Emily (48 page)

‘And I no longer work for Mrs Marshall,’ Ginny said. ‘I gave up on her just after your trial. I was sick of her questioning and wanting to know every detail. I had no trouble finding other employment. As Mr Linton said, everyone knows me. And’, she added, ‘I was given today off as it was such a special day!’

They travelled in silence for a while until Emily, looking out of the window, exclaimed, ‘Oh! I know this road! We’re not very far from Elmswell Manor, where the Francises lived!’ She recognized the wooded area which surrounded the house and estate and sheltered it completely from the road. ‘I was so happy there until Miss Deborah became too attached to me and I had to leave. It was such a
beautiful house,’ she mused. ‘What I would give to see it again.’

‘Then let’s do that,’ Philip said and drew down the window and, putting his head out, gave instructions to the coachie.

‘Oh, but it will be all shut up, I expect, until Mrs Francis decides what to do with it.’ Then Emily became thoughtful. ‘What has happened to Miss Deborah, I wonder? Will Mr Francis have made provisions for her? I’m sure her mother won’t want her. Perhaps Mrs Brewer will look after her again, though she is getting too old to cope with Miss Deborah’s tantrums. Oh, she surely won’t be sent to an asylum like her brother! Mr Linton,’ she said formally, ‘I think I must enquire.’ She suddenly felt anxious. ‘I hope that someone is concerned for her, for her mother never was and neither was Hugo Purnell.’

Philip nodded in an absent-minded way and she gave a small frown at his apparent disinterest over her former young mistress.

‘And whilst we are here in the district I must enquire about Sam.’ She gave a sudden smile of happiness. ‘He will be so surprised and he won’t recognize me! I was not quite fourteen when I left Granny Edwards’s cottage.’ She gazed out at the familiar landscape. ‘So much has happened,’ she said softly. ‘I feel as if I have packed a lifetime into just a few short years.’

‘So you have, Emily.’ He roused himself and, she thought, he is listening to me after all. ‘But there is still so much of life ahead of you.’

Ginny looked discreetly out of the window as
Emily said softly, ‘What kind of life is ahead of me? I seem to have forgotten who I am.’

‘I know who you are, Emily.’ He gazed at her earnestly as he spoke, almost forgetting Ginny’s presence. ‘You can always ask me – or your friends.’

I am so afraid, she thought. I know I have his esteem, his love, but can I live up to his estimation of me? And I am so afraid that he would eventually regret his commitment towards me.

She turned her gaze to the window. They had turned up the drive of Elmswell Manor, the long drive where once she had walked with her childhood friend, Jane, to enquire for a position as maid. They were approaching the gatehouse and as they drove through, they saw three figures standing by the entrance of the main house. A woman of middle years, dressed in black, a younger woman who was holding her hand, and behind them standing on the steps was a tall, well-built, fair-haired man.

‘There is someone here after all,’ she said nervously. ‘We’d better turn back! Perhaps someone else has bought the house. Tell them we have made a mistake, Philip, and lost our way. We don’t want anyone thinking we have come out of curiosity.’

The coachman drew to a halt and jumped down to open the carriage door and fold down the step. Emily stared at Philip. ‘Why have we stopped? We can’t call without an invitation!’

‘You know the formalities so well, Emily! But we do have an invitation.’ Philip stepped out and gave her his hand to help her down. ‘At least I have. You don’t need one.’

Whatever did he mean? She lifted her head and looked towards the group of people who were coming towards them. Mary Edwards! But how could it be? She hadn’t been to the house since she was a servant girl, and that’s Miss Deborah with her!

‘Oh, Mary!’ she cried. ‘I’m so pleased to see you at last.’ Emily put out her arms to embrace her and saw the tears of joy on Mary’s face.

‘Miss Deborah.’ Emily bobbed her knee, but to her surprise Deborah too put out her arms to hug her.

‘Emily,’ she said in an excited voice as if she had seen Emily only a few days before. ‘Such things as you wouldn’t believe. I have a puppy of my own! Sam bought it for me as a present. He’s going to show me how to train her. You know Sam, don’t you?’ She turned to include the tall man standing behind them. ‘He’s my brother. Not the one who I thought had died, but a new brother and he says he will always look after me!’

Sam walked slowly towards her. ‘Hello, Em.’ He lowered his head and a flush touched his cheeks. ‘I’m right glad to see thee back.’

