‘The Hamilton-Tates have agreed to take Tumble, Louisa’s dog, to end his days wi’ them, an’ they’ve also agreed that Ruffy can be buried close by to the mistress in the churchyard where they ’ave their family plot,’ Nancy informed them when she popped up to the nursery after finishing her jobs that day. ‘They weren’t too keen on the idea from what we can all gather but the master put ’is foot down apparently an’ told ’em it would ’ave been what the mistress wanted. Mr Hackett is takin’ ’er to Pickerin’. It’s funny, though?.?.?. the way Ruffy died, I mean. What would she ’ave been doin’ down at the ’arbour in the middle o’ the night, eh?’
‘We’ll never know,’ Amber said stoically and the subject was dropped, although speculation on what had happened would provide a source of gossip in the town for many months to come.
The following morning the Hamilton-Tates and Barnaby set off, with Louisa’s body following in a hearse close behind them, but not before Barnaby had been to see Charlotte to say his goodbyes.
‘Daddy will be back very soon,’ he promised as he cuddled her to him and once again Amber almost felt sorry for him, although she was careful not to show it.
‘So ’ow long do you think he’ll be gone?’ Becky said as they watched the sad procession wend its way down the drive.
‘I’ve no idea.’ Amber shrugged. She certainly wouldn’t miss him but she had no doubt that Charlotte would. She was blossoming again since they had come home.
*
Four days later, Mrs Boswell received a letter saying that Louisa’s funeral would be taking place the following morning and to expect the master back by nightfall.
‘So I wonder what’ll ’appen ’ere now?’ Becky mused worriedly.
‘I should imagine that things will go on much as they did before,’ Amber said.
‘Hm, well let’s just ’ope you’re reet! I can’t afford to lose this job, not when they’re so ’ard to come by.’
‘I shouldn’t think there’s much chance o’ that happening,’ Amber comforted her. If only she could have known how wrong she could be.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘The master’s back,’ Nancy told them the following evening when she brought their supper up to them.
‘He’ll be out of luck if he’s hopin’ to see Charlotte,’ Amber commented as she finished putting the infant’s clean clothes away. ‘She’s been fast asleep for the past hour now.’
‘I doubt that’ll stop ’im comin’,’ Nancy answered.
She was proved right when shortly after the nursery door opened and Barnaby appeared. Becky had retired to bed by that time and as always, Amber felt uncomfortable being alone with him.
‘So, er?.?.?. did the funeral go all right?’ She felt as if she should say something as he crept over to the crib to peep at his daughter.
‘As well as these affairs can go,’ he answered shortly. ‘Has she been all right?’
‘Charlotte? Yes o’ course she has.’ She didn’t bother to tell him that the child’s eyes had strayed hopefully towards the door every time it had been opened, only for her to be disappointed when she saw that it wasn’t him.
‘Very well. I’ll wish you goodnight and I’ll be back to see her first thing in the morning before Louisa’s solicitor arrives.’
Amber continued with what she was doing and breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him.
*
Charlotte gurgled with delight when she laid eyes on him the next day and again Amber felt envious of their closeness. The child was crawling everywhere now and even trying to pull herself up on the furniture and Amber had an idea that it wouldn’t be long before she took her first steps.
‘So why don’t you like the master?’ Becky asked when Barnaby had gone to keep his appointment. ‘You’re always as jumpy as a kitten when ’e’s about an’ you never say a word to ’im unless you ’ave to.’
Amber shrugged. ‘I’m not paid to talk to him, I’m paid to look after Charlotte,’ she retorted shortly.
Realising she’d clearly said something to upset her Becky wisely let the subject drop.
Downstairs, the solicitor was arriving and after showing him into the master’s study Nancy went to fetch Barnaby.
‘Good morning, Mr Dickenson,’ Barnaby greeted him when he entered the room. ‘May I get you anything? Tea, coffee?’
‘No, no thank you.’ The portly gentleman with the handlebar moustache removed his hat and ran his finger around the inside of his shirt collar as if it was suddenly too tight for him. He wasn’t looking forward to what he had to do one little bit and the sooner it was done and he could get away the better it would be as far as he was concerned.
