There was a short pause, followed by a sniff. ‘Not at the moment, but I’m certain he’ll come to appreciate this room eventually. In the meantime, I shall maintain it, in accordance with his father’s wishes. The former marquess left a list of extremely detailed, but kindly meant instructions regarding the management of both the house and estate.’
‘Instructions?’ Florence wrinkled her brow, struck by the word. ‘Surely you mean suggestions?’
‘No, I do not.’ The housekeeper bristled. ‘His Lordship’s father was in charge of the estate for fifty years. He knew exactly how it ought to be run. His letter was addressed to his son, of course, but there were sections pertaining to both myself and Mr Sewell, the steward. We each received copies.’ Another sniff. ‘Mine is one of my most prized possessions.’
‘Oh.’ Florence pressed her lips together. It was only natural that the former marquess should have wanted to guide his son, she supposed, but the thought of him continuing to manage the estate from beyond the grave struck her as somewhat morbid. She had a sudden vision of a ghost floating around the hallways, issuing ‘instructions’…
She blinked, pushing the image away. ‘It just sounds a little restrictive. I mean, surely times change?’
‘Times may. Rainton Court does not.’
‘But shouldn’t the new marquess manage the estate ashesees fit?’
Mrs Fitch drew herself up to her full height. ‘The new marquess is aware that he has a great man to live up to. He keeps the letter on his desk for that reason. He would not, I am certain, wish to damage his father’s legacy by making any unnecessary changes. Fortunately, however, despite one regrettable setback, for which he was blameless…’ here she paused significantly ‘…I’m pleased to say that he’s doing an admirable job of following in his father’s footsteps.’
‘If you say so.’ Florence gritted her teeth. She was half tempted to keep on arguing, to say that, given the chance, maybe her husband might surpass his father, but she had a feeling there was no point. Besides, why shouldshestand up for him? Especially when she was obviously the ‘regrettable setback’ being referred to.
‘Now, if you could direct your attention to this cabinet, my lady,’ Mrs Fitch went on. ‘It dates from the sixteenth centuryand was made in the Netherlands by Jozef van Stappen, a master craftsman from the Gelderland region. Note the brass handles…’
‘Would you care to sit down, my lady?’ a voice murmured.
Florence smiled over her shoulder, feeling a powerful urge to hug the speaker. Nurse McKay had insisted on joining the tour, a gesture that had irritated her at first, but now seemed like one of supreme self-sacrifice. It felt reassuring to have an ally beside her, somebody who not only had her well-being at heart, but, more importantly, was offering a route of escape.
‘Actually, I think I might need a rest.’ She interrupted the housekeeper. ‘Perhaps we could have some tea?’
‘Of course, my lady.’ Mrs Fitch inclined her head.
‘And then perhaps you could tell me all about the household?’
‘The household?’ For the first time, a flicker of some emotion passed over the housekeeper’s face, a look almost akin to panic.
‘Yes, so I can learn how to manage it myself.’ She forced a smile. Unappealing as the prospect of another lecture might be, this was one she needed to hear. If her husband wasn’t prepared to consider either a divorce or an annulment then it was important for her to learn her new responsibilities, at least until she could find some way to change his mind.
‘Forgive me, my lady, but as we discussedbeforeyour accident, my understanding is that I have been entrusted to run the household.’ The housekeeper’s tone was anything but apologetic. ‘His Lordship certainly hasn’t informed me otherwise.’
Florence sucked in a breath, her hands curling into fists at the insult. Becauseof courseher husband didn’t want her running his household. He probably thought her incapable of managing anything so grand. She wasn’t the woman he’d wanted to marry. She wasn’t even the type of woman he’dwanted to marry. His frigid manner the other night had made that abundantly clear. She was, or had been, a companion, little more than a servant to a man like him, and he already had a housekeeper, makingherredundant.
A shiver rippled over her skin, as if a cold hand had just pushed its way into her chest and wrapped around her heart. Because if he didn’t want her to manage the household, what did he expect her to do instead? Even if she hoped that her time as marchioness was temporary, she still needed some kind of role or she’d end up like one of the marble statues in the gallery, voiceless and frozen, with no purpose but to simply exist!
‘Naturally I would be willing to listen to any suggestions Your Ladyship might have,’ Mrs Fitch went on, her voice resuming its usual monotone.
‘Would you?’ Florence answered tightly.Suggestions.‘Or would you need to get His Lordship’s approval first?’
There was a moment of silence before the housekeeper simply folded her long fingers over her waist. ‘Well, now that’s settled, if you’d care to follow me to the blue morning room, my lady, I’ll ring for some tea.’
Florence didn’t move, her mind spinning at the utter injustice of what she’d just learned. It was bad enough that her husband blamedherfor their marriage, but now it seemed he intended to humiliate her as well, treating her as a marchioness in name only.
If only she could remember what had happened in London! Then she could defend herself properly. Or, failing that, if only she could speak to Jane again. If she’d told anyone about the events leading up to her marriage, surely it would have been her lady’s maid, but her nurse was like a limpet stuck to the side of a ship. She absolutely refused to leave her alone, making private conversation impossible.
Although…it occurred to her suddenly that Jane had already told her something.Look in the bag, she’d said, as if that would explain everything.Look in the bag.
‘On second thoughts…’ she called out, just as Mrs Fitch reached the door, ‘I think I’ll go and lie down.’
‘Of course, my lady. I’ll have some tea sent up to your room.’
‘That’s not necessary.’ She turned to the nurse, putting on her most ingratiating expression. ‘Perhaps you’d be so kind as to make one of your special remedies? The last one was so invigorating.’
‘Why, I’d be happy to, my lady.’ The nurse positively beamed at the compliment. ‘I’ll just help you upstairs first.’