Danger to the Duke Read online

It was undoubtedly a treasure which should be preserved and appreciated by the County in which it stood.

  Without being told, Michael knew it was to be his task for the future and it was one he accepted wholeheartedly.

  ‘You are mine,’ he told the house silently, ‘and nothing or nobody shall spoil you.’

  A bridge crossed a lake which he thought was connected with the artificial lake he had seen further up the hill and then the horses were climbing an incline which led to the front of the house.

  What Michael could now see was a large flight of steps leading up to the front door and an exit through an archway on the right, which he was sure would lead him to the stables.

  He turned in through the archway and found a cobbled yard, as he had expected, leading to a long row of stables.

  Michael had no sooner driven in than a stable boy appeared and pulling in his reins, he whispered to Adela,

  “Now you stay here and wait until I return.”

  “You will not be long?” she asked tensely.

  “I hope not,” he replied. “It is just a question of whether or not they will engage me.”

  He smiled as he spoke and she smiled back, but she knew he was nervous.

  Michael stepped down from the chaise and said to the stable boy,

  “I have come to enquire about a position in the household. Will you tell me who I should see?”

  The boy, who appeared fairly intelligent, thought for a moment.

  “I suspects it be Mr. Barrett. ’E be the secretary, so to speak.”

  “Thank you and will you please look after my horses and my sister who is sitting in the chaise.”

  “They’ll be all right ’ere.”

  “And where is the back-door?”

  The boy pointed with his finger to a gap between two rhododendron bushes near the archway.

  Michael walked towards it, having laid his hat down on the seat beside Adela.

  He thought as he walked through the bushes it was a good thing that the clothes he had brought with him from India were not in the least smart or up-to-date.

  When he saw the kitchen door ahead of him, he smoothed down both sides of his hair from its middle parting.

  He knocked on the door and when there was no answer he opened it.

  He found he was in a long passage with a flagged floor and with larders on either side.

  He walked on and hearing voices he realised they came from what he was sure was a large high-ceilinged kitchen and when he looked in through the open door he found that he was not mistaken.

  There were three women chattering amongst themselves, preparing dishes that lay on the table while on a big range there were saucepans and kettles.

  He moved through the door saying,

  “Excuse me, but can you be kind enough to tell me where I can find Mr. Barrett?”

  “’E be in the Estate Office,” one of the women replied.

  They were all looking at him curiously and Michael guessed they were wondering why he wanted to see Mr.

  Barrett.

  He saw no reason why he should assuage their curiosity.

  “Which way is it?” he asked.

  The woman pointed to the direction in which he was already proceeding.

  “It be the second door on the left.”

  “Thank you. I am very grateful for your help.”

  He walked on and heard them talking about him as he went, thinking that they at any rate looked respectable and the kitchen was clean.

  He soon found the second door on the left and knocked on it.

  Then without waiting for a reply, he opened it into quite a large room that seemed to be filled with the usual boxes containing documents, maps and anything else concerning the management of a large estate.

  There were two desks, one of which was empty, whilst at the other sat a middle-aged man with greying hair.

  He looked up as Michael approached and as he did so, Michael thought he had never seen a man look more worried.

  There were deep lines under Mr. Barrett’s eyes and Michael could sense an anxiety that amounted almost to despair.

  He reached the front of the desk and in a voice which was humble and very different to his own he began,

  “Good afternoon, sir.”

  “You want to see me?” asked Mr. Barrett.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “I have heard by chance,” replied Michael, “that there is a vacant position here for which I would like to apply.”

  Mr. Barrett looked at him in astonishment.

  “Are you referring to the fact that we need a butler?”

  “Yes, sir. I was informed that the man you had employed has just left and I am in fact looking for a situation in this part of the country.”

  Michael thought that there was some glint of interest in Mr. Barrett’s tired eyes.

  “Do you have any references?”

  “Yes indeed, sir. I have my reference here with me.”

  He felt in all his pockets as if he had forgotten where he had put it and then he took out the reference he had written and handed it to Mr. Barrett.

  He knew very well that the secretary was impressed by what he read.

  “How soon would you be prepared to start work?”

  enquired Mr. Barrett.

  “Immediately, sir, as it happens. But there is just something I must tell you which I hope will not prevent you from offering me the position.”

  “What is it?”

  “I have my sister with me as my parents have just died, which is why I have had to leave India. We have given up their cottage and now I will have to find somewhere else to live.”

  He paused and before Mr. Barrett could speak he continued quickly,

  “My sister is young, but she is very good with a needle. In fact she was taking in quite a lot of sewing when she was at home with my parents.”

  “You mean she is prepared to be a seamstress here?”

  “I am sure you will find her extremely skilful,”

  Michael assured him.

  “We are actually in need of a seamstress as well as a butler and if you can start at once it will suit me, as we are very short-handed at Grangemoore.”

  “It is very kind of you, sir, I am extremely grateful.”

