The old man opened and closed his mouth, reminding her of a fish, then turned around and stomped off.
“She always talk like that?” Fergus asked Robertson.
He smirked. “When she needs to.”
“I think me laird got hisself a fine lady. She’ll do well when we visit home.”
“We’ll be back later. Make a list of what we’ll need.” Giff led her off through the garden gate. “Well done, my love.”
“I have experience with men having more fun arguing than getting their work accomplished. Let us find out what is going on in the house.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Giff didn’t tell Alice, but when his grandfather arrived, Grandad’s staff would be told by Giff’s Scots servants that Alice was a right one. That made him proud. He took her hand as they walked through the garden to the house. “May we go to your house for luncheon and come back here later?”
“Yes. We can visit Hatchards before we return. We will need books to take with us.”
He didn’t plan to have time to read books, but one never knew. He supposed they couldn’t spend all their time in bed. After all, they’d be in company on the ship and while traveling in France. “That’s a good idea.”
“We also require contracts for all of our servants. Do you happen do know how much your father is paying the grooms?”
No. But he would make a point to find out. Fergus would know. “Not at the moment.”
“I will write to our solicitor and ask him to make up the contracts. We can add the amounts later.”
“Wait a minute.” He stopped and stared at Alice. “Do you mean to tell me you know how much they are making at Worthington House?”
“Of course I do.” She seemed surprised that he wouldn’t know that. “Ten pounds a year for a stable boy. The personal grooms earn fifteen pounds a year and the stablemaster twenty pounds.”
Why had he even doubted her. He’d been told she learned everything needed to run not only a household, but an estate as well.
When they arrived back several hours later, he drove directly to the mews. A wagon stood outside of the stables loaded with stinking hay. It was enough to make one cast his accounts. The wagon moved off and another one arrived with new bales of straw.
Fergus and Robertson strode up to them. Robertson bowed, and Fergus said, “Almost done. We’re waiting for oats and a few other things.”
“How’s the tack?”
He shook his head. “Some of it can be fixed. The rest will have to go. Mice and rats.”
“It is unbelievable how the saddles were let to fall into ruin,” Robertson said. “I have never seen anything like it, and I hope I never do again.”
A man who looked to be in his late thirties with brown hair and eyes joined them. “Are you Bromley?”
“I am, my lord.” The man bowed.
“Will you accept the position as my stablemaster?”
“I will. The second coachman wants to know if there’s a place for him. He’s the one that drove you down to London with the fourth coachman.”
“I’ll be pleased to have them both.” Giff thought that other than a cook, that completed their staff. While they were with Alice’s family for luncheon, she spoke with the housekeeper and was able to make arrangements for three housemaids. “I expect the stable to be run in an orderly manner without the abuse Smith was known for. You should know that Robinson and Fergus will assist when they are able, but they are our personal grooms and are expected to be ready to serve us when we require them.”
“Yes, my lord. They both mentioned as much.”
“My curricle can be moved in as soon as space is ready. Her ladyship’s phaeton will come over just before the wedding. You are all invited to Worthington House for the celebration.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Bromley gave a small smile. “I’ll see to the garden key as well.”
“Good man. Carry on.” Giff lifted Alice down from the carriage and escorted her into the garden. “That went well.”
