Belle (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 2) (8 page)

8: An Advertisement

The sisters set to work early the following morning. Grace filled several sheets of paper, only slightly marred by ink blots, with the names of all those of their acquaintance who must be invited to dinner. At first, there was no dissent. Mr Ambleside was the first name, and the Endercotts and Mr Burford followed. Then Sir Matthew and Lady Graham, and the Dowager Countess of Humbleforth, whose hospitality they had enjoyed and could now return.

“And Sir Osborne Hardy,” Grace said.

“We have not dined there this year,” Amy said. “Is it quite proper?”

“He has been in Italy for months,” Connie said. “He could not invite us to dine when he is not there himself.”

“No, but his mama was at the Manor,” Belle said. “We have been able to dine out for some time now, but we have had no invitation. I do not think he should be on the list. Besides, if you invite him, there is his friend, his mother and his sisters besides.”

“Oh, but he must be invited!” Grace said. “He is so eligible, and for all he has been gadding about all over Italy in pursuit of this contessa, it came to nothing in the end. He was interested in Amy at one time, so you may very well have a chance with him, Belle.”

Belle laughed and shook her head. “No, no, no! It was his mama who was interested in Amy. She wants a meek, conformable wife for her son, and I am not in the least meek or conformable. But by all means invite Sir Osborne and his family if you wish. And Mr Wills, too, for was he not on the list for Amy, before Mr Ambleside elbowed him aside?”

“Indeed, he must be invited, and his mother and his aunts and his cousin, too,” Grace said. “I declare, these gentlemen have too many relations. I do not mind the cousin, for single gentlemen are always welcome, but a man’s female relatives should have the good sense to retire to Bath or to marry and not plague him for ever.”

“Mr Wills is a much better prospect than Sir Osborne,” said Connie. “Everyone knows he is in need of funds.”

“I do not know how true that is,” Belle said. “He has recently bought a new phaeton and pair, and I heard that he plans some extensive improvements to Thornside, at least one new wing, with a domed roof. There was mention of a tower with battlements. He has engaged a builder.”

“And he is
fat
,” Dulcie wailed. “I do not want any of us to marry a man who wears corsets and creaks when he bows.”

“Let him be invited to dine, then, but I shall not marry him if you do not like it, Dulcie dear. Grace, you have forgotten Cousin Henry, Mary and James.”

“I have not forgot, but I will set them down now. They must come, of course, for they do not dine out very often, so it will do them good.”

“They do not dine out very often because they seldom return the compliment,” Belle said.

“Willowbye is so inconveniently situated, and the roads round about are very bad,” Amy said. “I am sure they would entertain more often if there were less mud.”

At that moment, Young entered with a letter on a silver tray. “For Miss Grace,” he said, his calm tones belying the unusual nature of his mission.

“A letter? For Grace?” Dulcie said. “You are mistaken, Young.”

But Grace tossed her pen aside, scattering blots liberally over the paper, and jumped up. “Oh! So soon!”

“You are expecting this?” Amy said, in shocked tones. “Sister, do you really think—?”

“Thank you, Young. You may go now,” Grace said, snatching the letter from the tray and skipping away to the far side of the morning room.

As soon as the butler had withdrawn and the door was closed, Grace giggled. “What do you think, sisters? I put an advertisement for a schoolmaster in the Brinchester Gazette last week, and this must be a response to it.” She broke the seal and unfolded the page. “Yes, it is! A Mr Oak. That is a good English name, is it not, so he must be a most respectable person, and he has references, too. He is to come tomorrow to be interviewed.”

“Here?” Amy said. “You have invited him to come here?”

“No, no. The school house, of course. We shall interview him there.”

“Interview him? Yourself?”

“Yes. Why ever not?”

“Because it is not fitting,” Amy said. “Really, Grace, you should leave it to Mr Ambleside.”

“Stuff! We cannot wait forever. Amy, I know Mr Ambleside is a very good sort of man, and he has been most helpful, but he is too cautious at times.”

“I do not think it possible to be too cautious when it comes to offering employment,” Amy said, colouring. “It is for a man to engage a schoolmaster. Ladies may deal with the female servants, but men know best how to appraise another man.”

“Nonsense! We can manage the business perfectly well by ourselves.”

“Amy, do you expect Mr Ambleside today?” Belle said. “If you were to tell him of this Mr Oak—”

“We do not need Ambleside!” Grace said. “This is
my
school, and I have managed every bit of it myself, so far. I think I am the best person to judge who is suitable to teach in it.”

“I do not doubt it, dear,” Belle said. “However, Mr Ambleside has more experience of the world, and can advise you. That is all I suggest. He could oversee the interview, perhaps, and offer his opinion.”

“But he is gone to London today,” Amy said. “He has business to attend to, before…” She coloured prettily. “Settlements and so forth. He wishes to talk to his lawyers. He will not be back for a week or more.”

“Perhaps Mr or Miss Endercott…” Belle began, before realising from Grace’s expression that the case was hopeless. She might have been persuaded to accept Mr Ambleside, but she would not call upon anyone else.

“Then we will all go,” Belle said. “With six of us, we should be able to form a considered opinion of this man. But only if Mama permits it.”

