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“Brian, sir,” the young lad chirped up.
Graeme nodded. “Bobby, after we’ve unloaded, please help the lad and Mr. Wilson get the horses settled for the night.”
“Aye, Mr. Kendrick.”
Graeme glanced at Mrs. Wilson. “Do you have any footmen?”
“Nae, sir.”
Sabrina blinked. “Not even one?”
“Any maids? Cooking staff?” Graeme tersely said. “Any staff at all?”
Mrs. Wilson’s mouth puckered up, as if the question posed a problem without an answer. “It’s nae easy to hire servants in these parts. I do most of the cookin’, and we have a scullery maid. And a Dunlaggan girl helps when needed. She’s comin’ tomorrow to tidy the bedrooms and wait on the ladies.”
“We’re going to need more help than that,” Ainsley said, casting a glance at the growing pile of luggage Bobby and the footman were unloading.
Sabrina felt rather overwhelmed, and sheneverfelt that way. There might not be family in residence, but there was still a manor house and grounds to be maintained. According to their business manager, the estate was still turning a profit, so there should have been more than enough resources for general upkeep. Unfortunately, Father’s former business manager had retired only two months ago at the venerable age of eighty-five, leaving an unorganized mess in his wake for the new manager to sort out.
Graeme muttered a curse. “All right, we’ll help our men unload the carriages. Hannah can help Mrs. Wilson get our rooms ready, while Lady Sabrina and Ainsley start assessing what we’ll need to survive in this benighted place.”
Ainsley let out a ladylike snort. “Well, aren’t you the bossy one?”
That simply deepened his scowl.
Oh, dear.Grumpy Graeme had reappeared. And hewasbeing rather bossy. Then again, he was a man who was good at giving orders, especially in difficult situations. Sabrina could sympathize, because she liked to give orders, too.
“Let’s hope it’s not benighted,” she said. “In fact, it looks like a splendid old place. I can’t wait to see the rest of it.”
“I’ve seen the necessaries and the rooms at the back of the house,” Graeme tartly replied. “And there is nothing splendid about them.”
Mrs. Wilson brightened. “The ladies will nae be havin’ to be usin’ the necessaries. We have indoor water closets, put in just before my lady’s grandfather passed. Although they’ve nae been cleaned in several a year,” she added.
Hannah let out a quiet moan, and even Ainsley looked a bit daunted.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Sabrina said. “It’s getting quite dark, and I don’t want anyone tripping while unloading the carriages.”
“If it’s dark, at least no one can shoot at us,” Ainsley joked.
Mrs. Wilson, who seemed to have a penchant for alarm, looked exceedingly rattled. “That is nae laughin’ matter, ma’am. There be bad folk in these parts.”
“And you and I are going to talk about that, Mrs. Wilson,” Graeme said, “as soon as we get everyone inside and settled.”
Sabrina decided it was time to reassert control. “Mr. Kendrick, I am the owner of Lochnagar Manor, and I will—”
“Bully for ye, lass. Now, get yerself inside before I dump ye over my shoulder and carry ye in.”
She bristled. “Mr.Kendrick—”
He pointed a finger toward the door. “Now.”
“You too, Ainsley,” Royal ordered.
“Men,” his wife replied in a disgusted voice before following the housekeeper up the stairs.
Sabrina glowered at Graeme, who was decidedly unimpressed by her show of defiance. Then she headed up the stairs and through the front door, Hannah trailing morosely in her wake.
They found themselves in a massive, circular hall lit by one branch of candles. It looked positively haunted in the dim light. Sabrina swore she could hear the leathery rustle of batwings up in the eaves.
