Page 14 of Captivating the Countess
“It is a shame the English do not allow estates to pass through the female line as the Scots do. Very short-sighted of them, I’m sure.” Winifred squeezed her trunk closed.
“Giving women power may be why Edinburgh is a city of enlightenment and London is a cesspool.” Bell laughed at the old argument.
“Well, until the world is run by women, we’ll never know how much better we are. We need more women like you, striking out in a way that I hope will carve paths for the future. We shouldn’t be forced to sit in dark corners, knitting, because we have no husbands. That’s foolishness.”
“I’m not much of a flag bearer for women’s rights.” Bell smiled at the notion. “I simply want to help the people who suffered because of my stepfather and to have a chance to read in Rainford’s library. You’ll have to find someone else to lead your parade.”
Winifred patted her cheek. “Start with young Alicia. She’s looking for more than her sisters have.”
“The marquess would no doubt kill me if I set her down a career path!” Appalled and amused, Bell put water on for tea.
But Alicia really did need some means to occupy her active mind. It was a pity the useless spirits in Bell’s head couldn’t help.
Six
The next morning,Bell opened her door to head down to breakfast. Startled by the obstacle almost tripping her in the doorway, she had to grab the door frame to prevent stumbling headfirst into the hall.
A rather large male body blocked her path. The beard and painters’ smock identified him immediately. Why Mr. Winchester was sleeping on the floor was a little more difficult to determine.
She definitely wasn’t stepping over him. Just as she was about to close the door, he lifted his shaggy head and said blearily, “I must paint you.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Quietly, she closed the door and turned the lock, then retreated to the connecting door.
Winifred was dressed and already ordering servants to take down her luggage. She admitted Bell with amusement. “It seems you are the new object of the heir’s affections.”
“If the servants know he’s out there, they could have removed him.” Disgruntled at the unexpected start to her day, Bell followed her companion to the hall, some distance from where Teddy now snored.
“Apparently the rest of the family lives in different wings of the house and no one of authority has discovered him yet. Large households have interesting hierarchies.” Skirting around the sleeping painter, Winifred strode unhurriedly toward the stairs.
“I shall ask if a steward is allowed to order servants about. I should think even the housekeeper and butler would have the authority to have a drunk removed from the floor.” Bell had far too much experience in drunken family members to wish to encounter them in her new position.
The slamming doors and shrieking creatures had apparently quieted with the departure of the diva. Or perhaps they were simply not awake yet.
“Learning how the family functions is part of your task. Malcolms tend to act independently and are broad-minded enough not to interfere with each other’s habits. You’ve lived in too small a household to understand the dynamics, I suppose.”
“Everything and everyone has a place.” Bell liked order. Drunks on her doorstep were not orderly.
“I’m sure you’ll have them all in hand in no time.” Complacently, Winifred led the way into the breakfast room, where an enormous buffet was laid out and not a soul sat there to enjoy it.
“I think I preferred Calder Castle’s more frugal ways.” With a sigh, Bell helped herself to a cup of tea and some toast.
With a long trip ahead of her, Winifred filled her plate generously. “Your former employer was as accustomed to living in poverty as you are. The rich, like the marquess, are different. You must adapt to his ways, not the other way around. I hope you are not biting off more than you can chew.”
Bell glanced from her thin slice of toast to the older woman and smiled. “I’ll nibble and be fine.”
Just to prove her wrong, Lady Delahey and her husband swept in carrying a wailing infant and shouting for the servants. A door slammed above, and in the distance, a fiddle screeched up and down the scales.
Bell clung to the edge of the table until the dizziness passed. Perhaps she would take breakfast in her room from henceforth.
“It is late,” she declared, rising from the table. “I’m to meet Rainford in the office at nine, if someone could direct me?”
Not daring to return to her room if Teddy was still there, Bell obtained directions, hugged Winifred, and made her farewells. Then she took deep breaths and plunged into the interior of the enormous house for the first day of her new life. In a grim way, the notion was exciting.
The two-story entryway with its enormous windows added brightness to the front rooms even on a gloomy day. The back halls had no such illumination. If it were not for gaslights, she’d have to carry a lantern to traverse the confusing array of corridors.
Reaching a conservatory at the back of the house, Bell sighed in relief, turned right, and found what Lady Delahey had called the office wing. A billiard table in one room, with an antler candle fixture over it, gave the lie to that label. A stuffy study with a table and humidor and crystal decanters appeared to be more gentleman’s smoking room than study. She wondered where the library might be. Not down this wing, apparently.
Past the conservatory, she finally found a room filled with old ledgers and a battered desk. It had its own grate, she noted with relief. The corridor was quite chilly. She assumed the last two rooms near the exit door belonged to the estate agents she would meet sooner or later.
