Page 57 of Christmas All the Way

Grace offered her a reassuring smile. ‘You’ll get to hear most of Keeley’s tour before yours begins, and I’ll be with you all the way round. Not that you’ll need me.’

Jenny nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. I do know what I need to say but I’m worried I’ll get something wrong – a date or a fact. It helps knowing you’ll be there if I mess up.’

‘You’re not going to mess up,’ Grace said firmly. ‘Keeley wouldn’t have chosen you if she didn’t think you were up to the job.’

‘It’s time, everyone,’ Keeley called. ‘Elspeth should be welcoming the five o’clock group now so let’s take our places.’ She glanced at Belinda and Sue. ‘Be ready with the kettle to fill the tea cups as soon as we’ve gone. They should be steaming when we enter the library, but make sure you leave through the smoking room so no one sees you. And put the pan over the fire in the kitchen at ten past five, so it’s bubbling when we arrive.’

Both women nodded. ‘We know,’ Belinda said, smiling and waving a sheet of paper. ‘You gave us a list. Eliza’s bedroom at five-thirty, with more tea and a boiled egg, then down the servants’ stairs to spread the Christmas gifts under the tree in the drawing room and replace the empty stockings hanging from the mantelpiece with full ones.’

‘And start all over again before the next tour begins,’ Sue added.

Keeley puffed out her cheeks. ‘Sorry. I just want everything to be perfect.’

‘It will be,’ Grace said, squeezing her arm. ‘But not if we don’t start on time.’

Elspeth was checking in the last ticket holders when Keeley and Grace returned to the hall. Tucking the scanner into her apron, she lifted the tray of drinks and began to distribute them.

‘Welcome to Juniper Cottage,’ Keeley said, her voice clear and confident as she addressed the small group. ‘I’m Dr Cotterill, and it will be my pleasure to guide you around Eliza Norton’s home this evening, as she prepares to celebrate Christmas with her friends and family. It may be that you have visited the cottage before, when Eliza was away from home, but tonight will be a more intimate experience. If you happen to hear a footstep overhead, or a whisper in the next room, don’t be alarmed. Eliza is at home, although she is anxious not to be disturbed.’

A murmur rippled around the hall as the ticket holders began to appreciate that this would be more than a standard tour. Grace exchanged a smile with Jenny. They were in for a treat.

Keeley lifted a small lantern from a table beside the front door. ‘The year is 1852, and although Eliza enjoys a comfortable living, she is not wealthy enough to light our way as though it is daylight. Please watch your step and take care not to trip. The village doctor is known to be a little hasty with the leeches at the slightest provocation – best that you don’t place yourself in need of his services.’

She led the group from the hall. Isobel and Marco followed, and Grace joined the back of the group with Jenny. They paused in the narrow corridor that ran between the rooms. ‘We begin in the library,’ Keeley announced. ‘This is where Eliza’s collection of treasured books is kept but also where she spends much of her working day. I believe she has just laid down her quill for tea, but you may see evidence of her latest work at her writing desk. Take care with your drinks or the housekeeper, Mrs Mortiboy, will be most displeased.’

Pushing back the door, she ushered them through. Grace immediately looked towards the table in front of the fire and was pleased to see steam curling from the tea cups. The woman in front of her noticed too, and let out a little gasp. ‘Look,’ she said, tugging on the sleeve of her friend. ‘It’s freshly made.’

Other members of the group had gravitated towards the writing desk. An excited conversation broke out as they peered down at the paper spread beneath the quill pen.

‘Excuse me, Dr Cotterill,’ a spry but elderly gentleman called out, only to be shushed by those around him. ‘How else am I supposed to get her attention?’ he demanded crossly, as Keeley approached.

‘Do you have a question?’ she said, smiling.

The man pointed at the half-filled page on the desk. ‘Is that a page from Eliza’s unpublished manuscript? The Merriest Month?’

Keeley feigned confusion. ‘Certainly it is unpublished, sir. As you can see, Eliza is in process of writing it. Her only published work to date is The Mistress of Pendennis.’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said impatiently. ‘But is this a genuine page from The Merriest Month? I read about it in The Bookseller. Wasn’t it found in this very room?’

Dutifully, Keeley peered at the page. ‘Yes, I believe it is a page from that work. How remarkable. You heard about it from a bookseller, you say?’

The rest of the group crowded round, chattering excitedly as they tried to decipher the writing. Keeley stepped back and winked at Grace, who realised at once that this was exactly what she’d hoped would happen.

‘She’s so clever,’ Jenny whispered in admiration. ‘I bet all these people are Eliza superfans. They’re beyond excited to be getting an exclusive peek at The Merriest Month.’

Grace did not confess that she’d had a much earlier exclusive viewing of the novel, when Keeley had allowed her to read it soon after finding it. She very much approved of the idea that Eliza and her work now had superfans, however. It was a very welcome development after so many years of being underappreciated.

After a few more minutes had ticked by, Keeley cleared her throat. ‘Eliza’s publisher will not thank us for keeping her away from her desk. We should make our way to the smoking room next door before her tea becomes too cold to enjoy.’

Obediently, the group followed. Grace closed the door behind them, in case Belinda or Sue slipped into the library to empty the tea cups.

‘As you may be aware, Eliza takes quiet enjoyment in remaining an unmarried woman,’ Keeley confided to her audience. ‘But it does not follow that she dislikes male company. This room is often filled with gentlemen of her acquaintance and you will find the tobacco chest overflowing with the most pungent and rare leaf. The drinks cabinet is likewise stocked with the very best brandy and port. Eliza likes nothing better than to make merry with those she holds in high esteem and I have heard that she is particularly skilled at card games. Those who challenge her to a hand of Vingt-et-un do so at their peril.’

The drawing room was next, with its smaller but no less sumptuous Christmas tree; Grace made a mental note to compliment Raff on it the next time she saw him. She hid a smile as Keeley pointed out the four empty stockings, hung for Eliza’s nieces and nephews. In the kitchen, it was clear that a festive feast was being prepared; a saucepan of rich stock hung from a hook above the flames, bubbling merrily, and a tray of freshly baked mince pies sat steaming on a trivet. They looked so inviting that Grace was tempted to steal one. Keeley evidently anticipated the temptation because she warned the visitors they would only burn their fingers.

Returning along the corridor to the hall beside the front door, Keeley led them upstairs next, through Eliza’s bedroom and dressing room where they lapped up the explanation that Eliza would be attending a ball in London the following day and could not decide which dress to wear. Along the landing, they paused in one of the spare rooms that had been laid out as a nursery. ‘While Eliza has no children of her own, she loves the sound of their laughter,’ Keeley told the group. ‘She encourages her brother and sisters to visit as often as they can, and takes extended trips to their houses whenever her work allows.’

Jenny slipped away as they returned downstairs, to prepare to lead her own talk. ‘Meet you in the staffroom in a few minutes,’ Grace whispered. ‘Deep breaths, you’re going to be brilliant.’