east wing, where all the guests will be accommodated.’
‘I have never seen such splendid interiors,’ remarked Lucy. She stopped to watch two servants carefully hanging a large painting upon the far wall, while a third stood back and directed them as to the correct alignment. ‘Has Lord Adversane made a new purchase?’
‘No, no, it is not new. I suppose my cousin thought it would look better here.’
Lucy regarded the painting with some surprise. It was a dark and rather nondescript view of some classical ruins, and looked out of place amongst the portraits of past barons and their wives. Mrs Dean touched her arm.
‘Shall we go on?’ She led the way into a dim corridor running parallel to the gallery and threw open a door at one end. ‘The two main bedrooms are here. You will be occupying the mistress’s bedchamber—’
‘Oh, but I do not think I should!’
Lucy stopped in the doorway, but Mrs Dean urged her to enter.
‘Lord Adversane thought it necessary,’ she said, closing the door behind them. ‘If my cousin truly intended to make you his wife then this is the apartment he would choose for you.’
Lucy’s reluctance must have shown clearly on her face, for Mrs Dean smiled and patted her arm.
‘You need have no fear of impropriety, my dear. Believe me, Adversane was not at all happy about putting you in his wife’s room, but he knows it must be so, if his family are to believe he is serious about marrying you. There is a dressing room through that door where your maid will sleep—he has appointed one for you, of course. She has already unpacked your trunk, you see, and has probably gone off to fetch your hot water.’
Lucy made no further protest, and when Mrs Dean left her she wandered around the room, taking in her surroundings. The furniture was dark and heavy, the huge tester bed hung with faded brocade and while the walls were covered in a pretty Chinese wallpaper it was of no very recent date. In fact, there was nothing new in the room at all, and nothing to give any clue to the character of the last occupant. The brushes resting on the dressing table were Lucy’s and the linen press held only the meagre supply of clothes she had brought with her. All the other drawers and cupboards were quite empty. One part of her was relieved, for she would have felt even more of an impostor if the chamber had been redolent of the late Lady Adversane. As it was, there was nothing to say this was not a guest room, albeit a very grand one.
Knowing it would be sensible to rest before the dinner hour, Lucy stretched herself on the bed, determined to go over all the questions she wished to put to her host when they met again, but within a very few minutes she was sound asleep.
She awoke when the door to her room opened and a shy, breathless voice said, ‘Ooh, ma’am, I’m didn’t mean to disturb you, but Mrs Green says its time I brought up your hot water and made you ready to go down to dinner—’
‘That is quite all right.’ Lucy sat up, stretching. ‘You are to be my maid, I take it?’
‘Aye, ma’am—miss.’
‘And who is Mrs Green?’
‘The housekeeper, miss. She sent me up.’ The young girl put down the heavy jug on the wash stand and bobbed a curtsey. ‘And I am Ruthie, miss, if you please.’
‘Well, Ruthie, perhaps you would help me out of this gown.’ Lucy slid off the bed. ‘I am afraid it is sadly crumpled and not a little grubby. I have been travelling in it for days.’
‘I know, miss. From London,’ said Ruthie triumphantly as she unfastened Lucy’s travelling dress and laid it over a chair. ‘Everyone’s that pleased to see you. Mrs Green says the house has been too long without a mistress.’
‘Oh, but I am not—’
Lucy’s involuntary exclamation had the effect of making the maid jump back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.
‘Ooh, miss, I’m that sorry, I forgot we wasn’t meant to say anything!’
Lucy gazed in some dismay at the maid’s woebegone face. So word had spread, just as Adversane had planned. She nodded and said gently, ‘Well, do not mention it again. Now, I think I saw my green gown in the press, perhaps you will lay that out for me.’
It was her only evening gown, a plain robe of French cambric with puff sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy thought it would look very dull against the splendid interiors of the house, but it was all she had and it would have to do.
* * *
Lucy found her new maid very willing and eager to help. Ruthie carried away Lucy’s travelling gown and half-boots, promising to clean them up as good as new, then came hurrying back, determined to help Lucy to dress for dinner. Her enthusiasm was endearing, but Lucy was a little reluctant to let her do more than brush out her hair.
‘Oh, but I can do it, miss,’ said Ruthie, as Lucy sat before the looking glass. ‘Lady Adversane’s maid showed me how to dress hair in several styles. O’course that were a couple of years ago now, but I’m sure I can remember.’
Lucy glanced at the little clock. There was plenty of time to brush it all out and start again, if necessary.
‘Very well, let us see what you can do,’ she said, smiling. ‘All I wish this evening is for you to put it up in a simple knot.’
Ruthie’s face fell. ‘No ringlets, miss?’
‘No ringlets.’
The young maid looked a little disappointed, but she set about her task with a will.
‘You were training to be a lady’s maid?’ asked Lucy as Ruthie concentrated on unpinning and brushing out each shining lock.
‘Oh, aye, miss, I was. Lady Adversane’s maid broke her arm, you see, so Mrs Green sent me up to help her.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘Oh, my lady was so pretty, with her golden curls and blue, blue eyes, like the china doll they keep in the nursery! It was such a pleasure to dress her. I learned such a lot from Miss Crimplesham, too—that was my lady’s maid, you see—she was a tough old stick, and all the servants was a bit in awe of her, even Mrs Green, but she wasn’t so bad when you got to know her, and so devoted to my lady.’
She paused to look at the honey-brown curls that cascaded over Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy knew she should reprimand the maid for chattering, but she was amused by her artless talk and besides, for one accustomed to looking after herself, it was so very pleasant merely to sit quietly and have someone fuss over her.
‘I was hoping that my lady would give me a reference,’ Ruthie continued, beginning to gather up the heavy locks again. ‘So I could become a proper lady’s maid, but then of course there were that terrible accident.’
‘Accident?’ Lucy met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. ‘You mean Lady Adversane?’
‘Yes, miss. She fell to her death, from Druids Rock.’
‘Oh, heavens.’
Lucy had been wondering how Lady Adversane had died. She had decided she would ask Mrs Dean at some point, for she did not think she would be able to pluck up the courage to ask Lord Adversane.
She
