A Proper Companion

In truth, she herself knew very little about such manners except what her mother had taught her. But instinct kept her from addressing her new employer, who stood with arms crossed, tapping her foot on the colorful woven carpet that lay in front of the gleaming white marble hearth. Within minutes, a woman of perhaps fifty years entered the room, her footfalls making no sound on the wooden floor.

“Yes, Lady Greystone?” The woman wore a simple black woolen dress, and her greying brown hair was pulled severely into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her posture was rigid, her face an expressionless mask.

“This is Mrs. Dobbins, my housekeeper.” Lady Greystone glanced at Anna. “Mrs. Dobbins, this is Newfield, my new companion. You will give her Peel’s room.”

“Yes, my lady.” Mrs. Dobbins beckoned to Anna. “If you please, miss.” Her slight nod to Mrs. Brown was an order to follow her, as well.

Following the housekeeper, Anna wondered if she should offer some parting words of gratitude to Lady Greystone, but a glance over her shoulder revealed the viscountess making her own exit through a different door, which had been opened by a blue uniformed footman Anna had mistaken for a statue.

In the manor house’s front entryway, Mrs. Dobbins’s rigid posture relaxed considerably even as she retained a dignified carriage. So even the most powerful servant in the house feared Lady Greystone. Anna would not try to guess what challenges lay ahead. She prayed only that she would not disappoint Major Grenville and that his kindness to her would not cause a problem between him and his mother.

“Oh, Anna dear.” Mrs. Brown gazed around the large, dimly lit chamber. “Such a grand house, but there don’t seem to be much happiness here.”

“If you please.” Mrs. Dobbins gave Mrs. Brown a scorching look. “Servants do not speak unless addressed.”

“I ain’t no servant—”

Anna set a hand on her friend’s arm. “Thank you, Mrs. Dobbins. I am certain we have much to learn.”

“Just so, miss.” The woman began her ascent up the gracefully curved marble staircase. Her gnarled hands gripped the dark oak banister, and she pulled herself up each step.

Anna’s heart went out to the woman. It appeared her knees gave her much pain, as Father’s had toward the end of his life. Had Major Grenville experienced as much difficulty climbing this staircase with his wounded leg? Perhaps both would benefit from willow bark.

At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Dobbins indicated a long hallway on the right. “Do not enter that wing. Lord Greystone’s chambers are there, as are his brothers’. Follow me.” She marched stiffly down another hall, stopping at a wide white door. “This is Lady Greystone’s suite. You must not enter unless summoned.” Continuing on, she came to a smaller door across the hall. “Here is your room, miss.”

She led them inside where Anna gazed around in wonder. The chamber was half again larger than her old room at the vicarage. The furnishings were elegant but not lavish, with everything she would require to be comfortable: a four-poster bed covered with a green counterpane, a mahogany wardrobe and a wingchair. In addition, a tall window—or perhaps it was a door—promised sunny mornings, for she guessed it to be on the east side of the house. What more could she ask for?

“I will have your baggage brought up,” Mrs. Dobbins said. “If Lady Greystone wishes you to dine with the family tonight, she will send word. I shall send up supper if she does not ask for you.” She listed more rules of the house and imparted other essential information, while Anna wondered how she would remember it all.

After a tearful embrace, Anna said goodbye to Mrs. Brown. The dear lady would depart by early post the next morning, leaving Anna bereft of all she had ever known.

No, not bereft. In the scriptures, the Lord said He would never leave her nor forsake her. She would rest in that promise. And perhaps if she could see Major Grenville’s friendly smile from time to time, it would give her the strength to carry on in her new life.

Chapter Five

Edmond awoke to the midday sun streaming through the double glass doors leading to his balcony. He had slept long and well for the first time in years. No narrow army cots in tents that failed to keep out wind and rain. No ships’ berths on rolling seas. No lumpy mattresses in wayside inns. Amazing what one night of good rest could do for a man.

Across the room Matthews dozed in a chair, his uniform in surprisingly tidy condition. Had he risen early and made himself presentable in anticipation of Edmond’s needs?

As if his thoughts had sent out a signal, Matthews jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. “’Morning, sir.” He stood, tugged at his red jacket and lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “Good sleep?”

“Good, indeed.” Edmond stretched and yawned. “I suppose Greystone’s already had his morning ride.” He still was not certain he could ride, but he would attempt it to spend time with his brother away from the house.

Matthews chuckled. “Aye, sir. Twice.”

“Huh?” Edmond threw his legs over the side of the bed and snatched up his dressing gown. “What do you mean?” A few odd aches reminded him of his injuries, but not nearly as painfully as on the long trip home.

“You’ve slept since we arrived evening before last, sir.”

“What?” Edmond surrendered to the news by plopping back on the bed with a hearty laugh. Just as quickly, he shot to his feet, swaying a bit as he regained his balance. “What news of Miss Newfield?” More precisely, how had Mother treated her?

“Not much, sir. Below stairs says Lady Greystone hasn’t summoned her yet, so she’s kept to her room.”

