Ellis cleared her throat again, turning to Louisa and holding out a chemise. "If it suits you then, my lady, shall I dress you and take you down to the drawing room? I'm sure Mrs. Brooks has a lot on the schedule for the day. I believe later this morning you'll get a tour of the grounds."
Louisa closed her eyes for a brief moment to fortify herself before pushing up and out of bed. She supposed she might as well start the day, if only to prevent Ellis from calling her "my lady" in that tone one more time.
Sitting alone in the drawing room, a plate of toast and a teapot in front of her, Louisa glanced around her. She must admit that she hadn't expected her breakfasts, once a raucous affair with sisters crowding on all sides and a milk jug spilled more often than not, to be quite so lonesome at St Vincent Manor. Cedric had eaten with her some mornings but usually stayed in his study. She wasn't quite sure whether or not to be offended at this slight. More worryingly however, Louisa hadn't seen the children for several days. Their wide eyes and little hands grasping for each other haunted her, and she desperately wished she could tell them that she understood even a little of their sorrow, that they weren't as alone as they felt in this cold new world.
She was broken out of her thoughts by Mrs. Brooks appearing suddenly in the doorway. Louisa jumped a little, brushing crumbs off her hands and feeling guilty though she couldn't fathom why.The woman is silent as a cat! I can't enter a room without checking for doorways she might magically appear in. No wonder I feel guilty when I'm always in fear of being crept upon and scolded like a naughty schoolgirl.
Louisa schooled her face into what she hoped was a perfectly normal and neutral breakfast expression. "Mrs. Brooks. It's so kind of you to bother yourself with me when you surely have so much to do. I must be taking up so much of your precious time each day."
If the housekeeper agreed with Louisa's assessment of their situation, she was too keen on retaining her position at the Manor to say so out loud. Instead, she sniffed slightly and advanced the length of the Drawing Room to stand at Louisa's side. "My lady. I trust you slept well?" She enquired before continuing without pause for any response. "We shall have to begin with your duties for the day if you have finished breakfasting." At this, she glanced down at the scattering of crumbs around Louisa's plate.
Louisa bristled and leaned away. "I am quite sure I can complete any duties that fall to me, Mrs. Brooks. You really don't have to worry about me."
"Yes. So you said yesterday. And the day before, my lady. I have every confidence that your abilities will develop very nicely. Eventually."
The two stared at each other, locked in a stalemate over the matter. Louisa felt her resolve crumbling under the firm, faintly judgmental eyes, before Mrs. Brooks, seemingly remembering her position, broke first. "Would you like to take a look at today's menu with me, my lady? Then I can pass it along to Cook in good time. Afterwards, I would like to show you around the garden if you approve. It's a beautiful morning, and you'll still have plenty of time for your correspondence later in the day."
Louisa graciously chose to ignore the comment on her timeliness - she had only been an hour or two late with the menu one time, was it really so important that it must be brought up every morning from now on - in favor of accepting the olive branchshe was fairly confident was being held out to her. She did want to see the garden, very much so in fact. It had rained frequently since her arrival at the estate, and Mrs. Brooks had been firmly insistent that the lady of the house could not possibly roam around outside in such a downpour. Today however, she was quite right. It looked like glorious weather to explore. She sighed and admitted defeat. "Of course, Mrs. Brooks. I wouldn't want to cause Cook any strife, after all."
Mrs. Brooks nodded her approval. "Very well, my lady. And while we're sitting down to the menu, we might as well go over the rest of the servants and the accounts, shall we? Since we're here."
Louisa's eye twitched minutely. As Mrs. Brooks sat heavily at the table and pushed a sheaf of papers towards her, she started to suspect that she had in fact been caught in a paperwork trap. She accepted the quill reluctantly and, as she turned to the first page, she hoped today was the day when she finally completed all of her duties well enough to appease the formidable housekeeper and, more importantly, her still distant husband.
"And here of course, we have the kitchen garden. Davis and his boys tend to it so beautifully. It really is one of the best in the country, you know."
