Page 26 of A Devilish Element
“You mean it’s freezing and the roof leaks.”
The girl laughed. “That’s where there’s a roof to be had, Miss. Gordy, he’s the groundsman, and me cousin on me mam’s side. He allus says the roofs were bad when ’is pa were an apprentice to ’is grandpa, and nuffin’s been done to reet them since. ’Tis a miracle there’re any roofs left at all.”
“It did stand empty for a long while, so I understand.”
“Aye, true. Near fifty years accordin’ t’ Gordy. But here’s me blathering on when I’m suppose ta be helpin’ ya get t’ bed. Will ya need my help with that? Mrs Honeyfield said I was ta ask. Though, ah said t’ her, I said, she’s one who can do it thisen.”
Her forthrightness startled a laugh from Eliza. “Yes, you’re right about that. I shall manage just fine.”
The maid gave a nod. “It’s like ah said, a lady what turns up without a maid is a lady what knows how to do buttons. Though lord knows, Miss, we were all of us praying you’d bring one. We’re in a right tither downstairs.”
“Ah, yes, I’d heard there’d been problems acquiring help, what with all the local superstitions about the place.”
The girl gave another frown. “I don’t rightly knows about that, Miss. There are always folks eager for work, and no boggarts ever stopped ’em. Leastways, not until that bit of nonsense Jenny Pickhall up and oft and started wagging her tongue.” Her gaze ventured across the eiderdown to where Jane’s head rested upon the pillows. “I suppose it’s true then, that t’ mistress has seen the old hag too?”
“Hag?”
“Sorry. Begging ya pardon, the old mistress… Lady Cedarton. She weren’t really old, but they say she had an awful temper. Least that’s what folks hereabouts say.”
“Gordy?”
“Not him, Miss. I reckon he’s too afraid of ’er hearing him to risk it. I suppose I ought t’ mind my tongue too, but I’ve never managed the trick of it. Me mam’s been saying as much since I was a bairn.”
“Well, I’m certain that Lady Linfield’s fright was down to something perfectly ordinary that will no doubt reveal itself come daylight.”
“Do ya really, Miss?”
“Absolutely.” She shot the girl an encouraging smile. Cedarton needed its servants. “It’s such an old ruinous building, dark, disorientating, I’m certain she saw nothing more than a reflection in a mirror.”
“I expect so, Miss. Though Betsy did go on so about ’er while we was seeing t’ the dishes. Said the old mistress sees her ladyship as an intruder and means t’ drive her out. That she means t’ devour all our souls if we linger.”
“Codswallop. Lady Cedarton’s not in a position to have thoughts about anyone anymore. She’s long dead and buried.”
“You don’t think there’s any truth t’ her spirit being restless?”
“None whatsoever. It’s a story meant only to scare you. It’s a wonder that Mrs Honeyfield lets Betsy blether on like that.”
“Ah don’t know that Mrs Honeyfield’s been paying much accord to Betsy Cooper and her to-ing and fro-ings. She’s frightful poorly with her tooth. I shouldn’t say, Miss, but you were kind enough t’ offer her that tincture earlier, ’av seen her spittin’ blood up more than once a day.”
Eliza sighed. It was a promise she’d yet to fulfil. Surely Bell would have retired by now, and she might slip into the still room undisturbed. “Thank you for the reminder…”
“Edith, Miss.”
“Edith. Although, I’m not sure how much good my remedy will do if the problem is that severe. It sounds very much like the tooth ought to be pulled.”
“Mebee. It’s what lordship’s valet said, but Mrs Honeyfield wouldn’t have it. She says it hurts so bad she’s feared half her jaw’ll pop out with the tooth. But anyways, I’m keeping ya from ya rest.”
Eliza pushed to her feet and watched the girl settle into the groove she’d left behind. “I’ll be right next door if you need help with Lady Linfield at all.”
“As ya say. Goodnight, Miss.”
“Goodnight, Edith.”
~?~
The connecting door did not lead directly between their rooms as Eliza had anticipated, but to a small dressing room, where her clothing had been hung alongside Jane’s, which did seem odd, given the enormous armoire in the corner of her chamber. Perhaps it was locked, and the key lost—not such a far-fetched notion in a house as old as this. However, this proved not to be the case. The key sat squarely in the lock of the oak wardrobe. Eliza peered inside. It was quite empty all the way to the top, which scraped the stucco work on the ceiling, apart from one small, aged lavender bag.
Curious. Quite curious. Whyever had her things not been placed in here where they’d be more convenient?
