“No, Mr.Merryweather. I believe now it is the rents. It is nearly quarter day,” Collins replied, pursing his lips.
“Oh dear,” Merry murmured. He looked at me. “Tiberius is not the most attentive of landlords, and quarter days are when the rents are due from every cottager, farmer, and tenant on Templeton-Vane land. And every one pays in person, coin in hand. He will be inundated with visitors from morning to night. Tell me, Collins, has he begun drinking yet?”
“Only a little whisky in his morning coffee,” Collins admitted. “And then a very nice full-bodied Burgundy with luncheon.”
“An entire bottle?” Merry’s brows rose skyward.
Collins discreetly held up two fingers before turning to me. “No doubt you will meet other members of staff during your stay, Miss Speedwell, but you may rely upon myself, Mrs.Brackendale, or Lily to attend to any of your wants. His lordship has issued strict instructions that you are to be afforded every possible comfort whilst at Cherboys. Now, Lily will show you to your room.”
Merry and I arranged to meet after I had freshened myself, so I trotted obediently after Lily, listening to her cheerful prattle as she pointed out still more features of the house as we mounted the broad principal staircase. “Now, the family portraits is all in the picture gallery, and I wager you’ve never seen the like of that room, miss. It has a window in the ceiling it does, three stories above. It makes me giddy to look up at it, it does. The billiard room is where the Russianpaintings is, all grim-looking saints and a Jesus as wants a good meal, I reckon. Here in this staircase hall is the Italian collection,” she said, waving a hand to indicate the paintings hung in heavy gilded frames. At a glance I noted a Leonardo, a pair of Titians, a gloomy Caravaggio, and a particularly fine Tintoretto triptych.
Looking up, I saw that the ceiling of the staircase hall was covered in frescos. “Heaven.” She pointed upwards. “The walls below used to be painted with...the other place,” she said in a low whisper. “The late Lady Templeton-Vane didn’t think it decent, so it were all painted over and these pictures hung instead, although why anyone would want a painting of some dirty boats is beyond me.” I smiled as we passed a Canaletto series of gondolas.
We left the stairs at the first landing and I saw that we had emerged into a wide rectangular gallery open to the floor below. “Stand just here, miss, and you can see how it is arranged. Below us is the pictures what I did tell you about, the family portraits and such.” I peered over the railing and saw beneath us the long expanse of the picture gallery. On the floor above us, another corridor circled the opening to the gallery, whilst far above, a top light permitted illumination. It was a clever architectural conceit, permitting light and a sense of spaciousness.
Lily, no doubt trained well by the redoubtable Mrs.Brackendale, did not point but gestured by nodding her head. “Across that way is the children’s wing, the nurseries and governess quarters and schoolrooms, although none of those are in use now, of course. Overlooking the drive and away to the sea is his lordship’s suite.” She turned. “Along the back of the house is one of the large guest suites, meant for guests that haven’t yet arrived. Italians, I’m told.”
“That would be Count Salviati and his countess,” I said.
“Aye, that sounds right. In the back corner, overlooking the garden, that is where your room is, miss. It has a wee balcony for sittingshould you take a mind to admire the view. Them Italians in their suite come next to your room, then the back stairs, the linen room, and the sitting room for visiting ladies’ maids.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t one of those,” I told her, knowing well I would lower myself in her estimation by the admission. Travelling without a lady’s maid was as scandalous as losing one’s maidenhead in certain circles. Of course, I did not have one of those either, but the loss hardly troubled me. “I am sorry it will make extra work for you, but I assure you I am entirely capable of looking after myself.”
“As you please, miss, but if you need a hem whipped or a bit of lace mended, you come to me,” she told me firmly. “Mrs.Brackendale will have my guts for garters if she thinks I’ve not taken care of you properly.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I am not meant to speak like that in front of guests.”
“Well, I am not your customary guest, Lily,” I advised her.
“God’s own truth, that is,” she agreed. She relaxed enough to point upwards. “The other large guest suite is meant for the Scots and it is on the floor above us with the bachelors’ rooms. Mr.Revelstoke is in the corner, just above your room, miss, and the vicar is next door, over his lordship’s suite, as it were. And the floor above that is the attics, maids’ rooms and lumber rooms and so forth.” Along the walls were alcoves housing assorted seminude statues of nymphs and warriors in Classical poses. “These are called nimps,” she informed me. “They’re ladies what had special powers—talking to trees and whatnot. And some of the statues are men with their bits out, so mind you don’t get startled.”
I suppressed a smile.
“Thank you, Lily. You have been a most informative guide.”
“Thank you indeed, miss.” She pinked with pleasure. “Come this way and I will show you to your room. Mind you look out the windowsas we move to the back of the house. The views are of the gardens, not the sea, but for my money, Devon is as pretty a country as you’ll find.”
•••
She led me to a bright and airy room of generous proportions. It was furnished and carpeted in delicate shades of green and violet. “The Pomona Suite,” she said, throwing out her arms.
“Pomona? After the Roman goddess of spring?” I enquired.
“No, miss. After that,” she said, nodding to a dog basket in the corner. Lying in state was a sleeping dog—at least it seemed to be sleeping.
“Stoker’s pet,” I observed, recognising the creature from the story Merry had told.
“That it is, miss. After it did die, Mr.Revelstoke stuffed it and Lady Templeton-Vane said it was a masterpiece, but old Lord Templeton-Vane wouldn’t have it in the public rooms and ordered it destroyed. Her ladyship had it moved here instead. I can take it out if it troubles you,” she said, moving towards it.
“No, thank you,” I told her. “It doesn’t bother me in the least.” There was something oddly touching about having a bit of Stoker’s childhood in my rooms, and although I might have chosen a more decorous item, I could not choose a more meaningful one.
CHAPTER
9
I washed and changed into a walking dress and stout boots, longing for fresh air and a bit of late summer sunshine. I retraced the route I had taken with Lily, making my way to the entrance hall, where Merry was waiting. We left the house through the garden entrance, a small lobby hung with an elaborate green glass lantern. The little room gave on to the terrace, which ran the distance of the back of the house. From there, shallow steps descended to a series of small outdoor rooms, each with its own distinct style and purpose.
“The knot garden and the rose alley were laid by my mother,” Merry told me with some pride as we made our way down a long, straight corridor of roses, great flowering shrubs heavy with perfumed blossoms. In the middle a sort of bower had been made, with benches and an archway of roses meeting overhead and sprinkling petals like so much silken, scented confetti. Merry gestured towards a gap in the shrubbery. “This path here leads through the little copse we saw as we drove in. It will take us out onto the cliffs.”
