Lady Gwendolen Investigates

‘I said as how my mistress didn’t intend to break the journey for long, and that we’d be comfortable enough eating our broth in the coffee room.’

‘Which is no less than the truth,’ Gwen quickly avowed. ‘According to the post-boys, we should reach our journey’s end, barring any mishap, before evening.’

‘And as long as the old master’s housekeeper has received your letter, everything should be in readiness for our arrival.’ The maid beamed across the table, her small, round eyes positively aglow with excitement. ‘You must be longing to see your new home, Miss Gwennie. I know I am.’

‘I’m longing to see Jane again far more.’ Gwen released her breath in a sigh. ‘She must have changed a good deal in the years since I’ve seen her. I know I have.’

Martha’s smile faded. Her plump features clearly betrayed a moment or two’s thoughtful contemplation before being replaced by a look of gentle affection. ‘Not that much, miss, you haven’t,’ she eventually countered. ‘You still get that same wicked glint in your eye you had as a child when you’re amused by something, or annoyed. And you’re still not afraid to speak your mind on occasions neither, though thankfully you’re a deal less headstrong than of yore.’

Gwen didn’t waste her breath in fruitless argument, simply because there was a deal of truth in her loyal maid’s utterances, and merely said, ‘Well, let us hope dear Jane hasn’t retained that stubbornly independent streak of hers. She may have been overjoyed to obtain that position as governess to those two orphaned girls, granting her the God-given opportunity to remove to the West Country. And so conveniently close to dear Percival’s house, too! But it doesn’t automatically follow that she’ll be any more willing to come and live with me now that I’m taking up permanent residence in my late husband’s home.’

A shadow of mingled resentment and regret flickered across Gwen’s delicately featured face. ‘I haven’t forgotten she refused to oblige me six years ago.’

A completely trouble-free last stage of the long journey resulted in the post-boys’ prediction of a late afternoon arrival proving accurate. Consequently, Gwen was privileged to enjoy the first glimpse of her new home bathed in flattering pale-golden sunlight glinting welcomingly on mullioned windows. An untidy and overgrown garden detracted somewhat from what might otherwise have been a very pleasing setting for the Restoration building, as did the profusion of choking ivy clinging to the front wall.

If the truth were known, though, Gwen wasn’t so much concerned about the architectural merit of the house that was shortly to become her permanent place of residence, at least for the foreseeable future, as she was about the atmosphere prevailing within. Much, she strongly suspected, would depend on the character of the female her late husband had employed almost twenty years before to maintain the smooth running of his household.

Gwen knew next to nothing about Mrs Travis, save that she was a female now well into middle age, and that Sir Percival had considered her to be a first-rate cook-housekeeper, completely trustworthy and conscientious. So unless she discovered the woman to be quite otherwise, Gwen was prepared to allow things to remain as they were. More importantly, her own dear Gillie had promised not to interfere in the running of the house, and to continue with her duties as personal maid-cum-companion. So one might be inclined to take an optimistic view, expecting everything to run smoothly, and everyone to rub along together remarkably well. Except that Gwen, now, was nothing if not a realist, and was well aware that things frequently didn’t work out as one might have wished. Furthermore, love her though she did, she wasn’t blind to her dear Gillie’s faults.

Martha Gillingham had assisted in bringing Gwen into the world, and had always been treated as a member of the family, rather than a servant. Consequently Martha had never had too many restrictions imposed upon her.

The maid had never been afraid to speak her mind, airing her views whether called upon to do so or not. So, should it be discovered that the house wasn’t being maintained to the high standards to which she herself had always adhered, when she had held the position of cook-housekeeper in the late Reverend and Mrs Playfair’s home for all those years, she wouldn’t be reticent to point out any deficiencies on Mrs Travis’s part.

Gwen quickly discovered there was thankfully no possibility of an early confrontation between the two women, when she was admitted by a housemaid who wasn’t slow to impart the unfortunate tidings that Mrs Travis had taken to her bed.

‘Terrible poorly she be, ma’am. Took bad a few days back, but would drag herself about, as she knew you’d be arriving some time this week, and now the chill’s settled on her chest, so it ’as.’

‘Has a doctor been summoned?’

The housemaid appeared astonished, as though it were unheard of for a practitioner to administer to a servant. ‘No, ma’am…I mean, Lady Warrender.’

‘I should prefer you address me as Mrs Warrender,’ Gwen said, never having grown accustomed to the courtesy title bestowed upon her, simply because her late husband had received a knighthood in recognition of his unblemished record and acts of heroism whilst serving in His Majesty’s Army during the previous century. ‘And your name is?’

‘Annie, ma’am…Annie Small.’

