At ten o’clock, after a nice lie-in, Winifred and her son got up and began to eat their breakfast. She heard the mail drop through the letter box and went into the hall to pick it up. She frowned as she studied the top envelope, which was addressed to her. It was plain but expensive-looking, with the address embossed on the back: Dalton House, Welworth, Hampshire.
Norris reached for the marmalade jar and began slathering some on his toast. ‘Who’s that from?’
‘I’ve told you before, spread that marmalade more thinly. I’m not made of money.’
He waited. ‘The letter, Ma. Who’s it from?’
‘It must be those people Harriet’s working for.’ She turned it in her hand, wondering why she felt so reluctant to open it, then got angry with herself and deliberately tore through the fancy embossing.
‘Goodness me, it’s from Mr Dalton, not his wife.’ After a moment, she exclaimed, ‘What?’ then reread it carefully.
By this time her son’s attention was fully on her and his toast was lying unheeded on his plate. ‘Is something wrong? What’s happened?’
‘Harriet’s upped and run away, the ungrateful bitch. I find her a job, not just any job, mind, but a good one, and this is how she repays me.’
‘The money will stop now.’
‘So Mr Toffee-Nose Dalton says. But he wants to know where she might have gone, says she hasn’t worked her notice and must be brought back to complete her obligations.’
She let out a huff of amusement. ‘He can use all the long words he wants, but how the hell would I know where she’s gone? And why should I care if she works out her notice for him or not if I’m not getting paid?’
‘Can I see it?’ He stretched out his hand.
She passed it to him.
Norris frowned as he read it. ‘You didn’t mention the lawyer’s letter. Why would a lawyer be writing to Harriet?’
Shrugging, his mother poured herself a cup of tea.
‘Dalton gives the name of the lawyer, see: Harrington and Lloyd, Swindon. We should find out what they want with her.’
‘I’m not going off on a wild goose chase to Swindon. It’s probably nothing.’
He was drumming his fingers on the table. ‘Lawyers don’t usually write letters for no reason. Think about that, Ma. Why do lawyers usually write to people?’
‘To try to get money off you when you’re in debt,’ she said promptly.
‘Or … ?’
Their eyes met and suddenly she was as interested as her son. ‘Or they write to tell you a relative’s died and left you something. She couldn’t have run away from the Daltons without money, could she, because I take all her wages? She must have got hold of some money.’
‘Did Harriet have any rich relatives, Ma? You always said Benson’s folk were as poor as church mice.’
‘They are. But her relatives, those of his la-di-da wife, might have had some money, I suppose. James told me there weren’t any rich ones, but you never know. Sometimes an old person dies and leaves more than people expect.’
‘If Harriet’s been left anything,’ Norris said slowly, ‘then it should come under your control. You’re her guardian till she’s twenty-one, after all.’
‘If she’s been left anything,’ Winifred said sarcastically. ‘It’s a big word, if is.’
‘Might be worth poking around, though, to find out for sure. We’re doing all right these days, you an’ me, but I’ve only just started making my way. You can never have too much money, and she would only waste it. Tell you what: I’ll go down to the library later and see if they have a town directory for Swindon.’
‘Even if they do have one, it’ll be out of date.’
‘Worth a try, isn’t it? Legal firms often pass from father to son, so it probably won’t matter if it’s not the latest directory. If I can find an address, we’ll write to them. I bet they’ll know where she is. We’ll claim to be soooo worried about poor little Harriet.’ He chuckled as he crammed the last of the toast in his mouth, then pushed his chair back and stood up. After wiping his hands on the dish cloth, he went to don his outdoor clothes.
‘Where are you going? It’s not time for you to start work yet.’
‘Got to see a fellow.’
She stared down the hallway, watching him pull his bowler hat right down and button up his overcoat. He’d fallen in with some rough types. And though he was making money, it wasn’t in the way she’d wanted for him. Or for herself.
