,” I said. “Now, if you will just notify Mr. Rogers that I have arrived I’m sure he’ll take care of everything splendidly.”

  “Mr. Rogers isn’t the butler here anymore,” he said. “He retired and I was hired in his place.”

  “You’re the butler now?”

  “That’s right.” He now looked almost smug. The smirk said, What are you going to do about it?

  “And Mrs. Holbrook, wasn’t it? Is she no longer housekeeper?”

  “She retired too,” he said. “We don’t keep a housekeeper anymore. Sir Hubert is never here.”

  I sighed. “Then I see I’ll have some hiring to do. You will let the entire staff know that I will meet with them after I’ve had a tour of the house. Oh, and I’d like you to find a local maid for me. Maybe there is a suitable girl in the village who can be trained. My maid has been left in Ireland for the moment at my future husband’s family seat.”

  “Why were we not informed of any of this?” he said, reverting to his former belligerence.

  I realized that Sir Hubert might not have informed the staff, waiting to hear whether I accepted his offer. But I didn’t want Plunkett to know that. “One must presume that Sir Hubert’s letter got lost on the way from South America,” I said. “But as to that, it is not always necessary to inform servants.” I was managing to keep up my Queen Victoria imitation and feeling quite proud of myself, although I could feel my knees shaking under my dress.

  “It’s just that—how am I to know that you are really who you say you are and that it is really Sir Hubert’s wish that you stay here?”

  “You are questioning my veracity?”

  “Just being ultracautious on behalf of my employer,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to do nothing he wouldn’t approve of.”

  I was going to correct his grammar, then decided against it. “Very well,” I said. “It goes against my better judgment, but I will show you the letter from your employer. But I have to warn you that if your attitude doesn’t improve you may be looking for another position soon.”

  I opened my handbag and held out the letter. He read it, his face twitching again. “I’m sorry, my lady,” he said, handing it back to me, “but you have to understand that you could be just anybody coming here, knowing that the owner was gone, and then living at this house for free.”

  “I don’t think that happens very often, does it?” I said. “Now, shall we take our tour of the house?”

  “Should I perhaps first inform the other servants that you want to meet them when we’re done?”

  “Yes, good idea,” I said. “And you should also let Cook know that I will want luncheon at one o’clock. I will understand today that it might be a simple affair because you did not know I was coming.”

  “Yes, my lady. I’ll tell him,” he muttered.

  I stood in the front hallway, looking around me, while he went through the baize door into the servants’ quarters. I thought I heard raised voices and scurrying. I suspected that things had become rather lax under Plunkett’s leadership and there would be some rapid cleaning and tidying. I crossed the foyer and opened the door on my right. Everything was shrouded under dust sheets. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn and it felt musty and gloomy and damp. I shivered. I was trying to remember if I had ever been in here and what it had looked like. The chandelier was bundled up and hung like a great wasps’ nest above my head. A shroud covered something that might be either a statue or a tall lamp. It was rather unnerving, like a ghost standing beside me. I felt I had to know what was beneath that shroud. I gave a small tug and to my horror it fell off, revealing a suit of armor. I was enveloped in a great cloud of dust and retreated coughing.

  “Oh, my lady,” said a relieved voice behind me. “I wondered where you’d got to.”

  I was conscious that I was now covered in dust. My dark blue jacket was liberally speckled and I could feel dust sitting on my face and hair. I fought back the desire to sneeze. I wasn’t going to let him see I was at a disadvantage. “A suit of armor in need of a good cleaning,” I said in my most sprightly voice as I brushed off my shoulders and blew dust off my nose. “Just trying to remember the lay of the land. I don’t think I ever came into this room much when I lived here before.”

  “You lived in this house?” He sounded surprised.

  “Yes, when I was a small girl. My mother was married to Sir Hubert in those days and I spent three happy years here. I remember it as very grand.”

  “I expect it would seem that way to a little girl after what you were used to,” he said. “Where did you live before?”

  “Castle Rannoch, in Scotland,” I said. “My father was Duke of Rannoch. My grandmother was Queen Victoria’s daughter.”

  He swallowed hard. I watched his Adam’s apple go up and down and tried not to grin at scoring this small point of victory.

  “And I returned to the family seat when my mother and Sir Hubert separated.” I didn’t actually say that my mother did another of her famous bolts. The Monte Carlo racing driver, I believe she had said. “Now, shall we begin the tour? Lead on.” I was feeling so proud of myself, acting like the mistress of Eynsleigh already.

  “Very well,” he said. He escorted me out of the drawing room, through a long gallery with a great fireplace at its center; its walls were hung with paintings but each was shrouded, making it feel quite eerie. On the other side was a large dining room.

