He was a gift from Heaven, an angel who had become her saviour. She would make sure that her work and her behaviour honoured him as much as his father and the name of Crawford.
“Miss Nightingale. This way, please.” James emerged into the corridor and led Jessie into the hall, then down a different passageway which ended in a large set of double doors. He opened one and stepped back. “Here we are. This was Mr Haskings’ office. It is now yours. I think you’ll find everything you need, but if not, just ring.”
She smiled her thanks and walked in, noting immediately the scent of beeswax and parchment. Not surprising since the woodwork shone, and the walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books.
She turned to James. “A library?”
“The Crawford Hall library, Miss. This is where all our records are kept, and other works that Sir Gerald feels important to the estate. If you’re looking for other sorts of literature, there is a smaller personal library at the western end of the house.”
“Oh no,” she said, her fingers dancing over the spines of books she itched to open. “This is perfect. A good manager needs to know not just the current situation, but also the history of the estate. How it has grown, developed…what went right and what went wrong.”
“Ah.” James was noncommittal. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it, Miss. There’ll be tea at eleven o’clock and a bit of lunch after if you’re peckish. If you need anything else, like a fire if it gets too chilly, as I said before, just ring.” He nodded to a bell pull by one of the French doors. They led out to a small terrace, but the wind was whipping up fallen leaves, and she doubted she’d be lured outside unless the day turned warmer.
“Sounds lovely,” she smiled. “Thank you, James. I believe I have all I need for the time being.”
“Very good, Miss.” He bowed slightly and left, closing the door behind him.
Walking to the desk, Jessie pulled out the chair, finding it surprisingly comfortable. A pile of correspondence lay to one side, and the drawers held other notes, papers and sharpened quills. To her right was an ornate inkwell and a large ledger dominated the left of the desk. It was this that she opened first.
Several hours later, she stood and stretched, lifting her arms above her head and walking around the room to ease her cramped muscles.
Her sojourn amidst the tomes hadn’t been for naught. She now felt as if she had a firm grasp on the estate business of Crawford Hall and was grateful that it had been so well-managed in the past. There were areas where some modernisation might show improvements, and she’d made copious notes as she read through the ledger, trusting that at some point she would be able to discuss them with Sir Gerald.
The matter of the sheep also needed some clarification.
A tap on the door, and a maid entered with a tea tray. “’Scuse me, Miss. Mr James said to bring yer afternoon tea. An’ to ask if yer’ll be wantin’ yer dinner ‘ere or over in t’cottage?”
“Oh, lovely.” She walked to a small table and chair near the window. “Right here, if you would? And yes, I would prefer dinner at the cottage. I wonder…” She paused. “Would it be possible to ask Mr Piers Crawford if he could spare me a moment of his time?”
“O’course, Miss. ‘E’s just come in from the fields, so I’ll get a message to ‘im.”
“Thank you,” smiled Jessie. “And in the meantime I shall enjoy the tea.”
She had barely finished the first cup, when another tap on the door heralded a familiar face peering around it. “You asked to see me?”
“I did, sir. Thank you for coming so promptly.” She tried to quell the rapid thundering of her heart. His expression was all business and she had to keep hers the same.
“I came too, I want to see how you’re doing.” Sir Gerald peered in over his son’s shoulder.
She shook her head and laughed. “Come in, both of you, please,” she beckoned them. “I welcome the company, although I believe I just poured the last of the tea from the pot.”
“No matter,” grinned Sir Gerald, taking a seat and waving Piers to another one. “Now, Miss Nightingale. Tell us about the estate matters and how Crawford Hall is managing.”
“Well,” she sipped, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “It is, overall, in fine fettle. That said, I do have one or two suggestions…”