He opened the front door and she heard him curse at the sight of the rain slanting down. He turned up his collar, slammed the door shut behind him and left at a run.
Winifred shut the hall door and went to sit near the stove. It was going to rain most of the day, she reckoned, with those lowering skies. She wasn’t going out today, not without a very good reason.
She couldn’t stop thinking about that letter, though. She’d done well out of Harriet and didn’t want the money to stop, though it was bound to one day, of course. It had mounted up, that money had. Every quarter she got a postal order from the Daltons’ man of business, and took great pleasure in paying it into her savings bank account. What with that and James’s insurance money, her life had become easier than she could ever remember.
She earned enough for her daily needs by helping Norris with the accounts for his various little businesses he’d set up. Debt-collecting for others round men’s paydays, lending out small sums of money himself, nudging those who’d borrowed to pay him the interest weekly, even if they couldn’t pay the loan back. Stupid fools they were to borrow like that. She’d never got into debt and she was never going to.
Norris had grown into a big, strong man and people were scared of him, but he had been careful not to get on the wrong side of the law. ‘One day I’ll have enough money to be respected in this town,’ he always said. ‘So though this isn’t nice work, I’m doing it honestly.’
She found doing accounts easy, had always been good at figures, while Norris hated paperwork of any sort. He was like his father in that, but not in other ways, thank goodness. She’d been young when she married Philip Harding, too young to realise how lazy he was, or how violent.
Harriet’s father had been a better husband. She missed James sometimes still. It could get lonely of an evening. He’d been pleasant to live with, had never hit her, not even once, and had brought home money regularly. He’d also been good in bed, very good. She missed that.
But she wasn’t getting married again. She didn’t intend to give up her savings to any man. Not even her son. It was her security, that money was.
Miss Bowers led the way into the library at Greyladies. ‘This is my favourite place in the whole house. Miss Agnes used to allow me to borrow her books. Such a joy, reading! She knew I’d take care of them.’
She waited and when Harriet didn’t play hostess, she went on, ‘Shall we sit in the bay window, dear? It’s so light and airy there.’
Harriet did as she was told, feeling rather shy with this confident old lady.
‘My first question is: do you want to have a chaperone?’
‘Mr Boyd says I need one if Joseph’s going to be staying here, which I’d like him to do. He’s such a good friend, you see, and he has nowhere else to go because he’s only just left home. Would you mind coming to live here with me?’
‘Mind? I’d be delighted. It’s lonely living on your own, and besides, I’m writing a history of Greyladies and the Latimers, and all the diaries and other old papers are here in the house. Miss Agnes wouldn’t allow me to take them away. She said they belonged here.’ She waited as the young woman studied her.
Harriet smiled at her, suddenly looking happier. ‘I’d really like you to be my chaperone, Miss Bowers, and to help me. I was a maid before, so I don’t know how to be mistress of a big house like this.’ She gestured round her. ‘And to tell you the truth, I still can’t believe I own it.’
‘You’ll soon learn what to do. You seem an intelligent young woman. I can always tell the clever ones. It shows in the eyes.’ She paused, head on one side. ‘All right. I’ll take you on.’
As the younger woman beamed at her, Miss Bowers said thoughtfully, ‘The first thing you’ll need is to get some help in the house, which means hiring a few servants. The place has been empty for a while.’
Harriet’s smile faded. ‘A few servants? I thought just one maid for the rough work and … and perhaps we’d send the washing out.’
‘One maid won’t be enough in a house this size, as you’ll realise if you think about it. Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure you’ll have more than enough money to pay them and I’ll not need paying. I’ll only cost you my keep.’
‘Oh.’
‘People need to earn a living, you know, so you’ll be helping them by giving them jobs. One of the housemaids is still in the village, living with her family and doing occasional days helping out here and there. Flora, she’s called, and I know she’d love to come back here. It was her home for twenty years and she was the senior housemaid for half that. The under housemaid found herself a job in London as soon as the house was closed down and off she went, but Flora wanted to stay near her parents, who’re getting on a bit.’