At his homely words, Emily was overcome with emotion. ‘I’m glad to see you too, Sam,’ she choked. ‘I can’t tell you how much,’ and she put her arms around his rough tweed jacket and held him close and felt the memories come rushing back.

‘And, Emily,’ Deborah chatted on, as if determined to tell all, ‘you’ll never guess what else! Mary – who was my father’s best friend – is Sam’s mother!’

Emily looked from one to another. So Mary and Sam had rediscovered each other after all. She saw the smile on Philip’s face and realized that he had known all the time. But why was Mary here, in the house where her name was never mentioned? Had she been employed to look after Miss Deborah? But who had engaged her? Not Mrs Francis!

‘Shall we go inside?’ Mary asked. ‘Luncheon is prepared, but first there are some others waiting to welcome you home, Emily.’

She barely heard what Mary was saying, so overcome and confused was she, but she followed her and Deborah through the great heavy doors, and Philip, Sam and Ginny followed behind.

In the coolness of the hall she could smell the fragrance of lilies and roses, which were set upon the gleaming polished table, and standing alongside it a line of servants was waiting. She gasped, not the servants she had worked with! Not Cook and Mrs Brewer! But yes, it was. Mrs Castle who had a dusting of flour on her cheek and Mrs Brewer, side by side. She grasped their hands and couldn’t stop the tears which coursed down her cheeks.

‘I’m so very happy to meet you again,’ she wept.

Mrs Castle wiped her eyes on her apron. ‘Why bless you, Miss Emily. It’s good to have you back home again.’

There were other servants whom she didn’t know, kitchen maids and housemaids, and rather strangely they bobbed their knee to her; but, she thought, they don’t know who I am and they have been well trained to greet guests of the house. She reached the end of the line and her tears had
almost abated, until she saw that Ginny had positioned herself there and had a broad smile upon her face.

‘Welcome home, Emily.’ Ginny kissed her and put her arms around her.

‘I’m so confused.’ Emily looked at all the smiling faces. ‘I don’t understand. How did you know that I was coming?’

Mary took her arm. ‘Come into the drawing room whilst Cook finishes luncheon and I’ll explain.’

She led her through to the room which she remembered so well. The room where she had once laid the fire and dusted the furniture and plumped up the cushions on the chairs and sofas, and where now she was invited to sit as if she were an honoured guest.

Deborah drew a stool near to Emily’s feet and sat hunched with her hands pressed together as if enclosing a secret. Sam stood hovering near the door and after clearing his throat said, ‘Deborah! Shall we take ’pup for a run before we have our dinner? Then you can bring her in to show Emily.’

She jumped up immediately and ran towards him. ‘Oh, yes. You’d like that wouldn’t you, Emily?’

Emily nodded agreement. How strange everything was. Sam and Miss Deborah being so easy with each other and Mary sitting relaxed opposite her in the house which belonged to her former lover and his wife. And where was Mrs Francis, anyway?

‘I was going to ask Mr Francis’s lawyer here today to speak to you, Emily, and explain what has happened,’ Mary said, ‘but then I decided that if I
gave you prior knowledge, then he could explain the intricacies of the will later.’

Emily looked from Mary to Philip. ‘But why should I wish to hear of Mr Francis’s will? It’s surely no concern of mine?’

‘Indeed it is, my dear. Of as much concern to you as it is to me and Sam, and I must say here how grateful I am to Mr Linton for bringing you home so swiftly and of being so considerate and understanding when I felt there was no-one I could turn to in my despair.’

Philip inclined his head in response and Emily said softly to Mary, ‘I am so sorry about Mr Francis, he was such a kind gentleman. You must miss him so much.’

‘I do,’ she murmured sadly. ‘I shall never get over his loss, even though I have been offered so many compensations. But’, she added, putting on a brave smile, ‘let me tell you what has been happening.’ She took a breath. ‘Roger Francis has left his estate to his elder son – Samuel.’

Emily gazed at her in astonishment. To Sam? But how could he look after it?

‘He realized, of course, that Samuel would not be able to attend to it himself. He’s a good worker on the land but has no knowledge, nor sadly the education or ability, to be able to run it. Roger decreed, therefore, that although the estate will be in Samuel’s name,’ Mary gave a sudden uplifting smile, ‘and he has acknowledged him as his elder son, that the finances and the running of the estate will be in the hands of Samuel’s mother, that’s me, and his cousin, Emily Hawkins.’