  “I will need this cleaned and made ready as soon as possible,” I said. “Although I will understand if my luncheon today is served on a tray in one of the rooms that is vaguely habitable.”

  From the dining room we moved on to a music room with a grand piano—at least I presumed it was a grand piano—under its own dust sheet. The room was at the back of the house and had a splendid view over the grounds. My spirits bucked up again. When it was all spruced up it would be wonderful to live here. Next to the music room was a room with a large bay window.

  “Oh yes,” I said. “Now, I do remember this.”

  “The morning room, I believe,” Plunkett said. “Perhaps you will take your luncheon in here.”

  “Good idea.” At least we agreed on something.

  We then walked through a library and another sitting room and came to a grand staircase. Plunkett was about to go up when I said, “What about that side of the house? We haven’t seen it yet.”

  “I was given to understand that the west wing was to be kept for Sir Hubert’s personal use,” he said.

  “Oh, quite right,” I answered. “He told me in his letter that he’d like to keep a suite of rooms for his own use.”

  He had actually said only a bedroom, sitting room and study, but I wasn’t going to press the point at this moment. I’d have plenty of time to explore later. So I followed Plunkett up the stairs. There were several rooms that seemed quite devoid of furniture, some rooms absolutely piled with mounds of what had to be assorted furniture under dust sheets, then a couple of bedrooms with enormous four-poster beds and giant wardrobes that I found impossibly depressing, and at last a corner bedroom at the back of the house with windows on two sides and an adjoining bathroom. I recognized this too. My mother’s old room. I had climbed onto that window seat and watched the deer in the park beyond the lawns.

  “I think this will do quite nicely as my bedroom for now,” I said. “Have one of the maids make up this room before tonight. Oh, and please make sure the hot water is working in the bathroom.”

  “We’ll do our best, my lady,” he said. “You have to understand that Sir Hubert has been gone for several years.”

  “And the staff has become slack,” I added. “I understand. But when I visited the house last time, when Rogers was still butler, Sir Hubert was away but the house was in immaculate condition. I think Sir Hubert would like to think he could return home at any time and find his house as he left it, don’t you?”

  “Yes, my lady,” he muttered grudgingly.

  Clearly there was a lot of work to be done. No wonder Sir Hubert had sensed that not all was right with Eynsleigh.

  Chapter 10

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 26

  EYNSLEIGH, NEAR HAYWARDS HEATH, SUSSEX

  Well, I have arrived as mistress of Eynsleigh but not exactly what I had expected. Sir Hubert was right to be worried that his house was not running as smoothly as he would have liked. So far I’m rather proud of myself, the way I have managed to act like the lady of the manor. But gosh, I’m not sure how long I can keep this up!

  After I had concluded my tour of the house, or at least those parts of the house that Plunkett had deigned to show me, I retreated to the bedroom I had chosen and hastily brushed the layer of dust from my jacket and washed my face before going downstairs to face my staff. I knew the protocol when a person of importance arrived at a great house. The staff were lined up outside in order of seniority. I think I had half expected this, although to be fair, they did not know I would be arriving. But I was now escorted by Plunkett into the dining room to meet my motley crew. I expected that staff numbers would be reduced while the owner was away, but I was shocked to see only four individuals standing in front of me, shuffling nervously as I came in.

  “This is the staff, my lady,” Plunkett said.

  “All of them?” I asked.

  “Well, there are two gardeners, but I didn’t have time to call them in,” he said. He went over to the first man in line, a broad-shouldered chap with flaming red hair. “This is McShea, the footman.”

  McShea gave a little bob of a bow and avoided eye contact.

  “How do you do, McShea?” I said.

  “Not so bad, thank you,” he said in broad Irish tones.

  “Oh, so you are from Ireland,” I said. “What part?”

  “Near Cork, your ladyship.”

  “My future husband’s family comes from near Kildare,” I said. “Lord Kilhenny. You have heard of him?”

  “Horses, my lady. Racehorses.”

  “Quite right.” I smiled and got the ghost of a smile in return. I thought I might have an ally there, now he knew I was marrying an Irishman.

  “And this is Joanie, the housemaid.” She had a sharp little face and the look she gave me was challenging, to say the least. Clearly she didn’t welcome my presence, as I suspected she knew it meant lots of work for her.

  “Only one housemaid?” I asked. “How does she cope with a house this size?”

  “Most of it is under dust covers and has been shut off, my lady,” Plunkett said. “And we have two women from the village come in once a week to help.”

  “I see.” I turned to a little scrap of a girl who looked positively terrified. “And you are also a maid?”

  “Scullery maid, your ladyship,” Plunkett said for her. “Her name is Molly. Also from Ireland.”

  “Molly.” I gave her a nod and a smile, then looked around for the cook.

  “Is Cook still in the kitchen?” I asked.

