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BOOK: Laura Matthews
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As to matters on the estate, I am not so sanguine. Mr. Glover informs me that the amount you suggested would possibly cover the roof repair and water closet. I gather the latter is a rather expensive operation. The upkeep of the grounds and the painting of the interior rooms could not be covered. I am sensible of the usefulness, in fact the necessity, for the roof repair and water closet but must feel that the other items are almost equally important. Perhaps you did not visit the kitchen during your stay. I assure you no self-respecting gentleman would let a house with such a miserable hole—so dark and ill-equipped. I would give it priority over the grounds, even over the interior painting. Your predecessor had the bake house torn down but not replaced. That alone is vital to the functioning of a gentleman’s house, to say nothing of the need for a range.

In an effort to find some resources not currently available from your estate, Mr. Glover has suggested the services of a gardener, gamekeeper and dairy maid. The latter two would more than compensate for their wages, and the former would partially do so, as well as making a start on the upkeep of the grounds.

I would appreciate your approval of these plans, as I am anxious to fulfill my commission here.

Your obedient servant, Glenna Forbes

P.S. Thank you for the horse.

 

Huntley.

20 August 1804

 

My dear Miss Forbes: I am pleased that you have arrived safely at Manner and enjoyed your trip. It is with some reluctance that I give my permission for you to hire a gardener, gamekeeper and dairy maid, for I cannot see that a town-bred young lady will know how to supervise their activities and I have no intention of sparing Glover from his duties to assist you. Do not think that I do not appreciate the effort you are making, but I would rather that you did not get beyond your depth. You may use any profits from these activities for those improvements I outlined to Glover. I cannot understand the importance you attach to the kitchen; perhaps it is a bugbear with you, but I would appreciate your restraint in my house. I wish you luck in learning to ride.

Yours, etc., Pontley

 

"A  bugbear!” Glenna exclaimed on receipt of this missive. "Can you believe him, Phoebe? Where does he think his meals come from—the stables?”

“You must remember that it is his house, Glenna. If he doesn’t wish to improve the kitchen, there is nothing you can do about it.”

Glenna’s face was set stubbornly. “Pontley commissioned me to supervise the work so that he might obtain a tenant. I cannot believe he will get one with the kitchen in its present condition.”

“Let him find that out later, love.”

“But, Phoebe, he has provided me with a house and a horse and I would feel remiss if I didn’t succeed in his purpose.”

“You are too conscientious by half, Glenna. Let it be.”

But Glenna could not feel at ease over the situation. Interspersed with the new duties she assumed, and the riding lessons Phoebe gladly offered, she sat down with the books in the library, searching for a solution. Her head was soon spinning with animal husbandry, crop rotation, butter churning and game statutes. Phoebe insisted on excursions to Minehead and Selworthy, proclaiming her friend a very dull companion indeed with her nose forever in a book. The excursions proved more useful than Glenna expected.

 

Manner Hall

30 August 1804

Lord Pontley: I have studied the various possibilities and ask your permission to institute several new activities here, with an end toward providing funds for the kitchen renovation. There is a flourishing basket-making industry in Minehead and we find that we would be able to provide rushes for this work to the village women with some profit to the estate. I should like also to increase the poultry so that the eggs and chickens may provide additional revenue. Since there can be no importation of partridge eggs from France during the current state of affairs, I should like your permission to institute a small enterprise in that line as well. Your answer will be eagerly awaited.

Yours, etc., Glenna Forbes

 

Huntley

4 September 1804

 

Miss Forbes: You are defeating my purpose in sending you to
Manner Hall. There is no need for you to exhaust yourself in such activities as you enumerate for my edification. For God’s sake, woman, all I had in mind was for you to
keep an eye on the work going forward—surely a simple task. I do not refuse my permission for your activities, but I hope you will think better of them. The kitchen seemed perfectly adequate to me; my meals there were far better than I receive here.

Yours, etc., Pontley

 

“There, I told you he had no idea of what a kitchen should be,” Glenna proclaimed triumphantly as she waved the letter in her friend’s face. “He thought the kitchen perfectly adequate! Imagine! If Betsey were not a wonder, we would have no meals at all.”