“Uh-oh. Not good.” Edmond ran his hands over his face. “Let’s get me presentable so I can go find out what’s what.”

While Matthews called for water and laid out fresh clothing, Edmond opened the doors and stepped out onto the narrow balcony. The familiar meadows and distant woods dappled with autumn colors sent a vague pang of longing through him. He inhaled a deep breath of the crisp October air to bring his thoughts more into focus. Despite Mother’s sternness, she was not a beast. Nor was she forgetful. So why would she leave Miss Newfield in her room all this time? Old Miss Peel had been permitted to wander the house and grounds at will when Mother had no need of her companionship. Perhaps the young lady did not understand her privileges. Edmond slapped his forehead. He had indeed failed her by not informing her of what would be expected.

His gaze strayed toward the east wing of the L-shaped manor house, and something jolted in his chest. There stood Miss Newfield on her balcony, her black mourning weeds blowing about her in the mild wind. Across the distance he could not quite make out the expression on her fair face, but her straight posture gave no indication of misery. Considering what he had witnessed of her character so far, he should have had more faith in her ability to cope, no matter what the circumstances.

She turned his way and lifted a hand to wave at him. Now he could make out a smile, and he waved back. Admiration and satisfaction filled him. She was faring well in spite of her solitude. He could ask for nothing more.

* * *

Anna wondered whether she had erred by waving first, but in her happiness at seeing Major Grenville, her hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Apparently he did not find her greeting inappropriate, for his broad smile reflected her own. Then, noticing that his dark red clothing was not his uniform but a dressing gown, heat rushed to her cheeks. Perhaps aristocrats had different customs regarding what was appropriate to wear out of doors. She offered a tentative parting wave and returned to her bedchamber.

Her foolishness struck her immediately, for her balcony seemed an extension of this room. No doubt the major felt the same way about his childhood quarters, so of course he would step outside upon waking. Had she not done the same thing these two mornings? She prayed his smile was an indicator that his health was already improving.

Taking a seat in the upholstered wingchair beside the bed, she picked up Papá’s Bible and resumed a search she had begun the day before. Surely some scriptural example could help her discover how to be useful in this household, but until she understood her employer, she could not be certain her actions would be appropriate. Lady Greystone had not sent for her, and Mrs. Dobbins had made it clear she was not to leave until summoned. Thus she had remained in the room, reading her Bible and praying for Lady Greystone, Lord Greystone, kind Major Grenville and all of the dear people she had left behind. And of course Peter, healing somewhere in the vast wilderness called America.

“Miss Newfield?” The call through her door was followed by a scratch, and she set aside her Bible to cross the chamber and open the door.

“Good morning, Johnson.” Anna gave the butler a welcoming smile. Other than the little chambermaid who brought hot water each morning, he was the only person she had seen, and only when he brought her meals. But this time he brought no tray, and Anna’s stomach rumbled a quiet protest.

“Lady Greystone requires your presence in the breakfast room.” The man’s formal facade never wavered. “If you would follow me, please.”

“Oh, yes.” Excitement, gratitude…and a hint of fear…swept through Anna. At last she would learn about her duties. “Thank you.” She felt a mad impulse to ask the butler whether her appearance was acceptable, but refrained.

Johnson started down the hallway, but uncertainty drew Anna to the long mirror on her wardrobe door for a quick inspection. She touched the high collar of her black bombazine gown and checked the tidiness of her hair, which was pulled into a soft bun a little less severe than Mrs. Dobbins’s. Mamá’s silver and sapphire pin was her only adornment, but at the last moment she removed it and stored it in the drawer of her dressing table, lest it be considered improper for mourning.

She hurried out of her room, but the butler had vanished. Walking in the direction he had gone, she hoped memory served correctly and she would find the front stairway around the corner. Her weariness two nights ago had prevented her from making sufficient mental notes about her surroundings, which would be humorous under other circumstances. But she certainly did not wish to get lost in this great house.

She turned the corner and entered a broad space that indeed led to the stairs. Relieved, she strode across the patterned runner, hoping to see the butler descending the staircase.

“Miss Newfield.”

The call came from her left. She turned to see Major Grenville walking slowly toward her, cane in hand and Matthews at his side. The major’s color had greatly improved, as had his posture. His uniform of a red jacket and white breeches appeared spotless. Morning light shone through tall windows across from the landing and glinted off his black boots, which were polished to a brilliant sheen. As he came near, she was reminded of his height, and her awe increased. What a fine-looking soldier. With some difficulty, she tamped down the giddiness stirring within her as he approached.

“Major Grenville, how well you look.”

“As do you.” His smile gladdened her heart. “What do you think of the Lodge? Has anyone taken you out to see the gardens and the park yet?”

“I, um…” As they walked side by side to the wide staircase and began their descent, Anna searched for a response that would not cast aspersions on his mother. “Lady Greystone has just now sent for me and—”

“So it’s true?” He stopped suddenly and seemed about to pitch forward.

“Easy, sir.” Matthews was beside him, ready to assist.

Anna stopped, too, and heat rushed to her cheeks. But what else could she have said?