  “This is our cook,” Plunkett said. “Fernando. He comes from Spain.”

  Fernando had black slicked-down hair and dark flashing eyes. They now flashed at me. “Your ’ighness, you like e-Spanish food?” he asked. “I make-a good e-Spanish food.”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never been to Spain,” I said. “But I hope you can cook good English food too.”

  “The English—they do not know good food,” he said, tossing his head. “They tell Fernando no garlic. No spices.”

  “Yes, well, I’m not too fond of garlic or spices myself,” I said. “When I’ve settled in we’ll go over menus together. I can tell you what I like and find out which dishes you can cook and which you’ll have to learn. Well-cooked English food, Fernando.”

  “Yes, lady, okay,” he said. I believe I noticed a little shrug.

  I took a deep breath and addressed them all. “So Plunkett will have told you that I am Lady Georgiana Rannoch and I am now coming to live here. Sir Hubert has invited me, as his heir, to make this my home when I marry and I am now here to see that everything in the house is to my liking and ready for us when we return from a honeymoon.”

  “And how soon will that be, my lady?” Plunkett asked.

  “Our wedding is the twenty-seventh of July,” I said, “and I presume we will be away on honeymoon after that. But I shall be gone at the beginning of July to my mother’s wedding in Germany, so we don’t have that much time to spruce up the place.”

  “Will Sir Hubert himself be coming for your wedding?” Plunkett asked.

  “I fear not,” I said. “He is currently in South America and thought it might take too long to reach Buenos Aires and then find a ship that can bring him back to England in time.”

  Did I see a visible relaxing of his features?

  “As you can see, my lady,” Plunkett said, sounding more confident, “the house has been shut up for a long time. May I suggest you go back to London for a few days and then I will write to let you know when everything is clean and ready?”

  I had to admit that sounded like a good idea. It was sorely tempting, but I wasn’t about to be defeated or presented with a fait accompli. “That won’t be necessary, Plunkett,” I said. “I shall want to supervise the cleaning and reorganization of the rooms and it will save you work in the long run if you do not have to move furniture around twice.”

  “As you wish,” he said flatly. “I only thought it might not be pleasant to be breathing in dust.”

  “I’ll survive,” I said. “Oh, and before we do anything else, I would like the fountain working again. You will please let the gardeners know.”

  “I don’t think it does work right now,” Plunkett said. “A broken pipe or something.”

  “Then fix it, Plunkett,” I said sweetly. “So the first order of things will be to have the morning room, this dining room and my bedroom made ready for me.” Seeing the clear hostility in their faces, I couldn’t resist adding, “And I will take my luncheon in the dining room after all, Plunkett. Please have a place laid for me.”

  I gave them a gracious little smile. “That will be all.”

  I turned and walked from the room, allowing myself a little grin of triumph. See, I could be lady of the manor if I tried. I wasn’t at all sure about Fernando and I hadn’t taken to Joanie the maid, but I should give them both a chance before I made any rash decisions. For all I knew Sir Hubert had hired Fernando himself and loved to eat Spanish food.

  While I waited for luncheon to be served I went out onto the forecourt and examined the fountain. It had been turned off for some time and had collected leaves and debris in the base. I was determined to get it going again. I wandered farther into the grounds. The lawns had been mown but the flower beds needed weeding and the ornamental topiary I remembered had been allowed to go wild. Clearly more gardeners were needed and I realized I needed to see the household accounts to know how much money I had to budget for extra staff. I remembered the place when I had lived here, although I was only a small child. There had been upstairs maids and downstairs maids and footmen in black-and-gold livery and a lovely old cook who made me welcome in her kitchen. It was my task to bring the house back to those standards!

  As I walked around the house I heard voices, men’s voices, raised. “It’s just not going to work, is it?” one of them said. Was it Plunkett? In which case, whom was he talking to?

  “We’ll have to make it work,” came a low reply. I had them rattled.

  I came back into the house to find the dining room more or less dusted and the table set for one.

  “Luncheon is ready, my lady,” Plunkett said.

  Soup was brought in. I recognized it as soon as I tasted it. A tin of tomato soup. I had subsisted on such things when I attempted to live in London alone with no money. The cook had opened a tin of soup for me! So much for Spanish cooking.

  The footman whisked away my plate, and the next course was a couple of sorry-looking lettuce leaves with some anchovies on top of them and a cold potato. I said nothing but ate because I was hungry. There was no pudding but a plate with a slice of old cheddar cheese and some crackers.

  That was enough for me. I got up, leaving McShea to clear away the plates, and went straight through the baize door and down the steps to the kitchen. Fernando was sitting at the table reading the newspaper and smoking.

  He jumped up, looking guilty, as he heard me enter.