“Captain Andrews will be here any moment,” Phoebe reminded her. “Had you best not change now?”

“Of course. Forgive me for ranting so.” She turned to go but stopped. “He did not refuse his permission, though, so I suppose I may do as I wish.”

Phoebe sighed. “Glenna, I will be very upset if you are not dressed by the time Captain Andrews arrives.

“Yes, yes. I am going.”

Captain Andrews had arranged for them to visit Dunster Castle, since the Luttrells were not presently in residence. He had had shipping commissions from John Luttrell over the years and the housekeeper, an amiable woman, showed them about the main apartments. Phoebe was delighted with the captain’s knowledge of the house and its contents, for he had been there before. The inner hall formed the nucleus of the house, with its spider’s web ceiling and over-mantel decorated with the arms of Thomas Luttrell and his wife Margaret Hadley, one of the few commoners to have heraldic supporters.

The Great Parlor was paneled as well, with an elaborate plaster ceiling; its recessed square center with a quatrefoil panel framed by a rib decorated with leaves, flowers and fruit caused Phoebe to murmur, “Just what we need at Manner Hall, Glenna. Perhaps you should write Lord Pontley. The acanthus leaf scrolls would surely attract a tenant.”

“She mocks me, Captain Andrews. I vow I have not the least intention of going beyond what is necessary at Manner, my dear Phoebe...and the kitchen is necessary.

But it was after they had studied the allegorical portrait of Sir John Luttrell and the almost equally fascinating “Portrait of a Young Cavalier,” that an idea occurred to Glenna and she mused, “Now that is what we need.”

Phoebe had been studying the extravagant costume and asked, “What is that, my dear? A fancy dress ball?”

“See his boots? What do they remind you of?”

“They look as though two enormous butterflies had set down on them,” Phoebe laughed.

“Precisely. And that reminded me of bees. I think I shall keep some bees.”

“Good Lord, you cannot be serious,” Captain Andrews exclaimed. “Why ever would you do such a thing?”

“We could sell the honey.”

And so when they returned to the Hall and Phoebe strolled through the gardens with Captain Andrews, Glenna took pen in hand.

 

Manner Hall

15 September 1804

 

Most Honored Landlord: The renovations proceed very well and though the work for the drain pipes causes an enormous amount of dust which quite oversets Mrs. Morgan, the progress is excellent. The roof is already mended and the grounds are looking better. It will take some time to make them entirely presentable, of course, but I consider the improvement little short of miraculous. I should like your permission to keep bees.

Yours, etc., Glenna Forbes

 

Huntley

22 September 1804

 

Ambitious tenant: You have it, God help me.

Yours, etc. Pontley

 

It was some time before Glenna was able to undertake her latest project, as friends had come to visit. There were excursions made to the picturesque villages of Luccombe and Allerford, as well as walks on the moor and rides through the Home Woods. From Dunkery Hill they could see the distant hills of Wales across the channel and watch the skylarks drift over the golden brown trees.

Peter Westlake arrived a week after the other guests and Glenna found her time much occupied with him. There was no time to think of bees when she had his company on top of her other duties about the estate.

When they rode out one day Peter was impressed with her recently acquired skill of riding. “You have a good seat for a beginner. Is the mare your own?”

“Oh, no, Pontley got her for me, and I must say I’m very fond of her. Most days I find it necessary to ride out to speak with the gamekeeper or see the progress of the further gardens, so learning to ride became essential.”

“This viscount... Well, I suppose I have no right to ask.”

Glenna reined in her mount under a stand of trees, where he joined her. “You may ask me anything you wish about him, Peter.”

“Mother told me you were engaged to him last winter, but he was a naval captain then, of course. Did he expect to come into the viscountcy?”

“No, far from it. His cousin William died in the spring, and shortly afterwards they received word that the younger brother, Keith, had been killed in India last autumn.”

“So it did not matter to you that he wouldn’t have a title.”

Glenna regarded him perplexedly. “No, why should it?”

“I have much less chance than he of ever having a title,” he replied stiffly. “Both of my older brothers already have sons.”