She waited but Harriet was still looking shocked at the idea of employing several servants. ‘There are one or two families in the village with daughters of the right age, and they’d be glad to find them work here, close to home.’
‘You think I should hire two maids?’ Harriet said faintly.
‘And a cook, also a scrubbing woman, a visiting laundry woman, plus a lad to help in the garden and with the odd jobs. That’s the least you can get away with.’
‘Oh, my goodness!’
‘If you don’t need fancy cooking, Livvy Hessing was widowed a couple of months ago, and not only does she need the money, she’s lost with nothing to do, because she never had any children. She’s a good plain cook, but she couldn’t put on a fancy dinner party, mind.’
Harriet laughed. ‘I wouldn’t know how to hold a dinner party, fancy or not, even if I knew any people to invite to one.’
‘You will one day.’
Miss Bowers heard her own voice echoing and could see that Harriet had heard it, too. ‘There it goes again.’
‘What?’
‘The echo. It happens when someone in the house foretells what will happen. Haven’t you heard the echo yet?’
‘Yes. But I thought it was my imagination. Do you believe in such things? Mr Lloyd doesn’t.’
‘Oh, yes, I definitely do. Especially at Greyladies. Strange things happen here sometimes, and even then not everyone sees them. You must have the family gift if you’ve been chosen as the Lady, so you’ll see and hear them, but you mustn’t be afraid. The spirits who visit this house are good ones.’ She let that sink in for a moment or two, understanding that the poor girl had a lot to take in.
But Harriet surprised her. ‘I’ve already heard the echo and seen the Lady – if you mean the lady in the portrait at the top of the stairs, that is. It says Anne Latimer on the frame.’
‘She was the first Mistress of Greyladies. She always comes to welcome a new Lady. Now, we must get back to practicalities. We can manage without a full-time gardener for the time being, but in a few weeks, we’ll need one to start planting the vegetable garden. We need to hire the four indoor servants straight away and—’
Harriet’s voice came out all squeaky. ‘Do we really need four?’
‘At least. It’s a big house. The owner doesn’t scrub her own floors or wash her own dishes, you know.’
Harriet let out her breath in a big whoosh. ‘It’s a good thing I’ll have you to help me, Miss Bowers.’
‘I think I was meant to help you, dear. I know the house better than anyone else, because Agnes and I were very friendly, and during her final year or two she showed me many of its secrets.’ She patted her young companion on the shoulder. ‘It’ll work out all right, you’ll see.’
She glanced towards the window. ‘Now, let’s send Mr Lloyd home while it’s still daylight and start settling in. If you will choose which bedrooms people should have – and you can put me anywhere, I’m not fussy – I’ll nip into the village to see Flora and Livvy, and order some food. Those two men must be getting hungry now. Men eat so much more than women.’
She moved towards the door, then stopped to add, ‘After you’ve chosen the bedrooms, you could start making up the beds, if you don’t mind. There’s plenty of linen up in the attics, first cupboard on the left at the top of the stairs. If the sheets don’t feel damp, don’t bother to air them, because there are far too many other things to do before we can seek our beds tonight.’
She watched with approval as Harriet visibly pulled herself together.
‘I’d better say goodbye to Mr Lloyd, then, and tell Joseph you’ll be coming to live here as my chaperone, so it’s all right for you to stay. I wonder where to put him. He doesn’t find it easy to go up and down the stairs.’
‘Is he badly crippled by his infirmity? I haven’t seen him get out of the wheelchair.’
‘He can walk, but not easily, and stairs are painful for him.’
‘He has a kind face, not bad-looking, either, and he seems intelligent, so it’s only his body that’s not working properly. I don’t know how we can find him a bedroom on the ground floor, though.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Harriet said. ‘There are two empty rooms in the old part of the house, just off the big hall. They didn’t seem damp or anything. He can sleep in one of those and his man Frank can have the other.’
