Upon entering, they found the once-grimy worktops clean and a cheerful fire burning in the hearth. Though there was still much work to be done, at least it was functional. Betty, flushed from exertion, was still hard at work scrubbing surfaces. Spotting the sisters, she carried over the food Mrs Merriweather had prepared and placed it on the long wooden table.
The girls were in raptures over the progress, and Grace was grateful to finally sit down and sip a sweet, comforting cup of tea.
‘I had no idea you could cook, Mrs M!’ she exclaimed, biting into a slice of buttered bread that melted in her mouth before swallowing a spoonful of wholesome leek and potato soup.
‘I learnt some simple meals from our cook over the last two weeks. I anticipated we would need to fend for ourselves,’ Mrs Merriweather replied as Grace marvelled at her old governess’s prudence.
After a cheerful dinner in the kitchen, Mrs Merriweather entertained them with tales of her youthful misadventures in India.
‘I should love to visit Lucknow and see the places you and Mama grew up in,’ Heather sighed wistfully.
‘Maybe you shall, someday,’ Mrs Merriweather said, though Grace recognised thatsomedaywas merely a gentler way of sayingnever.
The Skye sisters had a basic understanding of Hindi, taught by their governess, and had long harboured hopes of visiting India to see their mother’s homeland and reconnect with her family. Grace, in particular, had been deeply fascinated by Indian culture and the Islamic faith, absorbing much of her mother’s knowledge and traditions. Yet, in their current circumstances, such a journey was little more than a distant dream—one that, despite their longing, seemed further out of reach than ever before.
Eventually, they all turned in for the night, grateful at least to have a place to call home. Grace slept surprisingly well on the lumpy mattress—until she was rudely awakened in the middle of the night by Heather, who was convinced she had heard the scurrying pitter-patter of mice across the floorboards and refused to return to her room. Unfortunately for Grace, her second attempt at sleep was just as unsuccessful. Heatherfidgeted incessantly, kicking her more than once until Grace was forced to retreat to the very edge of her large four-poster bed, clinging on for dear life.
Chapter 5
In the following weeks, they all worked tirelessly to clean every inch of the cottage. Garlic and Ginger were tasked with dealing with the mice and creepy-crawly problem, but they were utterly clueless—being young, they were far more fascinated with chasing each other’s tails. The sisters could not be annoyed; despite their lack of skills as mousers, they were undeniably talented entertainers.
Although Grace had not expected it, a few of her former tenants from the Skye Estate discovered the cottage’s state of disrepair and kindly offered their assistance during the first week of their move. They helped repair the roof and windowpanes, much to the sisters’ surprise and gratitude. Farmer Jones and his son rebuilt the shed, which now housed a cow, chickens, and a horse.
Despite this unexpected help in the beginning, as the months passed, much remained to be done. Grace had to keep a close eye on the budget; although she had set aside funds for the refurbishment, the money was rapidly dwindling.
They also needed more furniture, so Grace began by designing a writing desk, which Jimmy crafted in time for Heather’s birthday. It was well received on the day in question. That evening, after the birthday dinner, the ladies gathered in the small morning room, as the other rooms were still uninhabitable.
As Heather scribbled away at her newly received gift, Grace disclosed, ‘The last of the budget is to be spent on the kitchenas a priority, but the left wing remains untouched and still needs a great deal of work. And let us not forget that horrid incident yesterday when Jimmy got his foot stuck in the rotting floorboards, creating a hole in the dining room ceiling. The poor lad had to remain trapped for two hours before any of us even noticed he was missing.’
Mrs Merriweather snapped back severely, ‘But it was his own fault—the dolt started working on the floor by himself, even though I expressly forbade it! The boy is like the moon: a work-shy layabout, nowhere to be seen most of the time, only to turn up when you least expect him. Had I known he was starting that job, I would have sent Betty to assist him.’
‘Yes, well, you must admit he is resourceful—he had the wherewithal to think of removing his... err... lower garments and shoes to wriggle out of his trap.’
Heather looked up from her letter-writing and said, ‘Well, we certainly got to see the full moon yesterday.’
She giggled, and the sisters could not help but laugh at the poor boy’s misfortunes.
Mrs Merriweather shook her head in exasperation, ‘Between Jimmy’s antics and Betty’s incessant gossiping, I am at my wit’s end.’ she declared, looking heavenward.
Heather’s ears pricked up at the mention of gossip, ‘Ooh, what gossip?’
Mrs Merriweather waved a dismissive hand, ‘Something about Mille—Farmer Hayhurst’s daughter—running away from home. There is a rumour going around the village that she might have eloped to Gretna Green with a secret beau.’
‘Oh, who is this secret beau?’ Heather asked eagerly.
Mrs Merriweather tutted before replying, ‘No one knows, hence—why he is a secret beau.’
Millie eloped? How strange! She had always seemed far too sensible to take such a risk, Grace thought, as sheabsentmindedly took a bite of the freshly baked biscuits Mrs Merriweather had made—only to splutter and cough violently.
‘Mrs M...’ Eyes streaming, she reached for the pitcher of milk and gulped it down. ‘D...did... you put spices in the biscuits?’
Having exhausted the recipes she had learnt from Cook, Mrs Merriweather had begun experimenting in the kitchen, adding Indian spices she had sourced from the market. This rendered most of her dishes inedible, though the sisters had to admit that her chicken curry was excellent.
‘I added chilli powder—do you like it? It is very good for the sinuses, you know,’ Mrs Merriweather stated proudly.
Grace made a mental note to find a proper cook when their finances improved.
‘Now, if you two have quite finished,’ Mrs Merriweather continued, ‘we must come up with a solution to our predicament. The bench in the kitchen collapsed beneath us all during supper yesterday, and aside from the fact that my backside is still aching, all my hard work preparing that meal went to waste!’
