Page 108 of Marry in Secret
Cousin Cornelius and his cronies, Perce and Monty, soon wore their welcome—grudging as it was—very thin. By day they entertained themselves, riding around the estate—Cornelius acting as if he still owned it—and hunting, though what they could hunt in the middle of the day, Thomas had no idea.
“I don’t like them wandering the countryside with guns,” Thomas said, “but if it keeps them out of our hair... Just make sure you’re not out when they are.”
They continued their morning rides, because Cornelius and his friends rarely arose before noon.
Their guests played cards and drank themselves into a stupor each night. Rose very correctly left the gentlemen to their port at the end of each meal, and after one glass, Thomas excused himself and joined Rose, leaving them to it.
Even so, they made themselves obnoxious, complaining that life was deadly dull in the country. They complained constantly and were endlessly demanding. Even too-sick-to-travel Venables managed to achieve offense from his sickbed.
Mrs. Holden consulted Rose about him. “Ringing that bell of his a couple of dozen times a day, he is, m’lady. The maids have been running up and down stairs all day and night, and all for the most trivial of reasons; his water glass needing refilling—and the jug not six inches away, his sheets needing to be smoothed, his pillows plumped.”
“I’ll have a word with him,” Rose promised.
Mrs. Holden hesitated, then continued in a rush. “And that’s not all. I caught Lucy coming out of his room all rumpled and flustered this morning—and she’s a good girl, Lucy, and wouldn’t encourage that sort of thing. She says he has hands like an octopus, and the other maids agree. I did try to speak to him, m’lady, but he came across all innocent and kept saying the girl made a mistake. But I could tell he was laughing up his sleeve at me.”
Rose stiffened. “I will do more than have a word with him,” she declared wrathfully. “From now on, Mrs. Holden, Mr. Venables is to be attended only by a manservant—one manservant, the biggest, meanest, ugliest one you can find. Someone who won’t put up with any nonsense. And make my apologies to Lucy and the other girls for the trouble they’ve been put to.”
She marched up to Mr. Venables’s room. “It has come to my attention, Mr. Venables, that you’ve been pestering my maids. This will stop. If you discompose any of my staff again, in any way whatsoever, you will be dumped out on the highway before you know it—and I don’t care if you’re dying!” She frowned. “Actually, if you’re pestering the maids, you’re obviously well enough to travel. I’ll speak to my husband about it.”
Ignoring the man’s babbled excuses, apologies and justifications, and his assurances that he was indeed almost at death’s door, she swept out.
She told Thomas about it later that day, and to her surprise he sent for all the servants to assemble in the hall. The atmosphere was tense and they whispered nervously among themselves as they waited for him to address them.
He also ordered Cousin Cornelius and his two friends to attend. They flounced in late and sat with their backs half turned away, as if it demeaned them to be addressed in the company of servants.
Rose sat at the front, facing the audience. Ambrose, who had also been asked to attend, sat quietly at the side, his expression quietly curious.
Thomas held up his hand for silence, then spoke. “It hascome to my attention that some of our houseguests have been pestering some of you.”
Ignoring the outraged huffs from the guests and the low murmur of surprise from the servants, he continued. “I want you to know that I will not stand for this. No servant in my employ is to put up with any untoward, unfair, unwelcome or bullying behavior from anyone else under this roof, whether they are fellow servants, guests or the king himself. Is that understood?”
There were nods and murmured “Yes m’lords” all around.
Cousin Cornelius and his cronies rose. “Well, really, this is the outside of enough,” Cornelius declared. They stalked from the room, the picture of offended dignity. The servants exchanged glances, and a low murmur followed.
Thomas continued, “Anyone who feels threatened or distressed in any way is to speak to Mr. or Mrs. Holden, or if you feel uncomfortable about telling them, come directly to me or Lady Brierdon. I promise you, we will investigate the matter and act on it. Agreed?”
At the chorus of agreements and nods, he dismissed them.
They filed out, leaving Thomas, Rose and Ambrose alone. Ambrose looked stunned. “I never thought I’d hear an Earl of Brierdon speak like that on behalf of servants.”
Thomas lifted a careless shoulder. “I doubt any previous Earls of Brierdon were slaves and understood what it is like to live at other people’s mercy. Or lack of it.”
Ambrose stared at him for a long moment, his complexion ashen. “A slave, Thomas?” he repeated weakly. “Is that what you became?”
Thomas nodded. “It changes you.”
Later Rose said to Thomas, “I thought Ambrose’s reaction was a little strange, a little extreme, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “No. Ambrose’s mother was a maidservant.”
***
The idyllic weather was coming to an end. The last few days had been dry but overcast, but as Thomas andRose came in from their morning ride, a damp wind brought spatters of intermittent rain.
“Looks like this afternoon might be a good time to begin going over the books with you,” Thomas told Ambrose. Despite the weather, Cornelius and his cronies, showing a surprising resilience, had headed out after luncheon, dressed to the nines in their hunting outfits.
“Or were you going out?” he added, noticing that Ambrose was wearing a thick outdoor coat, hat and leather gloves.
