Page 13 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #2)
Mrs Deering was a wisp of a woman, as thin as her husband, with grey hair pulled back into an uncompromising bun. But her handshake was firm and her voice strong as she returned Nina’s greeting, and when Nina smiled, she did too, shyly.
‘Welcome to Wriothesby House. I hope we can make you comfortable here, madam,’ she said.
‘Aye, I hope you can as well,’ Mr Cowling said sternly. ‘Nothing but the best is good enough for Mrs Cowling,’
Trump came bouncing in. ‘Oh, is this your little dog, madam? He’s a treasure, isn’t he?
’ said Mrs Deering, stooping to pat him (and winning Nina’s heart.
Mrs Mitchell loathed him). She straightened and addressed Mr Cowling’s question.
‘I’ve had two cleaning women in, sir, and gone over everything from top to bottom, so it’s all clean and polished, and everything’s been aired.
And I’ve engaged two house-parlourmaids, in accordance with your instructions, and the girl who helps me in the kitchen is coming full-time.
But if anything is found wanting, I shall see to it right away. ’
The front door had led straight into a large panelled hall, with oak floorboards and a massive oak staircase straight ahead.
All the wood was gleaming with lavender wax, and on a stand at the foot of the stairs was a large blue-and-white vase with an arrangement of white narcissi, yellow ranunculus, purple-blue hyacinth, and a few stems of catkins.
Nina, wanting to give something back for Mrs Deering’s kindness to Trump, said, ‘What lovely flowers! Did you arrange them yourself?’
Mrs Deering looked pleased. ‘I did, madam. There’s not so much available this time of year. But spring flowers are always welcome, I think.’
‘Purple, white and gold,’ said Decius. ‘The colours of Easter. Liturgically correct, Mrs Deering.’
‘If you say so, sir,’ she replied, smiling in a way that told Nina she liked him and didn’t mind his nonsense. Nina felt something loosen in her: she would be happy here. She would understand, and be understood. She would not be the alien invader that she was at Beechcroft.
‘Flowers are all very well,’ Mr Cowling said impatiently, ‘but you’d better see the rest of the house, my love, before you get too cheerful. It’s very bare, to my mind. Not much comfortable about it.’
Moxton and Deering disappeared upstairs with the luggage, and Mrs Deering conducted Nina around her domain, with Mr Cowling and Decius following, one anxious and one amused.
There was a small parlour to the right of the hall, with a round mahogany table in the window, a couple of French armchairs by the fireplace, and a faded blue-and-yellow Turkish carpet on the floor.
On the mantelpiece was a little gold-and-white china clock and two matching candle-sticks.
‘This room gets the sun in the morning, madam,’ said Mrs Deering. ‘I thought you might like to take your breakfast here.’
‘I think I should,’ Nina said. There were flowers here, too – a simple white vase of daffodils in the centre of the table.
Back across the hall and to the left was the door to the dining-room, which was huge and occupied most of that side of the house.
It, too, was panelled, the floor was bare polished oak, a long mahogany table occupied the centre, and there were a couple of side tables against the wall.
The wine-coloured curtains were faded, but everything, again, was rubbed to a shine.
There was an enormous, elaborately carved marble fireplace: scrolled, fluted and embellished with ribbons, acanthus and grapes, with what looked like Greek goddesses forming the jambs and holding up endblocks in the shape of urns full of fruit and flowers.
Mr Cowling’s worried frown dissipated a little as he drew Nina’s attention to it.
‘Now, this is something like – eh, my love? This is fancy enough for the King! You wonder why they didn’t do a bit more of this sort of thing while they were about it.
Everything’s so plain, you’d think they hadn’t two pennies to rub together. ’
‘The Queen Anne style is plain, sir,’ Decius said, with the air of one who had explained this before. ‘The fireplace isn’t original, of course – a later addition.’
‘Aye, well, they should have gone on adding,’ Mr Cowling said ungraciously.
Beyond the dining-room was the drawing-room, which ran along the back of the house, with French windows onto a terrace and the garden beyond.
This room had a square of carpet in the centre, which Mr Cowling allowed grudgingly was better than all those bare floors, though it left enough wood on view all the same.
There were two settees, each with a pair of Bergère armchairs, and a couple of console tables.