Emily gasped. ‘But –’.

‘There is more,’ Mary added, ‘and it may take some time to explain. But tomorrow the lawyer will be here to inform you officially. My dear,’ she leaned towards Emily, ‘Roger has left you Elmswell Manor in its entirety, but there is a proviso, which is that Deborah should live here also if she should wish.’

She broke off as she heard the sound of Deborah’s voice and the yapping of a puppy in the hall, then continued, ‘But Deborah has decided that she would rather live with me and Samuel in the gatehouse, which she describes as very sweet and cosy!’

‘Live with you and Sam?’ Emily could hardly take it all in. ‘But – what about Mrs Francis? What will she do?’

Mary’s face hardened. ‘Mrs Francis does not want her daughter any more than she wanted her poor son, and Roger knew that. She has been left an annuity until her death, which will then expire and return to the estate. Deborah too has been left an annuity, which I, as her appointed guardian, will administer.’

The door flew open and in romped a golden bundle of legs and fur which hurled itself with licking tongue at Emily and then at Mary, but barked at Philip, who remarked that Deborah would have a busy time training it. Sam caught it by the scruff of its neck and firmly put it out again, where they could hear it scampering up the stairs and along the corridors.

Mrs Brewer appeared at the door to announce
that luncheon was about to be served and, shaking her head and smiling, said that she had never known such goings on in all the time she had worked there.

‘There will be changes, no doubt, Mrs Brewer,’ Mary agreed. ‘There will be some joy and laughter in this house at last.’

Emily could hardly eat, though the food was tempting. Mrs Castle hadn’t lost her light touch with pastry, but she was trembling so much and her senses whirled as she thought of what was in front of her. How could she manage such a great house? How could she run an estate, even with Mary? It just wasn’t possible.

‘The estate manager will stay on, of course,’ Mary was saying. ‘If we are agreeable, that is. He has been here for many years and we would be wise to take his advice. I took the liberty of sounding out Mrs Castle and Mrs Brewer and they both want to stay here with you until they retire and then perhaps you would like Ginny to take over as housekeeper. Some of the other servants left when Mr Francis died and Mrs Brewer has taken on new staff.’

Emily sighed. That at least was a relief. It would be difficult to have servants who had known her as a servant also, Jane and Brown the groom, and she supposed that Jane had long gone away to have Brown’s baby. And Ginny would be her companion as much as a housekeeper.

‘I’m not used to running a household,’ she resisted weakly, ‘let alone an estate so large.’

‘But Emily,’ Philip interrupted, ‘don’t be fearful. You ran Creek Farm whilst I was away and managed
it very well. This is just bigger, that’s all, and you will have plenty of people to help you.’

She smiled; how he teased. There could be no comparison between Elmswell Manor and Creek Farm. At the farm, life had been hard but casual and simple, whereas Elmswell Manor when she had known it had been so very formal. Then she reconsidered. But was that because of the people in it? Because Mrs Francis was so grand? She gazed up at the paintings on the dining-room wall and saw Mr Francis’s ancestors looking down at her. What would they have thought, she wondered, of a servant girl living in their house and running their estate? She felt their pompous, arrogant gaze and suddenly laughed. They wouldn’t have liked it, she decided.

After luncheon Mrs Brewer invited her upstairs to inspect the room they had suggested for her. ‘You may use another if you prefer it, Miss Emily,’ said the housekeeper. ‘But this was always the best room with the loveliest views. The one Mr Francis preferred.’

She nodded, unable to say much. She was feeling very strange and rather lightheaded. It was indeed a lovely room and it had been decorated since she had last seen it. Instead of the heavy mahogany furniture which Mr Francis had inherited from his parents, someone, and she suspected it might have been Mary, had removed the chests of drawers and the heavy tester bed and filled it with lighter, more feminine furniture and had draped the windows with muslin and silk curtains.

She started to shake. Coming upstairs upset her,
bringing back the memory of when she had last slept in the house as Mrs Purnell’s maid, and of the consequences of that visit. She sat down abruptly on a chair.

‘Are you unwell, Miss Emily?’ Mrs Brewer asked in concern. ‘Has the shock of it all been too much for you?’

Emily shook her head. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘It’s not that, Mrs Brewer. It’s just that – well, in truth, I’m reminded of the last time I was here – at Miss Deborah’s wedding and it has very unpleasant associations for me.’