  There was a short pause and then Mr. Barrett remarked,

  “You may find the situation here somewhat difficult to start with.”

  Michael looked at him enquiringly.

  “We are in fact waiting for the arrival of the new Duke who is coming home from India.”

  “From India!” exclaimed Michael as if it was a surprise.

  “Perhaps you met Major Michael Moore while you were there,” suggested Mr. Barrett.

  Michael wrinkled his eyebrows as if he was thinking.

  “I seem to remember the name, sir, but there are always a great number of Officers present at Viceregal Lodge. I was more concerned with his Lordship and we had a number of Indian servants to attend the guests.”

  “I understand,” said Mr. Barrett, “but until His Grace arrives Mr. Cyril Moore is in charge and you will take your orders from him.”

  “I understand, sir,” answered Michael, “and perhaps you would like to meet my sister and have a word with her.”

  “I would like to see her, but at the same time, Morris, you have not asked me what your salary will be.”

  Michael smiled.

  “I cannot believe that in such a large and impressive house as this, sir, it would be unacceptable.”

  For the first time since Michael had arrived Mr. Barrett smiled.

  He then mentioned a sum which Michael recognised as being slightly on the generous side.

  “If that satisfies you, then bring your sister in.”

  “At the moment I have with me a chaise and two horses which belong to a gentleman for whom my father worked for many years. When I told him I was coming in this direction he lent them to me and if you would be kind
enough to stable them for a few days, when I have some time off, I will take them back.”

  “I quite understand,” agreed Mr. Barrett, “and there is plenty of room in the stables as the grooms will tell you.”

  “Thank you, sir, thank you very much indeed.”

  Michael left the room and hurried down the passage leading to the kitchen door.

  Adela was sitting where he had left her and looking, he thought, very attractive but a little apprehensive.

  “It is alright,” he said, speaking loudly enough for the stable boy to overhear. “We have got the position and you are to help with the sewing.”

  “Oh, I am glad, so very glad.”

  Adela climbed out of the chaise and Michael untied his luggage.

  “I will carry these,” he told her, “and I expect you can manage your bag.”

  Adela’s eyes were twinkling as she answered,

  “I have carried it before.”

  Michael was speaking to the stable boy,

  “Can you put the horses away or do you want me to help you?”

  “I can manage,” the boy told him, “and the others when I can find ’em will give me an ’and.”

  “I will come back later to find out if they are as comfortable as I hope to be!”

  “You needn’t worry,” answered the boy. “I knows a good ‘orse when I sees one.”

  “That is something you will find useful all your life, but better men that you have been deceived.”

  The boy laughed at that remark.

  Michael picked up his luggage and walked ahead with Adela following him.

  He returned to Mr. Barrett’s office leaving his luggage outside in the passage.

  When he knocked and walked in there was an elderly woman standing beside the desk talking to Mr. Barrett.

  “Oh, here he is!” exclaimed Mr. Barrett.

  There was a note in his voice which made Michael think he was half afraid that he had driven away and did not intend to return.

  “I have brought my sister, sir,” he said respectfully.

  He saw Mr. Barrett’s eyes widen and knew he was surprised that Adela was so pretty.

  “Your sister will work in Mrs. Smithson’s department.

  She is our housekeeper.”

  Michael held out his hand.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Smithson, and I know you will find my sister will be really helpful. They always said at home that she was a wizard with a needle.”

  “I can certainly do with two or three wizards at the moment,” Mrs. Smithson responded tartly.

  Then as she looked at Michael he was aware that there was an expression of surprise creeping over her face.

  “Now as I expect you have brought your luggage with you,” said Mr. Barrett, “you will want to know which room to take it to. The butler always sleeps on the ground floor near the pantry. Of course, Morris, your sister will be upstairs.”

  Michael was conscious that Adela stiffened at the idea of being parted from him.

  He immediately hesitated as if he was finding it difficult to express himself and then said,

  “It may seem a little strange to you, sir, but since I have been out in India and travelling to different places with his Lordship, I have acquired a touch of agoraphobia. If it is not too inconvenient would it be possible for me to sleep in one of the upper rooms where there would be more air?”

  Mr. Barrett looked at Mrs. Smithson.

  “I’ll see to it,” she volunteered, “and I expects you’d like your sister near you.”

  “I would indeed. She has never been away from home before and will feel nervous if she is on her own.”

  “That is true,” added Adela in a very small voice. “I would like to be near Martin, if it would not be any trouble.”

  “Now you leave it to me,” asserted Mrs. Smithson,

  “and I’ll take you up right away.”

  She bent towards Mr. Barrett and whispered something in his ear.

  Michael knew she did not mean anyone else to hear what she was saying, but his hearing was exceptionally acute and he was in fact aware of every word.

  “We must not let this young girl be seen by those terrible men,” she had said.

  “No, no of course not,” replied Mr. Barrett quickly.

  Mrs. Smithson straightened herself.

  “Now come along and I will show you where you are both to sleep.”