‘What a good idea. They’re quite big rooms, too, and it’ll be much more acceptable to the people round here if he lives in a separate part of the house from you.’ She smiled mischievously at Harriet. ‘The villagers will find out every detail of what you do at Greyladies, you know. Better be prepared for that.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Being the Lady is a big responsibility and you won’t be able to hide away and live quietly, because you’ll be wanting to use your money to help others. The Ladies always do.’
‘I’d like to do that, help others, I mean.’
‘You’ll have enough money to do a lot of good. Helping people used to give your Cousin Agnes a great deal of pleasure.’ She looked at the clock and clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘I’d better go and see Flora and Livvy. You say goodbye to your lawyer, then sort out those bedrooms.’
Mr Lloyd was just coming back into the house as they went into the hall. ‘Ah, there you are, my dear Miss Latimer. I have to leave now, but I’ll come back in a day or two to sort out the paperwork with you. You’ll have to come into Swindon one day as well.’
She looked puzzled.
‘You need to have access to the bank account to pay your bills. We’ll arrange to meet the bank manager and hand things over to you.’ He pulled out a purse he’d brought and pressed it into her hand. ‘Here are fifty pounds to start you off.’
She stared at the money in amazement. ‘But … I don’t need that much.’
He laughed. ‘You don’t have to spend it unnecessarily, but you ought to be prepared.’
‘I’ve never had even a savings bank account before. My stepmother took nearly all my wages.’
‘It’s not difficult to manage the accounts. Miss Bowers will show you how.’
Harriet looked very young, standing at the top of the front steps to wave him goodbye. He hoped he could keep her safe. She had no family to do that, so what she really needed was a husband, a strong man who would be kind to her and keep her stepmother at bay.
But before she could find a suitable husband, she had to learn to live as a lady should.
Well, at least he’d left her in good hands for now. He had a lot of respect for Miss Bowers. She would guide the new Lady better than anyone else could.
When Norris came home that evening, he twirled his mother round the living room.
‘Stop that, you fool! What’s wrong with you?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me. In fact, everything looks very promising. I consulted a lawyer today. If Harriet has inherited anything, the money will be in our charge while she’s a minor. And it’ll stay with us after that, if I have any say in the matter.’
‘You don’t know that she’s inherited anything,’ Winifred said sourly.
He tapped his nose. ‘I can feel it. Money. It makes my nose itch.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘Well, we’ll soon find out. I’m going over to Swindon on Friday to see this lawyer chappie.’
‘I thought you were going to write to him.’
‘I want to see his face when I tell him you’ll be in charge of the inheritance. Exchanging words on paper doesn’t show you whether a man’s lying or not.’
‘I still think you’re wasting your time and money. Harriet won’t have inherited anything worthwhile.’
‘We’ll see.’ He tapped his nose again.
When the schoolteacher had left to go into the village, Harriet suggested to Joseph that he take one of the bedrooms in the old part of the house.
‘Good idea. Let’s choose it now.’
The rooms were spacious but empty, the floors and window sills dusty. There was no furniture, though there were cupboards filled with junk.
‘I suppose that can be cleared out later,’ she said. ‘I need to find some paper and start making a list of jobs to do. Anyway, if you’ve decided on this room, I’ll go and find Frank to help me move some beds down.’
He caught hold of her hand. ‘Thank you, Harriet.’
‘What for?’
‘Letting me stay here.’
‘You’re my only friend.’
‘And you’re mine.’
They stood staring foolishly at one another for a few seconds, then she flushed and pulled her hand away. ‘I’ll go and find Frank.’
He’d been exploring the old stables and was just coming back to find his master. ‘I don’t think those stables and outhouses have been cleared out for years, miss.’
‘Never mind those. Miss Bowers is going to move into Greyladies and Mr Dalton will be staying here in the old house, so I need you to help me with the beds.’
He scowled. ‘Making beds is women’s work.’
‘We all need to help where needed,’ Joseph said quietly from behind them.
