Page 117 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

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‘Kitty’s maid left us in Paris,’ Giles told his mother.

Lady Stainton looked at Kitty as though wanting to ask, ‘What did you do to drive her away?’

‘My mother only took her on for the Season,’ Kitty found the courage to say. Lady Stainton was undoubtedly the biggest of all hurdles to cross. ‘I thought when she agreed to come away with us—’

‘We thought she was permanent,’ Giles took over for her. ‘But evidently she thought differently.’

‘Rose had better attend her for the moment,’ said Lady Stainton. ‘Rose is quite accustomed to attending female visitors who don’t bring their own maid.’

Giles thought this sounded slightly disparaging, but it was not the moment to probe his mother’s attitudes. He was glad there were others present to dilute the company – Linda and Cordwell, Uncle Sebastian, Aunt Caroline and Grandmère. And Richard, ready to defuse any situation with wit and jokes. The girls, hanging back as usual, seemed pleased to see him, and gazed at Kitty as if they longed to carry her away with them to the nursery.

And the dogs, who came to overwhelm him with passionate adoration: swinging tails, butting heads, yards of tongue. ‘What have you been doing to them?’ he asked facetiously. ‘Beating and starving them?’

‘We’ve tried to be nice to them,’ Alice said, ‘but they’d decided you were their new master and no-one else would do.’

Giles’s things had been put into the Blue Bedroom. He had managed up until his wedding to resist being installed in the Queen’s Bedroom, and had half suspected his mother would have ordered the change in his absence, but evidently she’d had other things on her mind.

Kitty had been put in the Tapestry Room. It was one of the grand rooms on the first floor, and Giles had never used it, or he might have made a protest on Kitty’s behalf. Conducted to it by Rose, she looked around with misgiving. As its name suggested, it had walls lined with a series of ancient tapestries depicting the chase. All the colours but blue and green had been leached out of them over time, and the effect was consequently gloomy. There were heavy blue drapes at the window and over the massive bed; ancient black oak furniture, and dark oil paintings mostly featuring the results of hunting – limp birds, bloodied hares, dead salmon. The one opposite the foot of the bed depicted a stag, brought to its knees, rolling its eyes up in despair as the hounds tore out its throat.

Rose, standing behind her temporary mistress, wondered what sort of person would paint such a thing, let alone hang it in a bedroom to be the first thing you saw when you woke up. She also knew, from the servants of visitors who had slept there, that the mattress was the worst in the house. It was the largest room, after the Queen’s Bedroom, which might be assumed to be the reason the dowager had assigned it to the new countess. Rose wondered, however.

‘It’s – rather sombre,’ Kitty said.

‘Yes, my lady,’ said Rose. She was taller than her ladyship by several inches and felt suddenly rather protective towards her. ‘There are other rooms.’

‘You mean, I could change?’ Kitty said doubtfully. Rose only gave her a sturdy look that said You can do anything you like. Kitty gulped. ‘Perhaps I’ll have a look tomorrow. I don’t want to make a fuss now, when I’ve only just arrived.’

‘No, my lady,’ said Rose. If she was going to pitch her will against the dowager’s either there would be a battle royal, or instant capitulation and tears. Not having any means to judge the new countess’s mettle, Rose didn’t know which. Personally, she wouldn’t sleep in this room for a pension. ‘The White Chinese Room is nice, though not as big as this.’

Kitty sensed friendship coming from this tall, rather gaunt maid. ‘Could you choose something for me to wear tonight? I’m not sure how formal it will be.’

‘Gladly, my lady,’ Rose said, pleased. It was nice when new people didn’t throw their weight around straight off. Boded well for a happy adjustment. ‘I can do your hair for you as well, if you like. I’m accustomed to doing ladies’ hair.’

First of all James sought out Crooks. Certain things had to be settled. ‘Don’t think you’re going to walk back in as his lordship’s valet,’ he said brutally, cornering Crooks in the valets’ room.

Crooks looked up from ironing Mr Sebastian’s white tie – the valets’ room had its own ironing board. ‘I’ll thank you not to speak to me in that tone of voice,’ he said, temporising. He had been thinking for two days about the situation, unsure whether he wanted to go back to his old duties. He was comfortable with Mr Sebastian, who didn’t need much looking after, which gave him more free time. And less responsibility. On the other hand, there was the question of status. He didn’t want James lording it over him; and the other servants would think less of him if he meekly stepped aside.

‘I’ll use any tone I like,’ said James. ‘The fact of the matter is I’m his lordship’s valet.’

‘Temporary,’ said Crooks. ‘For the journey overseas, that’s all.’

‘Says you! You weren’t up to it. You were making mistakes all over the place, remember? I stepped in and saved your bacon. Lord knows what’d’ve happened if you’d gone abroad with them. You’d never have coped.’

‘I will always cope with whatever is required of me,’ Crooks said, striving for dignity.

James put on his most scornful face. ‘Oh, yes? And what would have happened in Capri, if I hadn’t been there? You couldn’t have done what I did.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Of course you don’t. But I’ll tell you. I saved her ladyship’s life, that’s all. She’d have drowned if it hadn’t been for me – now then! D’you think you could’ve thrown yourself into the sea and swum to her rescue? I don’t think so! His lordship’d’ve been a widower by now if I hadn’t taken over from you. So don’t think he’s going to take you back after that. You just be grateful you’ve still got a job.’

‘I don’t – I didn’t—’ Crooks quavered. James had somehow made him feel that her ladyship almost drowning was his fault, when he hadn’t even been there. ‘How did it happen? How did she—?’

‘Never mind. You’ll hear. I’ll tell it all tonight downstairs. You stay out of my way and you’ll be all right. I’m in good with Mr Sebastian – I’ll put in a good word for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Crooks said automatically, and James had whirled away before he could think straight. ‘I don’t need a good word from you,’ he said, annoyed with himself. How was it that James always got him in a tizzy? An over-hot smell alerted him just in time to the fact that the iron he was holding was still resting on the white tie. Damn that man!