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“An unmarked carriage, with a discreet driver and a guard,” Henry interjected.
“Bess, would you like Cecily to go with you? She considers herself your maid, darling.”
“Thank you, but I'd rather go alone,” Bess said as a blush dusted her cheekbones.
“Northaw has a small staff of servants,” William said, squeezing Bess's hand and watching her blush deepen.
On the drive to Northaw, Bess carefully went over the things she had packed to make sure that in her excitement she hadn't forgotten anything. Long trained to pack up entire households, she decided to take bed linen, food, and wine. In her head Bess also went over the things she would say to the staff of Northaw. Because she had been a servant, she knew how they wished to be treated.
The moment she arrived Bess asked the housekeeper, Mistress Bagshaw, to assemble the servants. The indoor staff consisted of the housekeeper–cook, a pantryman, a footman, and two housemaids. She discerned immediately that Mistress Bagshaw ruled the roost and knew if she won her over, the others would follow.
“I have been asked by Sir William Cavendish, the new owner of Northaw, to prepare the house for his arrival. I am Mistress Elizabeth Barlow from Suffolk House, where Sir William spends his time when he is not at Court. I realize how difficult it is to serve a new master.” Bess looked directly at Mistress Bagshaw. “I will help you all I can and beg that you will help me. I understand you do not know how Sir William likes his household run. Neither do I.” Bess smiled. “We shall learn together. Thank you very much.”
She repeated her little speech for the outdoor servants, the gamekeeper, the stableman, and the grounds keeper, then she returned to the carriage to speak to the coachman and his guard.
“A Mistress Bagshaw is in charge here; please defer to her in all things. There are ample chambers on the third floor. Ask for anything you need. Thank you for a safe and pleasant journey.”
Bess, with Mistress Bagshaw at her side, soon set the maids to dusting and polishing. The food and wine were turned over to the pantryman, and the mounds of fresh bed linen carried upstairs to the second floor.
She chose a spacious bedchamber with long windows that looked out over the garden and the Chiltern Hills. She stripped the big bed down to its feather mattress, then used the bed steps to reach the dusty curtains. When all was removed Bess flung open the windows and bade the maids give the chamber a thorough cleaning.
When the room was spotless, Bess made up the bed with fresh linen, a soft woolen blanket, and a green velvet bedcover. Then the footman helped her hang her own matching bed-curtains. By the time the chamber was finished, the afternoon shadows were lengthening.
“Thank you, we'll do the second bedchamber tomorrow. I'll unpack my own trunk,” she told the maids. “Go and help Mistress Bagshaw in the kitchen.” To the housekeeper she said, “I'll just have a light supper of fruit and cheese—and perhaps a little of that delicious soup I smell.”
On the day that William was to arrive, Bess filled Northaw with flowers from the gardens. She gave Mistress Bagshaw a detailed menu for dinner, then spoke to the footman. “Sir William will most likely bring his own manservant, James Cromp, but could you please scrub out the wooden bathtub upstairs and make sure there is ample hot water ready? Sir William will wish to bathe and shave when he arrives.”
Bess tried to control her excitement, but as the hours ticked by she found she could not. It would have been easier to hold back the tide than the happiness that was building inside her. In the early afternoon she bathed and changed into a pale green gown that she knew was one of his favorites. She brushed her heavy mass of red-gold hair until it crackled and touched all her pulse points with the scent of April violets.
Some inner sense told her he was here, and already breathless and giddy, Bess flew down the stairs and out the front door of Northaw just in time to see him arrive. Astride the black stallion, his great horsemanship was evident, and she knew he was aware of the splendid figure he cut. As Bess watched him dismount, a dozen emotions swam together, threatening to engulf her. As well as elation and excitement, uncertainty made her feel shy and tongue-tied. What would he say to her—what would she say to him?
Then suddenly she was in his arms, his lips whispering against her ear, “Why aren't you in bed?” Then his deep laughter rang out, and she saw the teasing amusement in his eyes and knew why she loved him so much.
No longer tongue-tied, her sultry laugh matched his. “You are a damned rogue!”