‘Anyway, I don’t need you to make up the beds,’ Harriet said. ‘I want you to pull some beds to pieces from the new part of the house and bring them down, so that you and Mr Dalton can use these two rooms. I can put the sheets on the beds, if that’s too hard for you.’
Joseph frowned at his manservant. ‘Nonsense. Frank can help with that as well. Maybe I’ll try to help him. It can’t be all that hard to hold one end of a sheet.’
Somehow Joseph’s quiet words seemed more effective than an outright scolding.
Frank shuffled his feet. ‘Sorry, sir. Miss. I wasn’t thinking.’
Harriet nodded acceptance of his apology. ‘I can help you carry the pieces of bed frame down, if you need help. I’m stronger than I look. Let’s go upstairs now and see if we can find some single beds. Will you be all right, Joseph?’
‘Yes, of course. You don’t mind if I explore the old part, do you?’
‘Not at all.’
With so many bedrooms in the new part of the house, they soon found some suitable beds and while Frank went off to look for tools in the outbuildings, so that he could unbolt the frames, Harriet went up to find the linen room that Miss Bowers had told her about.
She still had to choose rooms for herself and Miss Bowers. She quickly sorted out some sheets and pillowcases for Joseph and Frank and took them down to the old house.
Then she went back to the new house, where she found two particularly lovely bedrooms, one at each end of three-sided landing, both looking out over the front gardens. It was easy to tell which one had belonged to her cousin Agnes, because it was still full of the old lady’s possessions, while the drawers and cupboards in the similar front-facing room at the other end of the three-sided landing were empty.
Yet it was Agnes’s room which attracted Harriet. She found herself speaking aloud, as if her cousin could hear her. ‘Would you mind if I use this room?’
It was probably silly, just her imagination, but she felt a sense of warm approval.
From the bangs and thumps, Frank was busy dismantling and erecting the bed frames.
When she went to check on his progress, she found he’d set up the two beds already and had started to make them up, with Joseph’s inexpert help. She paused in the doorway to watch them, two young men of about the same age. They were laughing hysterically over the mess they were making of such a simple job. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Joseph having fun before, so crept away and left them to it.
Feeling thirsty now, she went into the kitchen, but was hesitant to tackle the task of lighting the big, old-fashioned cooking range. She didn’t want to dirty her clothes because she hadn’t many decent ones, and if this range was anything like the one at Dalton House, it’d have its own peculiarities. Better wait for the new cook to do that.
She began to check what was in the cupboards instead.
A few minutes later Frank peered in. ‘We’ve made up Mr Dalton’s bed.’ He grinned. ‘It doesn’t look as good as when my mum makes a bed, but it’ll do. Mr Dalton said I should sleep in the room next to his. Is that all right with you, Miss Latimer?’
‘That’s fine. I’ll leave you to make up your own bed.’
He saw the open door of the unlit stove and came to join her. ‘Want me to light that thing for you first? Talk about old-fashioned. I could do with a cup of tea and something to eat, if you don’t mind me saying so, and I daresay Mr Dalton will want one too.’
‘You light it, I’ll make the tea.’
There were slow, dragging footsteps and she turned to see Joseph walking slowly along behind his chair.
‘I thought I’d move round a little … if you don’t mind, Harriet?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. Why should I?’
There were footsteps outside the kitchen door and Miss Bowers came in, carrying a bag and a basket. She was followed by two women who were similarly laden. ‘Oh, good. You’re making some tea! I’m parched.’
She gestured to her companions. ‘I offered Flora and Livvy jobs, as you wished, and they’re happy to start straight away. This is your new mistress, Miss Latimer.’
Harriet smiled at the two women, both many years older than her. She was determined to make their working lives as happy as she could. ‘I’m so pleased you can start now. There’s such a lot to do here.’