Gwen was unable to suppress a slight smile as the name was somewhat incongruous. The rosy-cheeked Annie was definitely on the buxom side. ‘A doctor must be summoned at once,’ she ordered, her mind swiftly returning to the matter in hand. ‘I understand from Sir Percival’s man of business in London that a male servant is also employed here?’

Annie rolled her eyes, a clear indication that she didn’t wholly approve of the male employee. ‘Yes, ma’am, Manders. He be outside somewhere. Don’t come into the ’ouse much, on account of ’im being a lazy good-for-nothing and not seeing eye to eye with Mrs Travis, as you might say. Made ’imself a snug little place above the stable, so ’ee ’as. You can usually find ’im skulking up there.’

Although she was aware that prejudice often clouded judgement, Gwen strongly suspected that much of what Annie had related had not been too far removed from the truth.

From what she had seen thus far, the garden, although adequate in size, was by no means totally unmanageable for an employee willing to pull his weight. Anyone working outside, even in the remotest corner, would have little difficulty hearing the sounds of an arrival. Yet no one had appeared when the carriage had pulled up at the door in order to assist the post-boys and Gillie in bringing the baggage into the hall.

‘In that case, Annie, it shouldn’t be too difficult a task for you to locate his whereabouts, and dispatch him for the local doctor. But first I’d like you to take me to see Mrs Travis.’

The cook-housekeeper occupied a small apartment, consisting of two rooms, directly off the kitchen. Gwen’s first and very favourable impression was one of combined cleanliness and order. This was quickly overshadowed by a rush of concern, as she set foot inside the bedchamber, to find a thin, angular woman doing her level best to rise from the bed.

Mrs Travis’s assurances that she was now feeling a good deal better after her day’s inactivity, and was more than capable of creating a wholesome evening meal for her new mistress fell on deaf ears, as both Gwen and the loyal Martha headed across the room with purposeful strides. Severely weakened by the infection, Mrs Travis was no match for one, let alone them both, and returned to the warm comfort of her bed without attempting an undignified struggle, though clearly betraying signs of distress at being denied at least an attempt to fulfil her duties.

‘No one, I’m certain, supposes you contracted the malady on purpose,’ Gwen declared, after listening to the tearful apology. ‘Martha, here, is more than capable of catering for my needs, until such time as you are able to resume your duties. Which I sincerely trust will not be long delayed.’

At this assurance that her position as housekeeper was in no way in jeopardy, Mrs Travis began to appear a good deal easier, with the lines of concern that had been steadily increasing beginning to fade from above the lacklustre eyes. The further assurance that she was considered worthy enough to receive a visit from the local practitioner seemed to deprive her of the power of speech, and it wasn’t until Gwen alluded to the maidservant, Annie, that she was able to regain command of her voice.

‘But Annie hasn’t a permanent position here, madam,’ she revealed. ‘When the master’s man of business, Mr Claypole, wrote and told me a few weeks ago of your arrival back in England, he said as how I might employ extra staff in order to prepare the house for your arrival. He knew well enough there was only me and Manders here, on account of his visiting once a year to check for himself how things stood in the poor old master’s absence. He took his duties seriously. Never once forgot to pay our wages come quarter-day, and insisted I write to him, no matter how trivial the matter, if I was concerned about anything.’

As she too had been favourably impressed by Mr Claypole’s conscientious attitude, Gwen experienced no qualms whatsoever over retaining his services when she had called to see him shortly after her arrival in the capital at the beginning of the year. Her concerns now, however, were not about her business affairs, which she felt sure were in trustworthy hands. Her late husband had not left her a pauper. In fact, the opposite was true. He had ensured that she could live in comfort, and although she had no intention of wasting money on frivolous luxuries, she fully intended to concentrate her efforts on turning her late husband’s house into a home in which she might happily dwell.

Consequently, early in the evening, after the doctor’s prompt visit, and a swift exploration of each and every room in her new home, Gwen made a start on her objective. Taking herself up to the best bedchamber, which boasted a commanding view of the sadly neglected front garden, she began to unpack her belongings, some of which had been acquired during her recent sojourn in London.

In the process of hanging yet another new gown in the wardrobe, Gwen paused for a moment to cast a thoughtful glance across at the young maidservant who was proving to be both an obliging and cheerful soul, only too happy to remain later than usual in order to lend a helping hand.

‘I understand, Annie, that you’re not a permanent member of the household here?’

‘No, ma’am. Mrs Travis ’eard I were back at the cottage, taking care of me ma and the young ’uns, and so sent a message over asking if, mayhap, I’d like work for a week or two. Weren’t going to turn it down, not with ’ow things are at present. But I’ll need to find m’ self something more settled again afore too long, now Ma’s on the mend.’

