ChapterThree
Dinner was one of the tastiest meals Jessie had enjoyed in quite some time.
Simple fresh foods cooked with a skill that many of London’s finest chefs would probably have done well to emulate.
Sir Gerald deftly kept the conversation casual, and even Piers contributed more than a growl now and then. Discovering with evident delight that Jessie was well read, books quickly became a topic to be thoroughly discussed over soup, and from that a consideration of Mr Shakespeare’s works took all of them through the main dishes to the sweet course.
Sighing with pleasure, Jessie finished the last of her apple pie. “I have to confess I have seldom enjoyed a meal more, Sir Gerald.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it, Miss Nightingale. And since I’m disinclined to leave you on your own, I suggest we all adjourn to the parlour for tea. I tire more easily these days, especially when travelling to town, so it’ll be an early night for us, I’m afraid.”
“A welcome suggestion, sir,” said Jesse, standing as the gentlemen rose to their feet. “The room you’ve generously assigned me is one guaranteed to insure a good night’s sleep.”
“Ah, yes.” Her host led her across the hall to another room, where a fire burned and the tea tray was set out, right next to the brandy. “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Nightingale. And please pour tea if you would? I’d like mine with milk, but Piers will probably take a brandy.”
Jessie carefully obeyed, hearing a clink as Piers decanted a healthy portion of the golden liquor. After the day she’d had, she wouldn’t have refused a glass of her own, but remained silent and enjoyed the tea.
“Well then,” began Sir Gerald, crossing his legs comfortably. “If you agree, I think we might start you off on the morrow, Miss Nightingale. You can view the estate office here in the Hall, and Piers can take you to the estate manager’s residence.”
Jessie blinked. “There’s a residence?”
“Indeed, yes. It’s quite small, a mere cottage actually, but snug and well maintained. We’ll have to assign you a maid and probably a footman, too, since it would be advisable for a young woman to have some company in such circumstances.”
“You certainly couldn’t live here in the Hall, Miss Nightingale.” Piers’ tone contained a note of cool scorn.
She ignored it. “I appreciate that, of course, Mr Crawford. However accommodations such as those you’ve described, seem luxurious indeed for an estate manager.”
Sir Gerald’s lips curled into an amused grin. “We rate that position most highly. In fact, we’re rather eccentric here at the Hall, because we rate all those who work for us as very important people. Far more so than some guests who drop by from London.”
“A unique attitude, to say the least,” observed Jessie. “But one that has a great deal of merit, in my humble opinion.”
“You realise that your wages cannot yet match those of your predecessor,” commented Piers coolly.
“Since I don’t know what those were, Mr Crawford, I can make no observation as to that matter. I shall leave it in your father’s capable hands, and trust him to deliver whatever recompense he feels suitable.”
Sir Gerald shot his son a look of amusement. “Quite correct. I will ensure that the business is settled to everyone’s satisfaction, Piers. Since you’ve never bothered your head about it before, I see no reason for you to worry about it now.”
Jessie watched Piers’ face, wondering if he would be angry at the subtle rebuke. He merely shook his head, his shoulders rising and falling on a sigh. “I never know what to make of these fits and starts you engage in, Father. But you appreciate I have the utmost confidence in your decisions, no matter how idiosyncratic they may be.”
“Even though I’m hiring a woman to do what is currently—and has been for centuries—a man’s job?”
Piers’ gaze drifted to Jessie and rested on her for a few brief moments. She was being assessed, she knew. It was quite unmistakable. She raised her chin and stared back. But not by a flicker of an eyelash did he indicate his thoughts.
“It will either be a complete failure, or Miss Nightingale will astound me by demonstrating proficiency at it.” He downed the rest of his brandy and stood. “Time will tell, Father. I’ll give you both a month. If Crawford Hall is still standing, and we’re not teetering on the brink of financial disaster, I will declare Miss Nightingale satisfactory.” He walked to the door. “That’s my final word on the matter. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ma’am. Be ready to move to your new quarters. Half past eight tomorrow morning. Sharp.”
Jessie didn’t even have chance to rise and curtsey, for he was gone before the echo of his last order had faded from the room.
Sir Gerald put his cup and saucer back on the tray as Jessie rose, knowing the evening was at an end. “Be patient with him, Miss Nightingale. I tend to present him with surprises now and again, and he puts up with me far better than others would.”
“It’s not my place to be anything other than patient, Sir Gerald,” she replied quietly. “I am deeply aware of the confidence you’ve expressed in my abilities, which—given the fact we’ve not known each other for a whole day yet—is extraordinary. Unheard of, in fact.” She gazed at him. “I will do my best not to let you down.”
“You need not reassure me,” he nodded. “I knew as soon as we began conversing that your mind is quite different to that of your contemporaries. And I decided to listen to my intuition and take a chance. The more we talk, the less that chance becomes. I’ve always trusted my instincts, Miss Nightingale But time will tell, so off to bed with you. I hope you sleep well, because I foresee a somewhat challenging day tomorrow.” His lips twisted into a wry grin.
“I’ve dealt with my fair share of critics, sir,” she grinned back. “And I doubt Mr Crawford could be any worse than the mamas of some of the children I’ve had to deal with.”
“Good point,” he chuckled, opening the door for her. “Very good point indeed.”
*~~*~~*
