Page 38 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

Sammy wiped the kitchen counter once more, slower this time, checking the finish.

Work, she thought. That was all it was.

Magnus often still sat at the kitchen table with paperwork like the cellar book, throwing the occasional glance her way. Even now, he was copying details from delivery notes into that ledger, with studied concentration.

Sammy rinsed the cloth, wrung it out. ‘Can I ask you something Mr Magnus?’

He continued writing. ‘You may.’

‘Nate,’ she said. ‘How long has he worked here?’

Magnus set down his pen. He reached into his pocket. ‘Indeed.’ The watch. Click. Open. A brief glance. Click. Closed. ‘That is not relevant to your duties, Miss Jenkins.’

Magnus’s eyebrow flicked.

A warning. ‘Right. Sorry. I just thought . . .’

Sammy recalled her previous jobs, where chatter had been as much a part of the job as dishing out food or mopping the floor. It was peculiar working next to a colleague who conversed through his eyebrows. ‘How long have you worked here?’

Magnus picked up his pen. ‘I entered service at sixteen,’ he said. ‘Under Mr Wetherby.’ His tongue seemed to hover reverently on the name.

‘He was the butler here back then?’ Sammy asked.

‘He was.’

‘He taught you?’

‘He taught me everything. My family wanted me to get a job in a factory, they didn’t understand why I chose to work in private service.’

Sammy thought about that. Mr Wetherby. The photograph on the desk, stern, uniformed. That must be him. ‘You respected him,’ she said.

Magnus’s hand briefly settled on the ledger. ‘Yes.’

Sammy dropped her gaze, focussing on the cloth in her hands. ‘Can I ask you something else?’

‘You may.’

‘Have I done something to upset Valerie?’

‘She hasn’t mentioned anything to me.’

Sammy scrubbed at a mark on the counter. ‘It’s . . . she’s not exactly friendly. It’s been nearly three weeks and she’s still in the housekeeper’s room.’

Magnus pursed his lips. ‘That matter should have been resolved by now. I’ll raise it again.’

Relief flooded through her. ‘So, it isn’t me?’

Magnus frowned. ‘Valerie is a loyal and trusted member of this household. She’s been with us for fifteen years. Mrs Williams relied on her heavily.’

The relief vanished as quickly as it had come.

‘Change is hard for everyone.’

‘Of course.’ she said, picking up the cloth again. ‘If I . . .’ The words caught. ‘If I work hard enough, I’ll get it right. Won’t I?’

For a while Magnus studied her as if considering her words. ‘If you meet the standard,’ he said, ‘you will remain.’

She set down the cloth and picked up a tray of flowers she’d arranged earlier, carrying them through to the pantry and setting them down carefully. By the time she closed the door, her phone was already in her hand. ‘Hi,’ she whispered.