“Oh goodness, I certainly do understand about rheumatism and pains,” the Duchess said. “So Mr. Rudge, what do you propose for Mr. Sparks?”
“It is my hope, Your Grace that we can pension him off. He has been talking about going to live with his daughter. Do you know anything about her? Would she take good care of him?”
“Well, I do not know her personally, but I believe that the butler does. In fact, I think she is his niece. Perhaps we should summon the butler.”
“Oh dear,” said Mayson, suddenly realizing that he might have skipped a step in the household hierarchy, “Perhaps I should have spoken with the butler first.”
“Perhaps, but no matter. We will speak with him now,” the Duchess said. “Between the four of us, I am sure we can find a good solution for Mr. Sparks.”
When the butler came in, he looked very grave. But he did not say anything until the Duchess asked, “What do you know of Mr. Sparks?”
“He came with me from your father's household,” Wilson replied, “and he has given good service for many years. He had hoped to be promoted to head cook but Mr. Rudge came with such excellent recommendations that he was hired instead. It was probably a good thing.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?” the Duchess asked.
“Frankly, Your Grace, of late, Mr. Sparks’ wits have begun to wander. My nephew’s wife, his daughter, has been trying to get him to move in with her. But he does not wish to be a burden.”
“Has he nothing saved from his pay?” The Duchess looked a little scandalized.
“Sadly, no. He started drinking brandy for his rheumatism and that was well enough at first. But now he has a nip whenever he is feeling lonely or upset or when his rheumatism is hurting him. Brandy is not part of his household allowance, and even though he buys the cheapest kind from the village innkeeper, he has spent most of what he had put by.”
“Then it would seem,” the Duchess said, “that it is not a good idea to simply give him a pension.”
“No, probably not,” the butler said. “But I believe you could pay his daughter for the keeping of him and that would serve very well. She will ration out his brandy or perhaps give him a little pint money in case he wants to spend an evening at the inn. Then he will no longer be trying to set our kitchen on fire. But who will you get in his place, Mr. Rudge?”
“I was thinking of promoting Jemmy. He is steady and he has been here several months now. He shows an interest in cooking and I believe would be quite pleased with a promotion. Although he has not said so, I think he might be courting one of the village girls.”
“Is that indeed so, Mr. Rudge?” The butler lifted his eyebrows.
“It is my belief. I have no confirmation of that,” Mayson said.
“Well, well, it is always good when we can hire our local people,” the butler ruminated. “And if he is courting one of the ladies from the village, it will give him incentive to stay with us. Are you willing to train him?”
“I would not have suggested it if I were not,” Mayson replied.
“Then all we need is to speak with Mr. Sparks to set this plan forward,” the Duchess said. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, gentlemen. I believe we have a plan that will be good for everyone. Will you make the arrangements?” she directed this latter to Wilson.
“I will,” the butler said, “and willingly. More than once I or one of the maids have had to rescue him from the coals after Mr. Rudge has gone to bed. It will be a relief not to continue keeping watch over him.”
Mayson bowed to the Duchess and gave a nod to Wilson. “Thank you both for your kindness,” he said. “Now, if I might be excused, I should get back to the kitchen. I have a potboy to promote and he has no one to take his place.”
“I will send to the agency at once,” the Duchess said. “Do not trouble yourself on that account, Mr. Rudge.”
“Then I will leave that in your capable hands, Your Grace,” Mayson said. Bowing once more, he let himself out, leaving the butler, the Duchess, and Evelyn to sort out the arrangements for Mr. Sparks.
There was one thing left to do now, and that was to inform Mr. Sparks that Jemmy would take his place. The thought filled him with no little trepidation. In addition, there was a little niggling thought—who would cook for the Duchess if he took up his title? If he did, would he even live to see the end of summer?
Chapter 19
Evelyn smiled happily at Mayson. The mid-July sunshine shone down upon her new bonnet and she was feeling quite carefree. The picnic basket swung between them as they walked toward their usual spot beneath the old willow.
“So how is Jemmy doing as under cook?” she asked.
“He is doing quite well,” Mayson replied. “I am very pleased with his work.”
“Is he indeed courting one of the young ladies from the village?”
“I believe so. The shopkeeper’s daughter, if I’m not mistaken.”