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‘He didn’t look short of anything to me,’ Eliza murmured.
Abigail giggled. ‘I wonder what’s brought him out here.’
‘Who cares? Let’s just hope he stays.’
Johnny Farrow brought the horses to a standstill at the foot of the steps in a jangle of bits and brass. Thomas stepped forward to open the carriage door, his red hair gleaming in the sunlight like the polished copper jelly moulds on the kitchen dresser.
‘Have you seen the London footman?’ Eliza flattened her apron as the wind caught it.
‘Oh, aye, I’ve seen him all right,’ Abigail muttered. He’d made it impossible not to see him, sauntering along the kitchen passage with his hands in his pockets, getting in the way and making out it was her fault for almost bumping into him. He’d looked her up and down, his eyes hovering over the top of her apron as he’d introduced himself as Walter Cox, his accent as foreign in these northern hills as if he’d come from somewhere far across the sea. ‘Very sure of himself.’
‘But handsome.’ Eliza flashed her a sideways grin. ‘What’s that they say about London omnibuses? You wait forever, and then two turn up at once. Even in a backwater like Coldwell.’
‘Aah, here we are, home sweet home!’
Below, Sir Henry’s middle-aged son emerged from the carriage behind his russet spaniel and—while the dog darted about excitedly, pink tongue lolling, plumed tail waving—puffed out his chest and took an expansive lungful of air.
‘The old place actually has a bit of sun on her! Not ruddy raining for once, eh, Goddard? Good show, good show.’
Mr Goddard’s rickety frame trembled beneath the hearty clap Randolph Hyde landed on his upper arm, but Hyde didn’t appear to notice, turning round to shout at the dog, which was lifting its leg against one of the stone pillars.
Kate stood stiffly at the foot of the steps, a smile of welcome pasted to her face. She was surprised to see how much Coldwell’s heir had aged since his last visit. The spring sunlight showed up the network of broken veins on his cheeks and the puffiness beneath his eyes. He was just past forty, but years spent in the Indian sun (and in the bar of the Bengal Club) had given him the appearance of a man much older.
‘Not much of a welcome party.’ Hyde’s dissipated blue eyes flicked without interest over the servants assembled on the steps. ‘Is my sister not here yet? And no sign of the old man…?’
‘Lord and Lady Etchingham are coming by carriage, Mr Hyde. They have yet to arrive,’ Mr Goddard said gravely. ‘Sir Henry is waiting for you in the Yellow Parlour. The cold—’
‘You don’t need to tell me about the bally cold, having been sitting in that God-awful carriage for the last hour.’ Hyde’s tone was petulant and he clapped his hands together, addressing the woman who was preparing to step down from the carriage. ‘Come along, my dear! Allow me to introduce you to the legendary Goddard, without whom Coldwell would quite simply crumble. And the delectable Mrs Furniss…’
Kate didn’t allow her smile to falter, though beneath the black silk of her sleeve, her flesh shrank from the hand he placed on her arm.
Thomas extended his hand to assist Miss Addison. The woman who emerged from the carriage was neither young nor fashionable and was wearing a rather fussy ensemble of cornflower-coloured silk that managed to look both obviously new and singularly old-fashioned. Kate bowed her head respectfully, raising it to see Miss Addison step on the flounced hem of her dress and stumble. Blushing fiercely, she shook out her skirts and gave a self-conscious laugh that showed prominent teeth.
‘Oh dear, how clumsy of me.’
‘Come along—let’s get inside,’ Hyde snapped, looking around for his dog. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Ready for tea at the first instance, swiftly followed by something stronger. Boy!’
Thomas jolted to attention, but it was the dog Randolph Hyde was calling. It came bounding back from where it had been capering on the grass, running between the horses’ hooves to follow its master, who was climbing the steps to the house.
Kate went forward. ‘Welcome to Coldwell, Miss Addison.’
There was a figure still seated inside the carriage. The lady’s maid, she supposed—they’d been told Miss Addison would bring one. Her drab clothing made her merge with the shadows, though Kate glimpsed a flash of white on her coat. Above it, the woman’s face was lost to the gloom, but Kate caught the gleam of her eyes. Like an animal, unblinking.
Deliberately, she turned her attention to Miss Addison. ‘If you’d like to come with me, I’ll show you to your room. I’m sure you must be tired after your journey.’
‘Oh—yes! How kind, thank you.’
As Kate climbed the steps, her senses prickled with awareness that she was being watched from inside the carriage. Pausing in the hallway for Miss Addison to catch up, she noticed that the delicate gold finger of the barometer was pointing to Change.
The servants’ basement was all noise and jostle when Kate went down after showing Miss Addison to her room. Wicker baskets were piled up in the kitchen passage, and there were trunks and valises stacked in the gloomy space beneath the stairs, waiting to be taken up and unpacked while the family were having tea.
Miss Addison’s maid was hovering by her mistress’s trunk, as if guarding it from brigands. When she saw Kate, she came forward with an air of brisk purpose. The flash of white Kate had noticed in the carriage was the ribbon of the temperance movement, pinned to her lapel, and for a moment Kate imagined she was about to thrust a pamphlet at her.
Instead, she said, a little testily, ‘I’ve been waiting for someone to show me to Miss Addison’s room. I have her jewellery here’—she held up a flat case, her eyes fixed on Kate with that peculiar intensity she’d sensed before—‘which I’m instructed to leave in the safe. You do have a safe here?’
‘Of course—Miss Dunn, is it?’
Kate matched the other woman’s crisp tone. To be completely correct, a visiting maid should have been referred to by her mistress’s surname below stairs, but visitors were rare enough at Coldwell to make such formality unnecessary. ‘If you give it to me, I’ll take care of it. Miss Addison is in the Kashmir Bedroom.’ She pointed to the bell board high up on the wall. ‘If you wait here, I’ll find one of the girls to take you up.’