Chapter 14
Lord Ware did not linger for much longer since, as he said, he feared that he would be interrupting the ladies as they made ready for the journey into the Midlands. Having thanked them for their hospitality, asked to be remembered to everyone at Sale Park and wishing them well on the journey north, he allowed himself to be assisted into his carriage and, with a wave, disappeared along the street.
“I think,” Said Miss Leighton woodenly to Madame, I shall retire to my chamber. I have the headache.”
“Will you my dear,” Madame answered, “perhaps I shall see you at dinner.”
Madame was to be disappointed. Sarah did not come downstairs again that day and, when she appeared at breakfast on the following day looking very heavy eyed, she seemed disinclined to make conversation. After the Duke had spoken to her a couple of times and received only monosyllabic answers he gave up and talked to Madame instead. Madame disclosed that they had received Gideon in his absence on the previous day and that following his visit, Mademoiselle had retired with a headache,
“I am not surprised Madame,” The Duke said sympathetically. “I like him very much, he is the best of fellows, but even I have to admit, to the uninitiated, a morsel of my cousin’s very bracing personality can constitute a surfeit.” Nothing more was said and, as soon as the table had been cleared the Duke and his party set off for the Midlands.
It had previously been agreed that they would cover the distance, some one hundred and thirty miles or so, in two days, there being no reason for adopting the leisurely pace of the journey through France. The intention was to complete the journey by no later than mid-afternoon on the following day. The Duke thus had very little time to talk to the ladies. At the end of the first day they were too tired to do anything more than retire straight to bed and on the second they were under way again at a very early hour. If the Duke noticed that Miss Leighton was less than her usual robust self he put this down to the pace of travel and the lingering effects of her headache from the last day in London. Upon speaking to Martha, he was told that he should not be concerned, it was doubtless the thought of arriving home after such a journey.
At about two o’clock on the second day, the party arrived at the large gates of Sale Park which the elderly Lodge keeper, who had remained in post even though the house had been closed up, was overjoyed to throw open at the return of his master. As Borden was only a matter of five miles or so further by road (and a lot less as the crow flies) the Duke planned, after a brief stop in his to escort Miss Leighton to Borden himself. While he was away the servants could deal with the baggage undertake such preparations as might be necessary to render a few bedrooms ready for occupation and to assess what work needed to be done first.
To some extent, the house had already been prepared to receive the Duke although with little style. Mr. and Mrs Saddler remained in London but upon learning that the Duke intended to reopen Sale Park, Mr. Saddler, already making himself indispensable, had written to the caretaker and his wife informing them of the Duke’s imminent return. The house had been shut up for more than four years and had been little used for three years before that, but the grounds were still tended a little and there were sufficient staff still engaged, together with assorted wives, sons and daughters hastily summoned from the village, to make a start upon waking the house from its long sleep. Moreover, Mrs Bridgehouse, the Duke’s old housekeeper, now a pensioner for a number of years, still lived nearby and was tempted by the thought of Sale Park once again becoming his Grace’s principal home into taking up the reins of management again if only for a short time.
The Duke was surprised at the wave of emotion that rolled over him upon entering the great house. There was an immediate feeling of being ‘home’ and his familiarity with the surroundings immediately made him more comfortable than he had ever thought to be again in any of his houses. He was as delighted to see Mrs Bridgehouse as she was to see him and, if the house was still largely shrouded in Holland covers, well, that would soon be remedied. He introduced Madame to the elderly housekeeper and was just about to do the same for Miss Leighton when that lady spoke up for herself.
“Can I get my apron Mrs. Bridgehouse?” She said, producing the first smile in three days and waiting expectantly for an answer.
“I beg your pardon Miss?” The housekeeper’s reply was genuinely confused. Then, something in Sarah’s smile and the words she used touched a memory. “Miss Sarah!” she exclaimed, “well, look at you now. You came in the front door.” Mrs Bridgehouse glance summed up Sarah’s tiny, but beautifully dressed frame, and finished trenchantly, “and about time too.”
Mrs Bridgehouse bustled exceedingly and in a very short time the party was served with tea and cakes. Meanwhile Véronique was taking the opportunity to view the Duke’s home and, while she was exceedingly impressed by its imposing grandeur, she kept clicking her teeth and shaking her head at the dirty windows, the undisturbed dust and the evidence of years of neglect. In common with most of the party, she had formed her own opinion as to the state of the relationship between her mistress and the Duke and, as she was fairly convinced it would not be long before Miss Leighton moved to Sale Park permanently, she decided that someone needed to take charge of setting things right. That someone would be her.
Ebullient she was, but she neither lacked tact nor did she make the mistake of thinking that she knew anything like enough to run a great house like Sale Park. Cleaning a few rooms in an inn was one thing, dealing with walls covered with paintings, enormous chandeliers and ancient items of furniture was something else entirely. Making her way along the labyrinthine passages which led to the Kitchen she found Mrs Bridgehouse struggling with inadequate and inexperienced staff in a vain attempt to ensure, as she saw it, the minimum standard that the Duke of Sale had a right to expect. Having made determined efforts to learn English on the long journey, she introduced herself and very rapidly the two servants established a common bond. Veronique’s enthusiasm and obvious energy reminded Mrs Bridgehouse of herself when she had first come to the house many years ago and, despite her youth, she showed the knowledge of a much older woman. She was also kindly disposed to anyone who had gained the approval of the Duke as she was convinced that without proper care he would inevitably waste away.
