Hudson winced. “Far be it from me to interfere, sir. But that might not have been the best choice of Scriptures for your first shot at morning prayers.”
“Oh?”
“Consider, sir. How that Scripture might seem an... arrow, more than the gentle admonition you no doubt intended.”
Nathaniel opened the book on his desk and reread the passage. “Is that why I received surly looks? It was simply the next verse in my own daily reading. I knew it had not gone well and assumed it my delivery. I shall choose more carefully in future.”
“Ah.” Hudson nodded his understanding. “Well. I am certain it shall go better next time.”
Nathaniel regarded his steward. Robert Hudson was a few years his senior. Although originally from England, he had spent many years living and working aboard ships before settling in Barbados. There, Nathaniel had hired him away from Abel Preston, the neighboring planter neither man could stand. As a clerk, Hudson was forthright and completely trustworthy. The two men had become fast friends, their relationship more partnership than master-servant. Though Hudson never failed to show him respect, neither did he fail to speak his mind.
When Nathaniel’s father commissioned him to return and put Fairbourne Hall to rights, he had lost no time in convincing Hudson to return with him as steward. If Mrs. Budgeon and that coxcomb of an under butler did not like it, he did not care. Hudson would lead them with humility and competence. A rare combination of traits, which Nathaniel hoped to learn to emulate.
Nathaniel finished his coffee and set down his cup. “And far be it from me to interfere with the servants, Hudson, but I am curious. Mrs. Budgeon lodged a complaint with my sister about your hiring a housemaid without consulting her.” He raised a hand before Hudson could protest. “I trust you to hire whom you like, but not two days ago you avowed your intention to leave the female staff entirely to the housekeeper.”
“I know, sir. But I found quite an unexpected gem at market yesterday.”
“Oh?”
“Remember the girl I mentioned to you? The one who warned me when I stopped to check on you near the docks?”
Nathaniel frowned at the memory. “Your wild driving knocked me from the seat.”
“Be that as it may, I saw that very girl at the hiring fair in Maidstone. Woebegone she looked too, standing there alone after everyone else had gone home.”
“You hired her because she shouted at you to move along?” Incredulity and amusement tinged Nathaniel’s words.
“You don’t remember that night, sir. Laid low with the surgeon’s laudanum as you were. You did not see the cutthroats descending to do us a violence and no doubt steal us blind in the bargain. She not only brought them to my attention, but she shoved a door in the leader’s face when he would have overtaken us. The last thing I saw before we turned the corner was those three brutes trying to break down the lodging house door. Until I saw her again yesterday, I feared she might have come to harm on our account.”
“Is that why she left London?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Hmm... Strange that she should come here, do you not think?”
Hudson shrugged. “Not so strange. Maidstone has a regular hiring fair and is not terribly distant from London.”
“I suppose.”
Hudson grimaced and screwed his lips to one side. “Do you think I have made Mrs. Budgeonveryangry?”
It was Nathaniel’s turn to shrug. “The woman is a professional. She will get over it no doubt. Assuming, that is, your girl is a good worker and knows the difference between a hairbrush and a chimney brush.”
Standing in the basement passageway, Margaret watched Betty’s stubby fingers and rough, heavily veined hands as she laid out brush after brush on the narrow worktable.
Betty turned to her. “Now, name each brush and describe its proper use, if you please.”
Margaret’s mouth went dry. Before her were brushes of every imaginable description. Long-haired, short and wiry, feather, miniature brooms, and more. She had little idea what they might be called or how each was to be used.
She began, “Well, this is a feather duster of course, and, um...” She licked her lips. “You know, Mrs. Budgeon made it quite clear that I was not to try to do things as I did in my former place. Therefore, perhaps you had better teach me how each of these brushes is to be used here at Fairbourne Hall.”
Betty studied her a moment, then sighed. “Very well.” She picked up one bristled handle after another. “Picture brush, shoe brush, hearth brush, plate brush, flue brush, library brush, velvet brush, banister brush, carpet brush, wall broom, bed broom...”
Very soon, Margaret’s head was spinning. She hoped there would be no examination. Miss Hightower’s Seminary for Girls had not prepared her for this.
Why, you know, Sir Thomas’s means
will be rather straitened if the Antigua estate
