Page 47 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #3)

He had already, of course, taken over the butler’s room, with its desk and chair, shelves for the ledgers, cupboards and bookcase, nice bit of carpet on the floor.

Now that it was obvious, to him at least, that Mr Moss wasn’t coming back, he meant to go further: at the back of the room was a door that gave onto the butler’s bedroom.

It was a small room, with a single iron bedstead, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers, on top of which was a wash-basin on a crochet-edged runner, with a mirror in a brass frame on the wall above.

It wasn’t a palace, but it was private, which was the main thing, and he coveted it.

At the next door he looked in, and saw William sitting in an upright chair, waiting to answer bells, chatting to Eddie, the youngest houseboy, who was at a table with newspaper spread on it, cleaning knives. They would do. But first he gave Eddie a rattling.

‘Call those clean? Look at the streaks! And what’s this – egg?

Mustard? You want to poison somebody? You’ll have to do better than this, my lad, if you want to keep your job.

You do them all again, from scratch. And you, William, you ought to’ve kept an eye on him, not sat there with your mouth open catching flies.

Some first footman you are!’ Eddie looked scared, and William looked as though he might cry.

Satisfied, Hook said, ‘Leave it for now. Come with me. I’ve a job for the two of you.

’ He glanced round, picked up a basket of mending, tipped the things out on the table, and thrust it into Eddie’s hands.

William dared to protest. ‘I’m s’pos’d to be answering bells.’

‘You bleat like an old woman! Don’t worry, you’ll be back in your Bath chair before you’re needed – there’s nobody in at the moment.’

He led them to the butler’s room and through into the bedroom.

‘But this is Mr Moss’s room,’ William said, in a shocked whisper.

As if it was a blessed temple! Hook thought impatiently.

‘Not any more,’ he said. ‘It’s mine now.

Right, you, William, take Mr Moss’s clothes out of the wardrobe and pack ’em in this valise.

’ He had found it under the bed on his last reconnoitre.

‘And you, Eddie, put his bits and pieces in the basket. I’ll find somewhere to stick ’em until they can be sent to him.

’ If he doesn’t die first, he added to himself.

The boys glanced uncertainly at each other, and he shouted, ‘Get on with it, then! Sharp, now!’ They flinched and obeyed.

There were five books on a short shelf by the bedhead, which also held the night candle in its pewter holder.

They had better go, too, Hook thought, and picked them up one by one.

The first was old Moss’s A to Z of Universal Knowledge .

The tiresome old bore was always reading bits out of it.

The second seemed to be poetry: The Sonnets of Shakespeare .

Who knew he wrote poetry as well as plays?

Then there was a Bible, and something called The Kings and Queens of England – a Child’s Illustrated History . Hook snorted derision.

The last, a very fat, unruly sort of book bound in red leather, he opened and immediately snapped shut again. Oho, what’s this then? His back was to the boys, his body blocking what he was doing. He slipped it inside his coat, held it there with his elbow, and turned back.

‘Here, take these books as well,’ he said to Eddie, passing over the other four, two by two. ‘Shove ’em in the basket. And don’t be all day about it! Come and find me when you’re done.’

He stalked out into the butler’s room, stared quickly around, then opened a cupboard and stowed the book behind some bottles and tins.

That would do for now. He was pleased with his find.

He’d heard that such things could be valuable.

He’d take it into the village next time he went and see what Thavey at the pawn shop said.

Giles had stayed on in London only to fulfil his promise to dine with the Arthurs.

When the door was opened, he heard the sound of many voices within, and realised there was a party.

He felt a moment’s trepidation. But the first people he saw in the drawing-room were John and Mabel Portwine, and Quintin and Mary Caldecott – academic acquaintances and therefore comfortable to him.

The Arthurs’ son Ptolemy – a very bright young fellow of six – was holding court, and making everyone laugh, though it was for Giulia’s sake he seemed to be performing.

She was laughing too, looking as vivid as an orchid in a daisy patch in a gown of deep coral silk, with copper-coloured roses in her dark hair.

And then, as Talbot and Mary broke off and came to welcome him, he saw, just beyond Giulia, and to his great astonishment, the elegantly attired figure of Uncle Stuffy.

‘I think you know everyone, don’t you,’ Mary Arthur was saying, ‘except I don’t think you’ve met my son, though you’ve heard me talk about him often enough. Ptolemy, say good evening to Lord Stainton – and then you must go to bed.’

The boy came, made an exaggerated court bow, and said, ‘Good evening, my lord. Welcome to our humble abode.’ Obviously he was used to being the centre of attention, but his impish grin was infectious and he seemed lively rather than spoiled.