After unravelling the salient points of this response, and asking a few more pertinent questions, Gwen discovered that Annie was currently seeking new employment owing to the fact that her last mistress had chosen to leave the area and reside permanently in Bath. Although having become extremely attached to the elderly lady for whom she had worked from an early age, Annie retained strong family ties, and had chosen not to accompany her mistress, but to return temporarily to the family home in order to care for her younger siblings, while her mother recovered from a severe bout of influenza.

‘Mortal bad she’s been, ma’am. Surprised she weren’t took, after the ’ard life she’s ’ad,’ Annie went on to reveal so matter-of-factly that Gwen was hard pressed not to laugh.

It wasn’t that she didn’t feel a deal of sympathy. It was merely that, having been the daughter of a clergyman, she had frequently come into contact with those much less fortunate than herself, and knew from experience that Mrs Small’s circumstances were sadly the norm for those less privileged members of the human race. Worn out by years of childbearing, hard work and a meagre diet, Annie’s mother was yet another victim of her class, growing old before her time. The wonder of it was that the poor woman had managed to reach middle age, something which her spouse, seemingly, had failed to achieve, having lost his life in an accident involving an unruly piece of horseflesh belonging to his employer, the Earl of Cranborne.

‘And was it because his employer felt in some way responsible for your father’s demise that he permitted your mother to remain in one of the estate cottages?’

‘Don’t expect so, ma’am. Much more likely it’s on account of our Jem working up at the stables as well. Our Betsy’s employed by his lordship too. She’s a chambermaid up at the Hall. But she stays up at the big ’ouse now. Just as well, ’cause it’s been mortal crowded in the cottage—what with Ma and the three young ’uns, not to mention Jem ’imself.’ Annie raised one plump shoulder. ‘I’ve got used to better, I suppose—a room to m’self. So the sooner I finds another situation, the better.’

‘And couldn’t you find work at Cranborne Hall? It would offer you the opportunity to remain close to your family.’

‘Not ’eard there’s anything going there.’ Annie shrugged again. ’Wouldn’t make no neverminds even if there were. I don’t want to work up there.’

Gwen was intrigued to discover this. ‘Why is that? Is the Earl not well liked in these parts, Annie?’

‘Oh, it ain’t that, ma’am. I don’t want to stay a parlourmaid all me life. Wants to better m’self, become housekeeper or some such. Not much chance of that ’appening if I went to the Hall.’

‘And are there no other large households hereabouts, or well-to-do families that might offer employment?’ Gwen wasn’t in the least reticent to make use of this golden opportunity to discover more about her friend Jane’s employer who, she was very well aware, was rumoured to be one of the wealthiest landowners in Somerset. Although she had never heard a word to his discredit, her late husband having enjoyed more than just a casual acquaintance with the gentleman in question, and his father before him, she thought it would be no bad thing to, perhaps, attain an unbiased view from another source before she paid a visit herself.

‘I recall my husband mentioning a Mr Northbridge, a close neighbour of his, I believe.’ She chose not to reveal at this juncture that she had a very dear friend employed as governess in the household. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of Jane’s status. Nothing could have been further from the truth. No, it was merely that she thought she would receive a more candid opinion of the aforementioned gentleman if she kept certain facts to herself.

‘Lord bless you, ma’am! I’d never get a job there!’ Annie exclaimed, much to Gwen’s intense surprise.

She then began to experience slight feelings of unease. ‘Why is that, Annie? Is he not—perhaps—a well-liked person?’

‘Oh, no, ma’am, it ain’t that. It’s t’ other way, if anything. I’m not saying he’s liked by everyone, but he is by most. And that’s a fact! He can be sharp, mind,’ she went on to divulge, after a moment’s thought. ‘Ain’t afraid to say what he thinks, Mr Northbridge ain’t. But ’ee’s fair. My big brother, Ben, him that toils down at the smithy in the village ’ere, would work for ’im tomorrow, iffen there were a situation going. Trouble is, nobody ever leaves Mr Northbridge. Not unless they’re taken away from the place in a box, that is!’

Gwen stared across at the parlourmaid for a moment in stunned disbelief. ‘What in the world do you mean by that, Annie?’

‘Well, ’tis this way, ma’am. Like anyone else, Mr Northbridge’s got ’is faults. All the same, there’s no denying folk lucky enough to get taken on at Bridge House stay there, and only leave when the Almighty decides it’s time for ’em to move on. Mr Northbridge knows fine our Ben would be ’appy to run the stables for ’im, and he’s promised Ben he’ll be given a job soon as there be one. But m’brother’s not daft, ma’am. He knows ’ee might be working at the smithy a good while yet.’

Gwen listened to these disclosures with decidedly mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was comforting to know that her dearest Jane had found herself a position where the head of the family was held in such esteem; on the other hand, though, it might prove no easy task to achieve her objective—namely to prise her dearest friend, the female whom she had always looked upon as a sister, away from this pillar of the community and persuade her to come and live with her now.