‘Mrs Matthews has given instruction you will meet in the parlour before she retires for the evening, after which you will eat.’
With a nod the woman left Elenor’s side. Bemused, Elenor left her case propped against the wall, and made her way to the parlour.
After an arduous journey, the last thing Elenor wanted was to entertain her aunt with information about her brothers and the farm. She wanted to put the twins to the back of her mind.
She pushed open the door and stepped into the gloomy room. It was cold to the point of unfriendliness. She was, however, grateful to note the absence of the stuffed animal heads.
Porcelain dogs and lace cloths did nothing to brighten the drab.
Unsure as to where her aunt would sit, Elenor chose to perch on the edge of the sofa, a hard piece of furniture never designed for comfort. A mantle clock ticked and Elenor shivered. A fire in the room would not go amiss. As she debated the idea, the door swung open and her aunt entered. Elenor jumped to her feet. Far from looking frail, her aunt, dressed in her usual ill-fitting black outfit, marched straight up to Elenor and stared her in the face.
‘Didn’t get the good looks of your mother then. Sit down.’ She banged her walking stick on the floor.
Shocked, Elenor did as she was told.
‘Hello, Aunt Maude. How are you?’
‘Ill. Why do you think I sent for you, girl? I’m unwell. Not that you bumpkins from the country would ever care. Not one of you has written me. Oh no, but you accept the money swift enough. It is heartening to see you do not spend it on frivolous clothing.’
Uncomfortable that her clothing had drawn scathing comments from her aunt, Elenor adjusted her dress and sat back in the seat.
‘Don’t get too comfortable. You are here to work. To look after me. Go and fetch me a light supper. Tell that thing I employ to keep this place that she is to air my bed. I feel fatigued with entertaining guests.’
Elenor rose from the seat and fought back the urge to curtsy on her way out. She hurried down to the kitchen and welcomed the warmth of the room. It had a light airy feel due to the floor-to-ceiling cream cabinets and windows looking out onto a small garden. The housekeeper, although far from tall, was bent over a white stone sink. Elenor gave a polite cough.
‘Excuse me – oh, I’m sorry I don’t know your name. My aunt would like a light supper before she retires, and her bed aired please.’
The woman turned around and Elenor could now see she was much younger than she looked when they first met in the dark hallway. Certainly, no older than thirty.
‘Certainly, Miss Cardew. I’m Victoria Sherbourne. You’ve had a long journey, miss. You must be famished. I’ll see to your aunt and you can sit here with a cup of tea while I ask if she wants you to eat with her. Her mind changes like the wind. Pour yourself a cup whilst I prepare her tray.’ She pointed to the teapot.
As she sipped the strong tea, Elenor wondered over her role attending to her aunt’s needs. The woman didn’t look ill and appeared perfectly capable. The housekeeper interrupted her thoughts.
‘My husband enjoys her company and she tolerates his.’
‘Your husband?’
Victoria busied herself with the tray.
‘Yes, George. He’s away at the moment. As a private tutor he likes to attend various talks by other masters.’
‘I look forward to meeting him.’
Elenor noted a slight flush to Victoria’s face when she spoke about him. Pride? Embarrassment? She couldn’t tell.
Victoria returned with the tray after seeing to Aunt Maude.
‘Come, I’ll show you to your room. Your aunt has gone to bed. She asked me to tell you she will breakfast with you at eight in the morning. Unpack your case and I’ll bring you a light supper on a tray.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Victoria, but it will take me all of two minutes to unpack, and I’d rather eat downstairs in the kitchen if I’m not in your way. It’s such a cosy room.’
As they reached the bedroom, Victoria pushed open the door and set down the case and bag. Elenor had no time to take a look before Victoria closed it again.
‘We’ll eat together,’ Victoria said.
Returning to the kitchen, Victoria prepared a plate of cold meat, cheese and hard-boiled eggs and set the table for two. She carved her way through a fresh loaf of crusty bread.
‘A simple supper, but one I’m sure you can manage. It’s been a long day for you.’
Elenor stifled a yawn and helped herself to a plate of food.
‘I will sleep well tonight. Mind you, the journey was nothing like the hard work I usually have every day. I’m not used to sitting around all day, and if my aunt wants me to read to her for hours, well, I fear for my sanity.’
Victoria burst out laughing.
‘I can’t imagine your aunt having the patience to sit and listen. She will probably have you writing letters. She gets violent head pains and her eyes are not as strong as they once were. My husband used to write for her, but he is not always available.’
Shaking her head, Elenor pulled a face.
‘My handwriting isn’t the neatest. She might ask me once, but I very much doubt I’d be asked twice.’
She looked around the kitchen and saw a skipping rope and a wooden top sitting on top of a stool by the back door.
‘Do you have children, Victoria?’ she asked, pointing to the toys.
‘Yes. A daughter. Rose.’
‘Rose. A pretty name. How old is she?’
‘Five in November.’
‘How wonderful, a little girl. I take it she’s asleep, I look forward to meeting her tomorrow.’
‘She’ll be no bother. I keep her busy. I can’t have the girl running around making a nuisance of herself,’ Victoria said as she cleared away dishes.
Tiredness crept in and Elenor stretched out and gave a yawn.
‘Thank you for supper, Victoria. I look forward to meeting your family. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Elenor. I’ll give you a knock in the morning.’
Victoria put the dirty dishes in the sink.
Elenor smiled as she recalled the dishes in the sink at Tre Lodhen. No doubt that evening the inn enjoyed a visit from two miserable brothers.
A good night’s sleep and no pre-dawn work found Elenor in good spirits. She pulled open the drab brown curtains to let in a hint of sunshine. The rays bounced into the room and offered up an orange glow but failed to fight the drab brown and black.
The view was south-facing into the avenue with a row of trees on both sides. Her surroundings in Cornwall were far more attractive and a pang of homesickness caught hold. A tap at her door interrupted her thoughts and she opened the door to Victoria who stood holding a tray bearing a pot of tea and a china cup.
‘Morning, Victoria.’
‘Morning. Your aunt will be ready in half an hour.’ She placed the tray onto the dressing table and wiped her hands down her pale blue pinafore.
‘The bathroom is free. There is plenty of hot water.’
‘Thank you.’
Grateful