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The staff gathered in the kitchen, the coziest room of the house, in William’s estimation. They sat around the old oak table that had always been there: Mrs. Holly, Grimshaw, Matthew, Samuel, and Mrs. Brill, with William seated at the head. Mary was in the kitchen, too, but was busy scrubbing pots, and John and Sally were elsewhere in the house doing their chores.
Mrs. Brill had made a fresh pot of tea and had set it in the center of the table, along with a plate of scones that had been significantly depleted by the men present before William had even had a chance to speak.
He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. After they quieted, he began. “I have come here today with important news and to ask for your help,” he said. “I am happy to announce—”
“Will is getting married!” Mary cried out, turning abruptly from the sink, pots clattering.
There was an audible gasp around the table, and Mrs. Brill clutched her hands at her chest. Samuel, who already knew, sat back in his chair and grinned.
“That didn’t take long,” Matthew said.
“Well, don’t just sit there,” Mrs. Holly added. “Tell us who she is.”
“Her name is Lady Louisa Hargreaves, and it goes without saying that she is making a huge sacrifice in marrying me,” William said without explaining just how huge of a sacrifice it was—or the fact that it hadn’t been her preferred course of action. “Lady Louisa is the daughter of the Marquess of Ashworth. I am quite lowly by comparison.”
There were more gasps, of a different nature this time.
“You can’t bring the daughter of a marquess here with the house all bare bones and such!” Mrs. Holly exclaimed. “The upper classes are demanding. There were plenty of house parties here before your time, where we were dealing with impossible demands at all hours of the day and night from your father’s lofty guests. How is it to be done?”
“Lady Louisa isn’t like that,” William replied, hoping to reassure her.
“Food won’t be a problem, milord,” Mrs. Brill said. “That’s something, at least. We been that careful the past years gone by to make preserves and the like. Chickens and plenty of game about too. I still got most of my cookin’ tools; yer father didn’t put too much stock in my kitchen.”
“That’s because he was too busy eating while he looked around for things to pawn,” Grimshaw said. “Begging your pardon for saying so, milord.”
“No pardon needed,” William replied wryly. “I know as well as all of you what my father was like. I can only hope you were spared his presence as much as possible after—”
After his mother passed away.
“He had little enough to do with us the past eight years,” Mrs. Holly said in a kind voice. “And as you can see, we’ve survived well enough. What is the lady like, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Leave it to Mrs. Holly to take the conversation down a more pleasant path. “I believe you will find Lady Louisa to be kind and unpretentious, despite being of such exalted lineage.”
“And?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.
And what? He racked his brain. “And she’s pretty.” It had no bearing on the conversation, but it was an answer, albeit Mrs. Holly looked less than satisfied.
The men began to fidget, which cleared things up considerably in William’s mind: Mrs. Holly was apparently trying to discern if theirs was a love match. Unfortunately, any answer he gave her in reply would be a disappointment. “And,” he continued, “when Lady Louisa arrives here, I want her to feel comfortable in her surroundings, and I don’t want Farleigh Manor to put any of us to shame.” He shrugged his shoulders. “At least, as much as that is possible. Thank you all, and I beg you will forgive me for asking such an impossible task of you today.
“I am expected back in London tomorrow evening, so we must roll up our sleeves and organize our plan quickly. My father didn’t leave us with many options in that regard.” Grimshaw muttered something under his breath that William decided to ignore. “And so we will have to be clever and resourceful about it. But if there are any people in England I trust to be clever and resourceful, it is all of you.”
“Don’t ye worry, Master Will,” Mrs. Brill said with confidence. “Now that ye’re back at Farleigh Manor, all will be well.”
“We’ll not let you down, sir,” Grimshaw said, standing and straightening up as tall as his old bones would let him. “You can count on us.”
William had asked for a miracle from them. He doubted he’d get it, but he was confident he would get everything they had to give, and what man could ask for more? But even knowing he could rely on them to do their best, he wanted to examine the manor in as fine a detail as possible himself. He’d barely glanced at the place when Mr. Heslop had summoned him home after his father’s death. If there was anything now that he could see, anything he could suggest to the staff to help make Louisa’s initial reaction to Farleigh Manor a positive one—or more importantly, her willingness to stay a reality—he would do all he could in the short amount of time he had to accomplish it.
He decided to begin with the house, so his first stop was the sitting room on the main floor.
As a boy, this room had been filled with elegant furniture. Now there was little of it left. The couch he remembered was still there, its upholstery now faded and frayed. Two chairs sat at right angles to it, creating as much of a conversation spot as possible. There were no tables.
The paper hangings on the walls were faded as well, except for a few scattered rectangles that clearly indicated where paintings had originally hung. There had once been a landscape Gainsborough himself had painted hanging above the fireplace mantel, one his father had won in a game of whist.
The drawing room was in much the same state as the sitting room. The dining room, which had once held an elegant mahogany table with matching chairs, was now completely empty. William suspected that his father, on the rare occasions when he’d deigned to visit, had opted to eat in his study after he’d sold off the lot. The staff undoubtedly ate in the kitchen, as they had done today.
The west wing of the first floor held the portrait gallery and music room. Those two rooms had been designed with large double doors between them so both rooms could be utilized if the family were to hold a concert or a ball. William had never seen a concert or recital of any sort performed at Farleigh Manor, nor had there been a ball here that he could remember. He did recall there being a small pianoforte in the music room at one time. A quick peek showed that it, too, was gone.