And so it was agreed.

~~~~~

If Belle had harboured any hope that her mother would put a stop to the interview with Mr Oak, she was to be disappointed.

“I have already given my permission for this school to be set up,” Lady Sara said. “Whatever needs to be done, you may do. I trust to your good sense not to do anything improper or foolish, but I have no interest in the trivial details. I suppose Miss Bellows is still suffering from her fever? Well, it is no matter, so long as you are all together, and none of you are ever alone with this man, however respectable he may be. So he was private tutor to the Duke of Mortshire’s boys, was he?”

“For five years, yes,” Grace said eagerly. “And at a very exclusive school in Scotland before that — the Glenelg Academy.”

“Ah yes, I know of it. So why does he wish to take a post in a village school?”

“He injured his leg in a hunting accident, Mama, so he desires something less arduous.”

“Be sure to read his references carefully. It is what is
not
said that is significant. He should be honest, and a hard worker, and punctual. If those are not mentioned, be on your guard.”

“Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.”

The need to watch over Grace took precedence over Belle’s arrangement with Mr Burford to hunt for more money boxes. She did not quite like to write to him directly to postpone their engagement, for a single woman writing to a single man was open to misinterpretation if the fact were to be discovered. Instead, she wrote to Miss Endercott, explaining the reason for the change, and requesting that she convey the information to Mr Burford, to save him a wasted journey. She also had the happy thought that she might use her visit to the village to settle a few of the long-outstanding accounts of the tradesmen there.

The sisters set off to walk to the village after breakfast. It was a fine autumn day, cold and crisp, the leaves just beginning to fall and every bush aflame with berries. They walked through the woods, falling naturally into their pairs, as their father had decreed, so that Belle and Amy were side by side, and behind them Connie and Dulcie, whispering together, and at the rear Grace and Hope, chattering animatedly and occasionally shrieking with laughter.

“We should be practising our Greek,” Amy said sadly. “Or perhaps reciting a poem. Papa would be horrified to hear the others behaving in such a lax way. A walk is for the improvement of the mind, and observation of the wonders of nature, he always said. Although the observation of nature is for the return walk,” she added, so quietly that Belle barely caught the words.

“Amy, you are the only one of us who misses Papa’s scheme for improving our minds,” Belle said, tucking her arm into her sister’s. “We have been thoroughly educated to the furthest extent of our abilities, and although I do not suggest that we have passed the point where improvement is no longer possible, I believe we have reached an age when we may decide for ourselves whether to devote our hours to learning poems by heart or reading in Greek. For myself, I enjoy Greek and read it with great pleasure, so long as I am not asked to copy lines, or learn them by rote, or be tested every day and found wanting. But if you wish to recite a poem, dear sister, I am very happy to listen to it.”

“Would you? I should like that very much.” Immediately Amy launched into a very long and very affecting poem about a man whose daughter had died at the age of thirteen. Had it been read with dramatic intonation, as Mr Burford might have rendered it, Belle would have been weeping the whole way, but as it happened Amy’s recitation was rather flat and dull, for which Belle was heartily grateful. It would not do to arrive in the village with red eyes and wet cheeks.

As they approached the village, the line of pairs resolved itself into a long file, with Amy at its head and Hope at the rear. Belle wondered how many years it would be before these ingrained habits were finally lost. Not so long, she suspected, for soon Amy would be married, and then everything would be different. And not long after that, she would herself be married. That was not an event she looked forward to with any great pleasure, however, so she put all such thoughts out of her mind.

Just before the first cottages of the village, they turned aside to the former gamekeeper’s cottage, which was set a short way down a narrow lane. Before it came into sight, however, they heard raised voices, which grew louder as they approached.

“Someone is at the school,” Grace said, hurrying on.

“Several someones, if I am any judge,” Belle said. “Grace! Do not run ahead! Wait for us!”

But Grace was already round the corner. Belle abandoned any pretence at dignity, picked up her skirts and ran after her. She arrived at the schoolhouse in a rush, almost colliding with her sister, who had stopped abruptly, her mouth round with surprise.

Facing her, red-faced and thoroughly bad-tempered, were three men. From their manner of dress, respectable but poor quality, Belle set them down as tradesmen of some kind.

“At last!” one said.

“Thank goodness!”

“Now we are getting somewhere.”

And as one they began to advance on the two sisters, and the four coming up behind them.

Hope squealed in alarm, and jumped backwards, and Amy hid behind Belle. Grace and Belle stood their ground.

“What is this about?” Belle said, attempting to echo her mother’s sternest tones. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come about the job,” one said.

“And so have I,” said another.

“And I, but neither of these fellows will stand aside, even though I was here first.”

“You are all here for the position of schoolmaster?” Belle said.

“Aye, it was in the Gazette…”

“I saw the advertisement…”

“It said to come on Tuesday, so…”

Belle groaned. “Grace, did you put the direction and date in the advertisement?”

“Of course! But I expected the applicants to write to me first, you know. That would be the correct way, not simply appearing on the doorstep.”

Even as she spoke, two more men arrived from the village. “Well, you had better come inside,” she said.

Belle tugged at her sleeve. “Do you think that is wise? Why not invite them in one at a time — to examine their references and so forth. The rest may wait outside until it is their turn.”

“What, stand out in this cold weather? I hardly think so. They may wait in the front parlour, while we talk to each one in turn in the schoolroom.”

Reluctantly, Belle agreed to it.

“I do not like this,” Amy whispered.

“Nor do I,” Belle whispered back. “Let us get through this as quickly as we can.” She consoled herself with the thought that Mama had sanctioned the interview, and that therefore it could not be improper. Her conscience reminded her that Mama knew nothing of the contents of Grace’s advertisement, and would be horrified if she could see what was happening. Belle was horrified herself, but she could not quite think what could be done about it.

Besides, the men had come in good faith, because there was a job to be had. They had come all this way from Brinchester or one of the villages round about, getting lifts from the farmers or carriers, and some must have walked, judging by the mud on their boots. Clearly they were keen for the employment. It would be cruel to send them home again without even hearing what they had to say. They would talk to each man in turn, and then, one by one, they would go away.