Chapter Two
Mrs. Pollitt enteredthe nursery where Jenny was assisting Nanny Evans with the children’s clothes.
The housekeeper stood primly, hands held before her, a look of unfriendliness in her eyes. “You will have the children ready when His Grace arrives?” She directed the question to Jenny, rather than Nanny, who had just disappeared into her bedroom.
“They are ready, Mrs. Pollitt.” Jenny looked up from where she bent over Barbara’s shoes. She could never get used to the way the woman addressed her. Jenny was sure she had done nothing to deserve it.
“You are to join the rest of the staff in welcoming His Grace, then I shall introduce you.” “It is not necessary for Nanny Evans to come down,” she said in a louder voice.
“I understand.” Jenny thought it entirely unnecessary to repeat all this when she’d been instructed several times over the past week.
Mrs. Pollitt smoothed down the skirts over her black bombazine gown with both hands, the keys at her waist jingling.
It was a nervous gesture.
Jenny suddenly realized that the housekeeper wasn’t quite as confident as she appeared. “I’m sure it will all go well, Mrs. Pollitt. You have done a splendid job preparing for the duke’s arrival,” she said with a warm smile.
The lady’s brown eyes hardened. “Please see to your own job, Miss Harrismith. I shall take care of mine. Bring the children down to the entry hall in…” she glanced at the watch pinned to her bosom. “One hour.”
“Yes, Mrs. Pollitt,” Jenny said meekly. A tactical error, she conceded. The woman didn’t like her, or perhaps it was governesses in general. There was little she could do about it.
“Can I take my dolls?” Barbara asked Jenny.
“I do not think that wise, Lady Barbara,” Mrs. Pollitt answered.
Barbara’s face crumpled. Both children had been unsettled all morning, and Jenny had to find ways to ensure the coming event was a joyous meeting. In one sentence, Mrs. Pollitt had undone all her good work.
“Why don’t you bring Annie,” Jenny said. “I think she would like to meet your father, don’t you think so, poppet?”
“Yes.” With a gusty sigh, Barbara slipped off the bed and ran to find her favorite doll.
Mrs. Pollitt’s lips thinned. “I shall leave His Grace to instruct you on how you are to go on,” she said curtly.
“Miss Harrismith is doing splendidly,” Nanny said, coming from her bedroom and kindly leaping to Jenny’s defense.
“We shall have to see,” Mrs. Pollitt said bafflingly and left the room.
*
The coach traveledalong the raked gravel carriage drive beside the beech-trees of the home wood, and the undulating freshly scythed lawns of the park with its magnificent trees in autumn foliage. They approached the sun-warmed stone walls of Castlebridge, Andrew’s Tudor mansion, modified during the last century to become a more comfortable home, the tall chimneys and the tower reaching into the sky. He was eager to show it all to Greta. Much of the history remained: the long latticed windows, the lofty great hall, its paneling polished like silk, with the family motto carved on the stone shield above the Inglenook fireplace, the winding stair which led to the gallery where the family history was displayed in gilt-framed portraits, and the endless corridors and secret passages, that Andrew had loved as a child.
“How utterly charming,” Greta, Baroness Elsenberg, murmured.
She sounded somewhat daunted. Andrew glanced at her. “I trust you and Ivo won’t find the countryside too short of company. You are both so fond of Viennese society.”
She touched his hand lightly with her lavender kid glove. “Of course not, I shall welcome a few days of peace.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “As will you, Ivo.”
Ivo turned from the window. “I gather there will be fox hunting?”
“I’m afraid not, unless the local hunt meets,” Andrew said. “You might ask the squire. I’ve been absent so often that the hounds are not trained.” The man was ungracious, and Andrew found him a total bore.
“What a pity.”
“But a delicious dinner will follow after you gentlemen bag your birds,” Greta said.
“In the meantime, you might try your hand at fishing for trout in the river, Ivo,” Andrew said. “If you wish to ride, my stable is at your disposal. There are some excellent bridle paths.”
“I imagine your cellar is more than tolerable, also, Your Grace,” Ivo said.