  Michael picked up his luggage and Adela her bundle.

  They followed Mrs. Smithson up a side staircase, which took them to the first floor and then they walked a short way and there was another staircase leading to the second floor.

  Michael climbed up it slowly.

  He was thinking that if there were unpleasant men in the house they might constitute a real danger to Adela.

  In what he had heard said about Grangemoore Hall there had not actually been any mention of women and it was only now he thought that the ‘goings on’, as they had been called, might concern not only hard drinking men, but the women they would associate with.

  He wondered if he was making a mistake. Perhaps he should have insisted that Adela should go on to her aunt in Northumberland and yet he had the feeling that she would never be able to manage such a long journey alone.

  She was sure to get into trouble of some sort and at least here, whatever happened, he would be with her.

  Mrs. Smithson only went a little way along the passage before opening a door.

  “This is where in the old days, when I first comes to the Hall, we put the bachelors when there was a big party,”

  she told them. “The beds are comfortable and I will of course give you sheets from the linen cupboard that have been aired.”

  “I am very grateful to you,” said Michael, “and I hope that you will find Adela a real help.”

  “I’m sure I shall. But she must keep herself to herself and stay close to me.”

  “That is exactly what I hoped you would say.”

  His eyes met Mrs. Smithson’s and he sensed she was trying to tell him what she was afraid of.

  “Now your room,” she turned to Adela, “is next door.”

  The two rooms were well-furnished and almost identical.

  Michael was amused to see that the pictures on the walls were indeed suitable for the bachelors who had earlier occupied them, as the walls were covered with sporting prints of gentlemen shooting, fishing and hunting. He thought they were just what he would expect to find at Grangemoore Hall.

  They carried their luggage into the two bedrooms and Mrs. Smithson took Adela to see the housekeeper’s room.

  This was where both she and Michael would eat as was correct in a large house.

  Adela was shown the sewing room which was empty as both the seamstresses had left.

  “You seem to have had quite a lot of staff leaving,”

  commented Michael as he walked towards the staircase.

  “I’m not surprised,” answered Mrs. Smithson. “I’d leave meself if I had somewhere to go.”

  Michael looked at her in consternation.

  “Surely you don’t mean that. The late Duke must have relied on you when he was alive and the new Duke, who I hear will be coming soon, could not, I am sure, manage without you.”

  “Well he’ll have to if he doesn’t arrive soon. I’ve had enough and that’s exactly what Mr. Bowles said when he left the day before yesterday.”

  Michael gathered this was the name of his predecessor which he had not heard mentioned before.

  “I did not ask why he left,” he said.

  “He couldn’t stand it any more and that’s what all of them have said. I haven’t a decent housemaid left and the last one, who had been with me for ten years, said, ‘enough is enough and I’m not standing any more of this for another day’, and off she goes.”

  “What is wrong here?” asked Michael.

  “You’ll find out soon enough and I can only hope you’ll be brave enough to wait until His G
race arrives. I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.”

  Michael thought it would be a mistake to say any more.

  Adela was listening to this conversation wide-eyed.

  He left her with Mrs. Smithson and walked down the staircase which led to the ground floor where he found the pantry.

  Three young men were lounging on sofas and they were obviously the footmen.

  “It ain’t what we’ve ever been before,” one of them said, “but when they couldn’t get anyone else, they had to have us.”

  “I hope you will help me,” asked Michael. “Suppose we start at the beginning and you tell me what is wrong here at Grangemoore.”

  The footmen looked at each other and one of them shook his head.

  “We daren’t say nothin’,” he said in a low voice. “The Master catches one man saying somethin’ about him and he knocks him down and kicks him out of the house afore he could open his mouth again.”

  He spoke in a whisper and there was no doubt in Michael’s mind that the boy was frightened.

  “Very well,” he said, “I will find out for myself. But you must tell me if I am doing anything wrong before I get kicked out too!”

  The boys laughed, but at the same time Michael noticed two of them glance towards the door as if they were afraid someone might be listening.

  He looked at the clock.

  “It is getting on for six o’clock and if you will show me where the Master – as you call him – is likely to be, I will ask him if he would like a drink before dinner.”

  One of the boys giggled.

  “He’ll want that right enough. He always has a bottle of champagne in the study and there’s the next one waiting for him.”

  He pointed at a bottle of champagne standing in cold water in the sink.

  “Who told you to put it there?” asked Michael.

  “Mr. Barrett,” was the reply.

  “Very well, if you wipe it dry, I will take it with me and one of you must show me where the study is.”

  The boy did as he was told and carried the bottle.

  Michael walked down the passage beside him.

  The hall was just as impressive as he expected it to be with exquisitely carved statues of Gods and Goddesses in alcoves and a magnificent marble mantelpiece.

  As they passed one door the boy said in a whisper,

  “That be the blue drawin’ room.”

  He was obviously afraid of his own voice and he spoke even lower as they passed what he said was the tapestry room and the Reynolds room.