Giles returned the bow in kind. The boy immediately appealed to his mother not to be sent to bed, but she was quick to enforce her diktat.

He bade a general goodnight to the company, then turned to Giulia and said, in a good accent, ‘ Buona notte, signorina. A domani. La tua promessa? ’

Giulia answered him, ‘ Buon riposo . Yes, I promise to play piquet with you tomorrow after breakfast.’

When he had gone, Mary Arthur said, ‘I think someone is rather in love with you, Giulia my dear. I hope you won’t break his heart.’

‘I do not break hearts,’ Giulia said gravely. She gave Giles one cool glance, and walked away to talk to other guests.

General conversation had broken out and, having accepted a glass of sherry from Talbot and exchanged a few words, Giles worked his way round to Stuffy to say, ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Before he could answer, Mary Arthur was beside them, and said, ‘Oh, Giles! I must tell you, Lord Leake has been so kind, showing us the sights of London – Giulia and me. Of course, I know many of them from my childhood, but it’s good to refresh oneself, and for Giulia it’s all new.’

‘It has been entirely my pleasure, dear lady,’ said Stuffy.

‘It makes such a difference, having a male escort,’ Mary went on. ‘The crowds can be tiresome. And, of course, one cannot extract Talbot from the museum, these days. As well try to remove a winkle from its shell without a pin!’

‘We were at the Natural History Museum yesterday,’ Stuffy said. ‘Don’t recall any winkles, though we did see ammonites. Quite interesting. But next time, ma’am, we ought to take a drive out to Hampton Court. While the weather is so good.’

At that moment Quintin Caldecott snagged Mary’s attention and she turned away to answer. Giles seized the opportunity to say, ‘Showing them the sights? What’s come over you?’

‘Very educational,’ Stuffy said. ‘Amazin’ how little one knows about one’s own city. I believe it’s the same everywhere – Romans never going to the Colosseum and so on.’ He waved a hand vaguely.

‘I know for a fact that Giulia is well acquainted with all the sights of Florence,’ Giles said drily. ‘But what brought this on?’

Stuffy raised his eyebrows. ‘Why so surprised? A fellow can be hospitable in his own town, I suppose?’

‘It’s a great deal of trouble for you to go to,’ said Giles, ‘and I’ve never gathered that you were keen on exerting yourself.’

‘I don’t know why you’re making such a toil of it,’ Stuffy said equably.

‘Asked Miss L to dance at the ball, followed up the acquaintance – most kindly received by Mrs Arthur. She wanted to show Miss L the sights – made m’self available – invited to dine en famille by way of thanks.

Everything going along swimmingly. Enjoying myself no end.

Mrs Arthur all over gratitude. Everyone happy. ’

Surely, Giles wondered, he could not have designs on Mary Arthur.

She was a handsome woman, but no-one could suppose she was the kind of married woman who might conduct an affair.

And Stuffy had never been that way inclined anyway, as far as Giles was aware.

He had never known him show interest in any female.

‘What will you do when Giulia goes back to Italy – which she must, sooner or later?’ he asked.

Stuffy frowned. ‘Not sure I care for your calling her by her first name like that. Not respectful.’

‘But you must remember, Uncle, I’ve known her since she was a child. She’s like a little sister to me.’

Stuffy’s face cleared. ‘Ah, of course! Just so. Well, that’s all right, then.’

‘You’ll be going out of Town soon, won’t you? You’ve never stayed so long before.’

‘Helping Maud out with little Rachel. Got to do m’duty. Thought you’d have gone down before now, though – estate to run and so on.’

‘I’m going down tomorrow,’ said Giles.

‘Ah, good! Well, I expect I’ll be off too, before long. Just making hay while the sun shines,’ Stuffy said, with a twinkle. ‘You young fellers mustn’t expect to carry all before you!’

‘Carry all of what?’ Giles asked, puzzled. What on earth was he talking about? But Stuffy just laughed and wandered away.

Alice took Rose with her to Hundon’s, and between them they put in the welcoming touches.

‘I was never in here before, my lady,’ Rose said, as they looked around. ‘It’s a big old place, isn’t it?’

‘Used to be even bigger,’ Alice said. ‘My brother says it was a proper manor house once, but half of it’s fallen down over the years, and the wood and stone have been carried away to mend other buildings.’

‘I s’pose that’s why it’s got such big windows,’ Rose said. ‘Nice in their way, but makes it hard to keep it warm.’