‘That’s it, you can let go.’
‘Bloo- … botheration, it took you long enough.’ George grumbled wiping her hands on her already grubby britches.
‘It’s crucial to get it just so from the first piece,’ Anthony answered, standing back to admire the restored panelling in the sitting room.
‘Do we ‘ave to do this fer the 'ole lot?’ George eyed the wall in dismay. ‘It’ll take forever.’ Anthony shook his head.
‘Only for the pieces containing woodworm and rot,’ he answered. ‘See?’ He pointed to a length of wood with small holes.
‘They worms in there?’ George muttered, stepping back in case one should suddenly pop out.
‘Are thereworms in there,’ Anthony corrected. ‘And no, they’re not really worms, more like small insects.’ George made a face, and he laughed. ‘Come on let’s replace the next bit.’
‘Well, you can take it down,’ she shuddered, ‘I ain’t…’ she paused and pulled a face. ‘I’m notgoing anywhere near no worms.’ Anthony shook his head and went to grab the hammer, when suddenly he heard the sound of a carriage. Frowning at his companion, he put the hammer down and strode towards the hall, throwing open the front door. Apprehensive but curious, George followed, taking care to stay behind her employer.
‘Grace!’ she heard him say, astonishment evident in his tone. Then, ‘Father?’ Peeping round him, George felt her heart thud. The carriage clearly belonged to somebody very flush in the pockets. She started to back up a step when suddenly a small whirlwind of fur took a flying leap from the coach and hurtled towards them, only to be intercepted by Nelson who’d come round the side of the house. The two dogs rolled about, clearly delighted to see one another, and George found herself smiling, only to have the grin wiped off her face as she watched a young woman begin to climb down.
‘What the deuce are you doing here, Jenny?’ Anthony shook his head before griping, ‘If you were planning on a family outing, a note warning me of your visit would have been helpful.’
‘I’m so sorry, darling.’ The beautifully dressed woman who was apparently named Grace came towards them. On route, she tripped over a stone and George stifled a small snigger. Anthony grinned, quipping, ‘And you’re not even in the house yet, dearest sister.’
Sister? Curiosity getting the better of her, George stepped to the side to gain a better view. As the lady got closer, it was evident she was much older than Anthony and certainly did not appear in any way embarrassed by her stumble as she unceremoniously pulled Anthony into a hug. ‘Forgive our abrupt arrival,’ she declared, stepping back to eye her sibling critically. ‘You’re looking well, Tony. Hard work clearly agrees with you.’
Anthony favoured her with a dry look and turned to his father and the young woman he’d called Jenny. George stared at her curiously. It was very clear the girl was her employer’s niece. She and her mother were like two peas in a pod. Abruptly, George became aware she was being scrutinised in return.
Face burning George took another step back, realising it wasn’t just the young woman who was staring at her, she was being observed by all three visitors. She glanced up at Anthony, resisting the urge to hold onto his arm.
‘Hello again, George,’ the Reverend bellowed jovially. ‘When did you reckon on telling Anthony you’re a woman?’
∞∞∞
There was a stunned silence as his daughter and granddaughter glared at the clergyman in unison. George had no idea what to do. Her instinct was simply to run, but before she could move, Anthony stepped in front of her. ‘I’m already aware of the fact,’ he commented evenly. ‘Is that why you’re here?’
Grace gave one last exasperated look at her father and stepped forward. ‘We have much to tell you, dear one,’ she explained. ‘Information that I believe - Georgiana is it? - will wish to be privy to. Can we take this discussion somewhere more comfortable?’
For a second Anthony remained where he was, then with a small sigh, he stepped aside. ‘We’ll go into the kitchen,’ he murmured. ‘Lead the way, George.’
With an uncertain look towards her employer, Georgiana resisted the urge to bolt through the open door and led the way to the back of the house.
‘Do you have any tea?’ Grace asked as she looked around the spotless kitchen with approval.
‘We’re not heathens,’ commented Anthony drily, striding towards the range in the huge fireplace. The visitors seated themselves at the table while George hovered near the back door, watching them warily.
‘The renovations appear to be going well,’ Grace commented. Anthony nodded, handing her a dish of tea. ‘The outside is finished, and we started on the inside this morning.’
‘I have to say it looks cleaner than I was expecting,’ Grace observed with a chuckle.
‘We have a housekeeper who comes twice a day,’ Anthony informed them, sitting down. The fact that he’d said, ‘we,’ on both occasions was not lost on either Grace or the Reverend. Neither was the smile he favoured George with when he requested she come to the table.
After a brief hesitation, George stepped away from her only means of escape and took a seat next to Anthony. Instinctively, her eyes sought those of the only other young woman in the room. Jennifer smiled at her reassuringly.
‘So, as lovely as it is to see you,’ Anthony commented mildly. ‘Why are you here? Surely you haven’t come all this way simply to tell me my labourer is female?’
Grace looked anxiously at the Reverend.
‘Come along, Father, spit it out.’ Anthony’s patience was clearly wearing thin.
Augustus Shackleford hmphed before taking a deep breath and turning towards George. ‘Some people are looking for you, lass,’ he stated without preamble. ‘And they’re not characters I’d be happy bumping into in a dark alley.’