Louisa tried very hard to pay attention to the tour Mrs. Brooks had insisted on personally providing. The problem - and really, it had been a problem ever since she had been propelled throughthe rose garden and out towards the double hedgerow leading down towards the pond - is that for the past two hours she had endured a never ending stream of information about every section of the garden. She had no idea if she was supposed to retain any of this knowledge. She assumed not, that it was the job of Davis, the master gardener, and his team of other lesser gardeners, to know how the grounds were laid out and what had to be done to them at what times. Really, she had no idea how or why Mrs. Brooks knew so much about the subject. All Louisa knew was that she had stopped listening quite so intently around twenty-seven minutes into the tour, and now she was entirely unsure whether or not she was supposed to be responsive.
"Is it? How do you know?" she tried, hoping to show a healthy and appropriate amount of interest. Mrs. Brooks frowned, and Louisa felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps not so appropriate, then.
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, my lady?"
Louisa tried again. "Well, you said that our- I mean Lord St Vincent's- I mean our kitchen garden is the best in the country. But how is it you know that? Surely you haven't visited all the gardens in the land."
"Well- no, I suppose not. But an estate as beautiful as this must be one of the most impressive for many, many miles. And if one's estate is the most impressive, it surely stands to reason that one's garden must be too."
Louisa nodded hard in understanding. "Of course. So it's not that you know it's the best, or even that it is the best. You just think it's the best. Out of loyalty, I suppose." She reached out to rub a crisp green vine leaf between her fingers, entirely missing the way Mrs. Brooks pressed her hands together tightly until her fingertips turned white.
"Of course I am loyal to Lord St Vincent and his estate. But it remains a fact that the garden is most impressive. Davis ensures it is so, as is his duty. You will find that the people who reside at St Vincent Manor take their duties very seriously on the whole. My lady."
Louisa let go of the leaf and turned back to the housekeeper. She elected not to acknowledge the barb she sensed simmering only a fraction below the surface of those words, nor the belated "my lady". Oh, how she wished that sometimes she could harness the gift of thinking before she opened her mouth.
She looked down at the ground, and attempted to convey her sincerity as she replied, "Of course, Mrs. Brooks. I apologize deeply, I did not mean to offend you or Davis or anyone else. Anyone can see that St Vincent Manor is a beautiful place. If I can speak earnestly, I think perhaps I'm just a little overwhelmed by the sheer scale of everything here. It's just not something I'm used to."
She didn't look up until she felt Mrs. Brooks relax slightly beside her. "Well, my lady, that's only to be expected. Moving to a new place, it's a hard thing to do. You'll get used to the way things work here eventually."
Louisa didn't like to say that she was afraid that "eventually" was an awfully long time frame. Instead, she dipped her head graciously. "Thank you, Mrs. Brooks. I do hope you're right."
The housekeeper sniffed and gestured to the path in front of them. "Shall we move on, my lady? Perhaps you'd like to see the pavilion?"
Despite her renewed best efforts to pay attention and appreciate all the knowledge of her new surroundings being rained down upon her, Louisa had to admit that it wasn't long before her mind began to wander once more. It's not that she was opposed to gardens or the outdoors. It was all perfectly lovely, really. She just wished she could wander at her own pace, explore the estate, take it all in without Mrs. Brooks' voice constantly in her ear telling her facts and names and orders she would be expected to give. It seemed to Louisa that the garden was getting along very nicely without any input at all from any ladies of any houses. Why should she get in the way now?
She was contemplating feigning a headache in order to escape when an ear splitting scream rang out from a grove of trees behind the pavilion. Mrs. Brooks looked up in alarm and Louisa whirled around, trying to see the source of the commotion.
"What was that? Was it one of the children? Oh good gracious, is someone hurt?" Louisa made to round the side of the glass building but before she could take more than a few steps, a tinyfigure raced headlong onto the path and slammed full force into her legs.
Louisa stumbled but managed to catch herself and the small boy now clinging to her dress and sobbing into the fabric. She tried to crouch before him but his tiny fists were balled tightly in her dress, and so she stroked his soft, fine hair instead in what she hoped was a soothing gesture to the terrified child.
"Kenneth? Kenneth my darling, what is it? What's the matter?"