Livvy moved forward. ‘I can finish making the tea, miss, if you like. Mr Pocock from the shop is sending up some food to put us on till we can give him a proper list, an’ he’s sending word to Farmer Brunson that we’ll need milk regular and Mrs Brunson sells eggs, so I said to send a couple of dozen … if that’s all right. Miss Bowers said it would be. But me and her brought her milk and bits and pieces of food from home, so we can use them now. No use letting good food go to waste, is there?’
‘Certainly not. I don’t even know where things are here yet, but I’m sure you will, Flora, so perhaps you can help Livvy to settle in. Oh, and this is Frank, Mr Dalton’s manservant.’
The two women looked him over curiously, then turned back to their new mistress.
‘You leave this to us, miss,’ Livvy said. ‘I’ll soon get used to things. It’s a fine big kitchen.’
Flora beamed at Harriet. ‘It’s good to be back. It’s a nice place to work at, Greyladies is, such a happy house.’
Miss Bowers beckoned to Harriet to follow her into the hall. ‘Best to leave them to get on with making us some tea. It’s their job, after all. Livvy had a little cry when I spoke to her, she was so happy to find a job, and Flora hasn’t stopped smiling since I told her you needed her back.’
‘I’m glad.’
Miss Bowers picked up her small suitcase. ‘I’ll go home and pack the rest of my clothes tomorrow and get someone to bring my trunk up to the house. Which bedroom have you chosen for me?’
They went upstairs and she approved the choice, to Harriet’s relief.
As they walked along the landing, Flora called out from the hall below, ‘Tea’s ready, miss. Do you want it bringing up?’
‘No, we’ll come down, thank you. Could you send Frank to fetch Mr Dalton from the old part of the house, please?’
Harriet knew better than to take her tea in the kitchen, even though that would have been quicker. It’d make the maids uncomfortable to have her there. Miss Bowers suggested they use the small morning room for their meals as Miss Agnes had done.
Frank was soon back, pushing Joseph’s wheelchair. ‘Shall I see to the oil lamps after I’ve had a cuppa, miss?’
‘Yes, please.’ Suddenly Harriet felt extremely weary and she saw that Joseph was looking pale and tired. She sat down and let her head fall back against her chair.
‘We’ll have a restful evening. You don’t need to sort everything out at once, as long as we’ve got somewhere to sleep,’ Miss Bowers said.
‘Thank you for letting me use the old part of the house, Harriet.’ Joseph smiled at her. ‘It feels very welcoming, if that doesn’t sound silly.’
‘It doesn’t sound at all silly.’ Harriet felt the same about the whole house.
‘We’ll unpack our clothes after we’ve drunk our tea,’ Miss Bowers decided.
There was a tap on the door and Flora peered in. ‘Frank says you’ve not eaten anything since breakfast, Mr Dalton, so I’ve brought Miss Bowers’ tin of biscuits. We can buy another tin from Mr Pocock till Livvy can make some of her own.’
‘Good idea.’ Miss Bowers handed round the biscuits and insisted they both eat two or three, to keep up their strength.
By eight o’clock that evening, they’d had a scratch meal.
Afterwards, Joseph gave up trying to stay awake and went off to bed. Harriet was wondering if it would be impolite to retire early too. ‘Perhaps … an early night?’
Miss Bowers had watched her try to hide another yawn and laughed. ‘You sound so hesitant. Don’t be, my dear. You can do anything you like in your own house, stay in bed all day, dance the night away, whatever you want.’
It would take some time for her to get used to that freedom, Harriet thought. ‘I will go to bed, then. I’m exhausted.’
The bedroom was quiet, with more shadows than light. Harriet set her oil lamp down on the small bedside table and sat on the bed for a few moments, looking round, thinking what a lovely room it was.
Then she got her nightdress out and snuggled down under the covers, where she found that one of the maids had put an earthenware hot-water bottle. Such a luxury to have that done for her!
She’d expected to have trouble sleeping in a strange house, but could feel herself slipping into sleep straight away.
Her last thought was that she’d come home. She really had.