never hear of her being inconvenienced
or put out in any way. Personally she thought that Lady Withers should have
been discouraged, long before now, from roaming the kitchen in search of food.
She was very much of the view that the household should remain their side of
the green baize door and she could not stop herself from conjuring up images in
her mind of her mistress poking around in cupboards and inspecting the work
surfaces for dust or dirt, which was irrational because she knew that Lady
Withers was quite oblivious to such things. But her ladyship was not above
poking about in the refrigerator for food, as Mrs Palmer knew to her cost. On
one fateful occasion, the cook-housekeeper had come down one morning to find a
plateful of cold roast beef, earmarked for that day’s luncheon, gone and had
blamed all the servants in turn before discovering that Lady Withers had been
the culprit. After that an informal arrangement of sorts had been put in place
whereby each evening, before retiring to bed, Mrs Palmer would leave out some
food covered with a cloth for Lady Withers to sup from if she found herself
hungry in the middle of the night.
‘There is no way around it, Mrs Palmer, we will have to leave the door
unfastened. The only solution, as I see it, is to ensure that someone is on
watch all through the night.’ He raised his hand as Mrs Palmer looked as if she
were about to protest. ‘No, I’m not suggesting that it be left to just one
person to do. I’m proposing that Briggs, Bridges and I take shifts. I’m not
intending to use young Albert; he’s a good lad but I doubt he’ll be able to
hold his tongue about it. It makes sense for Bridges to take the first shift
and then he can go off to his cottage, I’ll take the middle one and then Briggs
can take the last. That way none of us will lose too much sleep so we’ll still
be able to undertake our duties satisfactorily and I’ll always be on hand, my
bedroom being just off the kitchen, should Lord Sneddon decide to grace us with
his presence.’
‘Well, if you’re sure, Mr Stafford, but it seems a lot of unnecessary
trouble to me. I’d sooner you lock the green baize door,’ replied Mrs Palmer,
wiping her hands on her apron. ‘There is something else that occurs to me
though.’
‘And what is that, Mrs Palmer? I thought I had covered every
eventuality.’
‘With regards the maids, yes you have, Mr Stafford. But it occurs to me
that if Lord Sneddon has an eye for girls of a lower social class to himself,
then there is another girl at risk that we haven’t considered.’
‘You mean –.’
‘Yes, Mr Stafford, I mean Lady Lavinia’s young friend, Miss
Simpson.’
Rose Simpson was, at that moment, walking around the formal gardens of
Ashgrove House with Lavinia and Constance, herself worrying about the imminent
arrival of Lords Sedgwick and Sneddon. Her concerns, however, regarding these
two young gentlemen were concentrated on what they would think of her, and how
she would come across to them, rather than of any untoward motives they might
have towards her. The thought that one of them might want to ruin her,
certainly had not crossed her mind. She was beginning now to have serious
reservations about accepting the invitation to Ashgrove. It was true that both
Sir William and Lady Withers had been welcoming, but the unexpected presence of
the countess had cast a shadow over the visit. Rose was already a little scared
of Lady Belvedere, who had left her in little doubt that she disliked her and
regarded her beneath contempt. The countess probably held her responsible for
her daughter’s continued employment at the dress shop and, if Rose was honest,
there was probably an element of truth in this for, if Lavinia had not found a
friend there but had had to make do with the resentful company of Sylvia or the
sycophant attentions of Mary, then in all likelihood she would not still be
there.
But all that paled into
or put out in any way. Personally she thought that Lady Withers should have
been discouraged, long before now, from roaming the kitchen in search of food.
She was very much of the view that the household should remain their side of
the green baize door and she could not stop herself from conjuring up images in
her mind of her mistress poking around in cupboards and inspecting the work
surfaces for dust or dirt, which was irrational because she knew that Lady
Withers was quite oblivious to such things. But her ladyship was not above
poking about in the refrigerator for food, as Mrs Palmer knew to her cost. On
one fateful occasion, the cook-housekeeper had come down one morning to find a
plateful of cold roast beef, earmarked for that day’s luncheon, gone and had
blamed all the servants in turn before discovering that Lady Withers had been
the culprit. After that an informal arrangement of sorts had been put in place
whereby each evening, before retiring to bed, Mrs Palmer would leave out some
food covered with a cloth for Lady Withers to sup from if she found herself
hungry in the middle of the night.
‘There is no way around it, Mrs Palmer, we will have to leave the door
unfastened. The only solution, as I see it, is to ensure that someone is on
watch all through the night.’ He raised his hand as Mrs Palmer looked as if she
were about to protest. ‘No, I’m not suggesting that it be left to just one
person to do. I’m proposing that Briggs, Bridges and I take shifts. I’m not
intending to use young Albert; he’s a good lad but I doubt he’ll be able to
hold his tongue about it. It makes sense for Bridges to take the first shift
and then he can go off to his cottage, I’ll take the middle one and then Briggs
can take the last. That way none of us will lose too much sleep so we’ll still
be able to undertake our duties satisfactorily and I’ll always be on hand, my
bedroom being just off the kitchen, should Lord Sneddon decide to grace us with
his presence.’
‘Well, if you’re sure, Mr Stafford, but it seems a lot of unnecessary
trouble to me. I’d sooner you lock the green baize door,’ replied Mrs Palmer,
wiping her hands on her apron. ‘There is something else that occurs to me
though.’
‘And what is that, Mrs Palmer? I thought I had covered every
eventuality.’
‘With regards the maids, yes you have, Mr Stafford. But it occurs to me
that if Lord Sneddon has an eye for girls of a lower social class to himself,
then there is another girl at risk that we haven’t considered.’
‘You mean –.’
‘Yes, Mr Stafford, I mean Lady Lavinia’s young friend, Miss
Simpson.’
Rose Simpson was, at that moment, walking around the formal gardens of
Ashgrove House with Lavinia and Constance, herself worrying about the imminent
arrival of Lords Sedgwick and Sneddon. Her concerns, however, regarding these
two young gentlemen were concentrated on what they would think of her, and how
she would come across to them, rather than of any untoward motives they might
have towards her. The thought that one of them might want to ruin her,
certainly had not crossed her mind. She was beginning now to have serious
reservations about accepting the invitation to Ashgrove. It was true that both
Sir William and Lady Withers had been welcoming, but the unexpected presence of
the countess had cast a shadow over the visit. Rose was already a little scared
of Lady Belvedere, who had left her in little doubt that she disliked her and
regarded her beneath contempt. The countess probably held her responsible for
her daughter’s continued employment at the dress shop and, if Rose was honest,
there was probably an element of truth in this for, if Lavinia had not found a
friend there but had had to make do with the resentful company of Sylvia or the
sycophant attentions of Mary, then in all likelihood she would not still be
there.
But all that paled into
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