Part 6 (1/2)

On the wall opposite the two queens, a stag hunt was depicted. The tree at the center of the scene bore a crest showing an eagle and a child. Since she had long had an interest in such matters, Susanna recognized them as emblems of the Stanley family and knew the Stanleys were the most influential landholders in these parts. She supposed Grimshaw sought to flatter the local n.o.bility, for it seemed unlikely a mere lawyer would have the right to quarter such exalted arms himself.

On the wall between these two tributes to those in power was another crest, a s.h.i.+eld she did not recognize. ”Gules three bendlets enhanced or, a chief argent therein, on waves of the sea, a s.h.i.+p under sail proper,” Susanna murmured, enumerating aloud the elements of the heraldic device.

”The arms of the borough of Manchester,” said a voice from the doorway behind her.

Susanna turned slowly. ”Master Grimshaw?” By his dress alone, this was the lawyer.

”I am he.” A tall, gaunt, balding man of indeterminate years, his long, lugubrious face clean-shaven, he toyed with the strings that tied his ruff and regarded her with wary eyes. ”I was not expecting you, Lady Appleton. Am I to conclude you accompanied your husband on a visit to his estates?”

”Sir Robert is occupied with the queen's business. I am here in his stead, with full authority to restore Appleton Manor to its former glory.”

Her declaration seemed to startle him. ”You plan to stay, madam? At Appleton Manor?”

”Indeed, I do. I've come to Manchester to hire servants and buy livestock and seed. We can still plant winter wheat before the first frost. Then there is the matter of renovations. The foundation of the house is sound. Repairs will be necessary before one would wish to winter there, but they can be done easily enough by willing hands.”

Grimshaw cleared his throat. ”A difficult task, to find men willing, that is. The rumors-”

”Are only rumors, Master Grimshaw. There is no ghost at Appleton Manor. I believe that if we can convince the original servants to return, others will follow. Young Grizel has found new employment with my neighbor, Mistress Denholm, but what of the others?”

”Others?”

”There was a cook,” Susanna had to struggle to quell her impatience. Grimshaw's manner annoyed her. She wanted to shout at him, if only to jar him out of what appeared to be a complacent stupidity. ”There must have been other servants, though perilous little was done to keep up the grounds or repair the house.”

”A scullion,” Grimshaw reluctantly admitted, ”and an odd-job man.”

”They will have to do, then. Where did the scullion go?”

”I do not know, Lady Appleton. He was a lad of no importance.”

”Do you know his name?”

”I do not recall it.”

”The odd-job man?”

Grimshaw made a little sound of distress. ”I fear I do not remember him, either. No doubt a cottager too poor to own his own plow.”

Susanna knew such fellows were commonly hired to do hand work with spade and fork, or to help with sheep shearing, wattle weaving, bean planting, ditch digging, thatching, or brewing. On occasion they even found work guarding prisoners held for trial. It was possible she'd already met the odd-job man, among the sullen villagers in Gorebury.

”You are uncommonly ill informed,” she accused him.

”I had little to do with the day-to-day running of the estate, madam. John Bexwith saw to that.”

”Not very well.” Her irritation grew with every word Grimshaw spoke, and yet she knew he was right. It had not been his responsibility to oversee Appleton Manor. It had been Robert's, and thus her own.

Defensive, Grimshaw sputtered, then volunteered the information that he had gone to Appleton Manor in person on the occasion of Bexwith's death. ”There was no holding the servants there,” he insisted. ”The best that could be done was to store the plate and some perishable goods here in Manchester, and to sell off the livestock.”

He'd had no authority to do either, but Susanna did not admonish him. She wanted answers, which required his continued goodwill. Once she had ascertained the location of Appleton Manor's portable furnis.h.i.+ngs and arranged to reclaim them, she returned to the matter of servants.

”Do you remember the name of the cook?”

”Mabel Hussey.”

Grimshaw's prompt reply surprised her, and so did the content of his answer. ”A woman? Is that common in these parts? In London and its environs, most cooks are men.”

”Common enough. She was adequate for Appleton's needs.”

”The house or the man?”

”I do not-”

”Did she cook for Sir George before she provided that service for his steward?”

”I believe so, but as I have said already, Lady Appleton, such domestic matters were not my concern. When Sir George was alive, I visited Appleton Manor only once, when Sir George decided that he required my services to make his will.”

There was nothing unusual in that, Susanna supposed, and she could hardly criticize Grimshaw when she'd been neglecting the place so shamefully herself. When men owned properties spread out over the length and breadth of England, absentee landlords were more common than not. Even stewards sometimes delegated their authority, leaving bailiffs to handle the day to day business. But that situation was not one she endorsed, for it was almost always detrimental to the land itself.

Seating herself in one of two heavily carved chairs, Susanna regarded Grimshaw in thoughtful silence. A steward might be responsible for widely scattered estates, but John Bexwith had not been. He'd had but one demesne to oversee, and he'd neglected it sadly.

Grimshaw had done nothing to improve matters, save write nagging letters to Kent. Why? Susanna wondered about his motive more than ever, for he did not seem particularly pleased to have gotten her presence in response to them.

In his turn, Grimshaw seemed to be studying her. At last he sank into the other chair and folded his hands over a slightly concave abdomen. ”How else may I be of a.s.sistance to you, Lady Appleton?” he asked.

”I wish to hire back any former servants who will come. I must find new ones, as well. Cook. Dairymaid. A plowman and a carter, a cowherd, a swineherd, and a shepherd. I will pay ten s.h.i.+llings per annum, and thirty for an experienced chief plowman, plus livery and an allowance of grain, flour and salt. And a pair of gloves.”

Grimshaw's small, dark eyes widened a fraction. ”Most generous, madam. Hereabout you might buy a horse for thirty s.h.i.+llings.”

”As high as twenty s.h.i.+llings for a woman to brew, bake, and malt,” she continued, ”and eighteen to a woman who will work indoors. Then I will need masons and carpenters and common laborers. I will pay the latter a penny a day, which is more than they would earn from anyone else in these parts.” Briefly, she outlined her plans for rebuilding the house Robert's father had left him. ”Now, about Mabel Hussey.” She gathered her skirts in preparation to rise. ”Where is she currently employed?”

”You do not want her back,” Grimshaw said hastily.

Susanna settled back into the chair again. ”Why not?”

”Well, um, I, er, that is-”

”I see. You think she might pose a threat to me because she was the one who made that marrow-bone pie.”

Grimshaw looked horrified. ”Oh, no, Lady Appleton. There was never any suspicion that her cooking was responsible for Bexwith's death.” He sprang to his feet and came a few steps toward her before he faltered to a stop, uncertain about approaching her so closely.

No suspicion at all? Susanna found that in itself peculiar. ”Perhaps you can tell me, Master Grimshaw, what is in such a dish, aside from the marrow bones?”

Taken aback by the question, he only gaped at her.

”Come, come, Master Grimshaw. Have you never eaten a marrow-bone pie? I had a.s.sumed it was a local favorite.”

”Only for those of ample means.” At once he looked as if he wished back that remark, but she seized on his words with the alacrity of a buckhound scenting its prey.

”A delicacy, then? And why is that?”

”Lady Appleton, I a.s.sure you the pie did not cause Bexwith's death.”