“I’m sure I’m happy for them.” She grinned and pushed the curls away from her eyes. “You must know I don’t give a fig about such things as titles, Peter.”

"Then why were you going to marry him? That is...all these years you have not become engaged..."

“Do you want to know if I was attached to him?” she asked gently.

Peter refused to meet her gaze but stared stolidly at the channel some distance away. When he did not speak, Glenna continued, “I hardly knew Pontley, really, but he seemed a good man. Father fretted that I would not be well provided for when he died, and his fondest wish was that I would have the security of marriage.”

“If you are saying that you became engaged to him for your father’s sake, then why did you break the engagement?” Peter’s tone indicated that he did not believe her.

Although irritated by his incredulity, she answered him evenly. “There were many reasons for crying off, Peter. I was not particularly pleased with his abandoning his naval career, though I could understand the necessity. Mostly, though, in the end I terminated the engagement because I had reason to believe he had formed an attachment elsewhere and felt hampered by our arrangement.”

“And is he engaged to someone else now?”

“I suppose so, though I have not been officially informed. He writes only of estate matters, and very briefly.”

“You seem to take a deal of trouble with his estate.”

The accusatory tone snapped her resolve to be patient. “I am enjoying my commission here, Peter, and have every intention of fulfilling it as best I can. Would you have me sitting in lodgings in Hastings moping about all day? I had very little knowledge of the countryside when I came and am fascinated to be learning more each day.”

“Perhaps you would not be comfortable living in London now,” he retorted.

Unwilling to come to grips with the significance of his remark when she was feeling exasperated with him, she turned away. Her eye was caught by a movement in the undergrowth of the copse and in a moment she had leaped down from the mare and trod lightly to the spot. “Oh, look, Peter, it’s a tiny deer. I think he’s wounded.”

Her companion, who had begun to feel uneasy with their conversation, was willing to abandon it on any pretext and joined her where she was crouched by the spotted baby deer. “Looks like he’s taken a ball in his leg.”

“We’ll take him to the stables and see to it.”

“For God’s sake, Glenna, how do you think we’d get him there?”

“I thought,” she said slowly, her eyes lifting to meet his, “that you could carry him, but if you do not wish to soil your clothes, I shall carry him myself.”

Peter drew her to her feet and then leaned down to pick up the struggling deer without a word. They walked silently back to their horses, where Peter was faced with the problem of mounting handicapped by the bulky animal, who in its terror continually struck out with his tiny hoofs at various places on Peter’s body. When Glenna could no longer restrain her amusement at the sight, she burst out laughing, and though his brow grew thunderous at first, in a moment he sheepishly joined in her mirth. The little creature grew still in the face of his hilarity and Peter laid him on the ground while he handed Glenna onto her horse. “Can you hold him for a moment while I mount?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she murmured, her eyes still dancing, and accepted the now-quiescent animal in her arms.

Their journey to the stables was slow, but peace was restored between them and they spoke easily on indifferent subjects. Glenna was relieved to find that Peter was not devoid of a sense of humor after all, and the ability to laugh at himself. She had begun to fear that his years in the metropolis had made him rigid, a slave to the cult of fashion and a dilettante. Pontley’s advice echoed in her mind, but she refused to credit him with the searching study she was making of her prospective suitor. After all, who took advice on matters of the heart from a man so smitten that he wrote of elfin charm and winsomeness? Glenna was well aware that the six years which separated her from her original infatuation were critical ones, and she had no intention of making up her mind until she was thoroughly familiar with this older Peter.

The advent of a deer into his stables did not discompose John Booker in the least. With an adeptness which impressed Glenna, he removed the ball and cleaned the wound. “I reckon he’ll be right as rain in a few days, ma’am. Would you have me keep him here?”

“If it’s not too inconvenient. I should not like to see him set free before he has the strength to fend for himself.” Glenna turned to Peter and smiled. “There, we have done our good deed for the day and deserve a scrumptious tea which I have no doubt Betsey will have ready.” She placed her hand on his arm and they returned companionably to the Hall where Phoebe met them at the door of the drawing room.

BOOK: Laura Matthews
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