The fireplace was Queen Anne – ‘Plain as the sole of my boot,’ Mr Cowling mourned – and on the mantelpiece there was, shockingly, nothing. Nothing at all!
‘We should have brought a few ornaments with us from Beechcroft House,’ Mr Cowling said. ‘Just to make it more home-like.’
Nina crossed to him and laid a hand on his arm. ‘But I like it like this, truly I do!’
‘Now you’re just trying to butter me,’ he said gruffly.
‘Nobody could like bare empty spaces. But this was just how it was when I bought the place, and I’ve never been here much so I never did anything about it.
My Mary didn’t like it here, so we lived at Beechcroft.
We did that out in top style, as you’ve seen.
’ A thought seemed to strike him. ‘Of course, that’s all her liking.
You p’raps don’t care to be taking over her shoes.
I should have thought.’ Nina began to protest, but he overrode her, kind but implacable.
‘You must do it up your own way – furniture, curtains, all the bits and bobs. Make it your own. Spend what you like. And never ask me – I’m not educated like you, and young Decius. ’
Decius coughed and turned his head away. Nina squeezed her husband’s arm, trying not to feel sad. ‘You are the kindest man in the world,’ she said.
He looked pleased. ‘Who should I be kind to, if not my own wife? Now, then, Mrs Deering, Mrs Cowling can wander round later and see the rest in her own time. Let’s just have a quick look at the bedroom before luncheon.
I’m sharp-set for it, so I hope you’ve something good for us. Decius, you will stay?’
‘With your leave, sir, I’m expected in Wigston.’
‘Aye, aye, it’s Easter, of course, I’d forgotten that for the minute. There’ll be the big gathering of Blakeses at home! You’d better get off, then. Thanks for all you’ve done, and I’ll see you bright and early Tuesday morning to have a look at that factory.’
Nina saw him go with a little disappointment. Conversation always flowed more easily when Decius was at the table. She followed Mr Cowling up the stairs, with Trump dashing on ahead, his nails skidding a little on the broad oak boards.
‘Noisy these passage floors,’ Mr Cowling complained. ‘They want carpeting.’
A plump maid was just coming out of the bedroom, and dropped Nina a curtsy. ‘This is Tina, madam,’ Mrs Deering introduced. ‘One of the new maids I’ve engaged. I thought she could attend to you – she’s looked after a lady before.’
‘Thank you,’ Nina said, and was about to say she didn’t need looking after; but Mr Cowling was nodding approvingly, and Tina was giving her a ready smile that was almost a grin, so she left it at that. It would be nice to have someone friendly to help her with her buttons.
The bedroom was very large, with a high ceiling, and the bed had enormously tall posts carrying a tester, but the posts were slim and unadorned, and there were no side curtains, so it was not oppressive.
There was a dressing-table with a mirror above it and an enormous wardrobe.
An armchair by the window – which gave over the gardens – looked as if it had been placed there for taking one’s ease and contemplating nature.
On a small table beside it was a vase of tulips, white and red.
‘Beautiful,’ Nina said. ‘It’s early for tulips.’
‘Deering brings them on in the greenhouse, madam,’ Mrs Deering said. ‘We always did have tulips at Wriothesby House. The previous mistress liked them.’
‘I like them too,’ Nina said, and earned herself a smile.
‘Your dressing-room’s through here,’ Mr Cowling said, opening a door on one side, ‘and I’ve got my usual room, which is the next one along. I’ll leave you to get ready for luncheon, my love. Don’t be long.’
In the dressing-room, Nina discovered, there was a washstand, with a ewer of hot water, which, presumably, Tina had just brought.
There was also a cheval mirror, a towel horse, a rattan chair – and a commode.
Oh, well. You couldn’t expect modern plumbing in a house of this age.
But she didn’t mind it so much here, where everything was so beautiful and serene.
Left alone, she washed her face and hands, tidied her hair, and went down to luncheon.
Another cable announced that the dowager and Rachel were staying with Vicky and Bobo at the summer palace for Easter. Kitty felt only relief. She was very large, and felt good for nothing but lying on the sofa or taking gentle walks in the garden. She did not feel equal to company.
‘Though I suppose Linda will be coming,’ she said to Giles at dinner one evening, trying not to sound unwelcoming.
‘No,’ said Giles, managing to be equally neutral. ‘They’ve had an invitation to go and stay at Croombe Park – the Willoughbys’ place.’