There was another matter, while she had enjoyed returning to her old duties she knew she could not resume them on a permanent basis. She no longer had the energy to do so. As she did not trust anyone else to oversee the work that she, as well as anyone, knew needed to be done she had been considering what to do. Véronique therefore seemed heaven sent. For her part Véronique had been taught to respect her elders and she quickly recognised the older woman’s superior knowledge and experience. When Mrs Bridgehouse talked of restoring Sale Park to its former glory, this was an ambition she could appreciate. When she sighed and said that in her day even the laundry cupboards had to be inspected once a week and woe betide the Laundry maid that had stacked the sheets untidily, Véronique recognised, in Mrs Bridgehouse, a woman who lived up to her own fanatical standards. Within ten minutes it had been agreed, providing the Duke approved, Véronique would remain at Sale Park and would, under the supervision of Mrs Bridgehouse, bring the house back to life.
The Duke was therefore somewhat surprised when his housekeeper and Véronique asked to see him. He was even more surprised to hear the proposal as he knew how jealously Mrs Bridgehouse had guarded her role. But, despite his surprise, it was apparent that the two women were perfectly serious. He explained doubtfully that he would have to consult with Madame and Miss Leighton but here he encountered no objection either. Miss Leighton had been racking her brains to try to come up with a scheme to avoid taking Véronique to Borden. Where Mrs Bridgehouse was a delightful perfectionist, the Viscount’s Butler, a superior, curmudgeonly and self-important individual, would, having managed for years with Miss Leighton fulfilling the role of housekeeper, undoubtedly bitterly resent the younger woman. In her present state
of mind, domestic war was not something she thought she could easily tolerate. As soon as Véronique was told she was to remain at Sale Park she produced her apron, trapped a hapless girl brought up from the Village to assist with whatever work might be required and started, under the approving eye of Mrs Bridgehouse, hounding her to start the formidable task of cleaning the whole house.
Two hours later Miss Leighton returned home to Borden House in the company of Madame. Upon the carriage arriving at the front door they were greeted by the butler whose greeting suggested anything but enthusiasm at the return of Miss Leighton and the Viscount’s Aunt by marriage. Had he not been in service with the family for so many years he might have found that his lack of courtesy resulted in him being turned off but he was secure and he knew it. He had received explicit instructions from his master by post and not by a flicker of his eye did he betray that he had ever met Miss Leighton before, though he had known her almost from her cradle. The lengthy missive he had received some two weeks earlier from his employer explaining the situation, had warned him to ensure every member of the household understood the position. No-one, from the scullery maid to the Butler himself, was in any doubt that if the smallest morsel of gossip could be traced to the house, long service notwithstanding, the entire staff could expect to be dismissed without a character.
The Duke remained long enough to see that the Ladies’ baggage was removed from the carriages and the ladies were safely installed at Borden House before leaving them with a promise to return as soon as he was able.
In the event it was several days before the Duke found the time to make good on this promise. Although Sale Park had been closed as thoroughly and carefully as possible the years of neglect and inactivity had taken their toll. There were no horses in the Duke’s stable and his carriages needed repair or, in some cases, even replacement. A wheelwright had to be sent for together with a blacksmith. In the Duke’s youth, these individuals were permanently (and fully) employed upon the estate. Although the gardens had been tended, many of the paths were overgrown, some of the drainage on the south lawn had become blocked and the large wisteria on the south-east corner of the building had become so unruly that no light could filter through the windows behind it. Several trees close to the west wing were in a sorry state and needed either to be drastically reduced in size or in some cases cut down altogether as it was felt they might fall onto the house.
Inside the house things were little better. Véronique quickly identified that there was work which needed to be carried out as a matter of urgency. Some of the servants' quarters had suffered because of a leaking roof and there were several broken window panes. There were loose and rotten floorboards in one of the passages. Doors had warped and did not fit. Locks were seized. Several of the chimneys were blocked. Many of the windows were ill fitting and let in the weather or were so distorted that they could not be opened. She set tradesmen, hurriedly summoned from miles around to work and within two days the whole house was a hive of activity echoing with the sounds of tradesmen at work.
Satisfied that the necessary repairs were underway, she turned her attention upon the interiors. She examined every room in turn with Mrs Bridgehouse. All the portaits of the Duke’s ancestors and the paintings previous generations of the Duke’s family had collected had to be taken down and dusted. Several frames needed urgent repair. In many of the rooms the carpets, drapes and furnishings had been affected by damp or simply old age and a decision had to be made as to whether they were salvageable or should be thrown out.
The Duke was everywhere taking an interest. Although he had to approve any expenditure, his interest went far beyond that. He sought explanations of any work which was identifies as required and then watched the tradesmen appointed to carry it out. He wanted to understand what needed to be done in order to restore his house and he wanted to be involved in it. He was interested in every repair and took note of each task that needed to be done to transfer a drab, ill lit musty room back to its former splendour even on occasions seeking instruction and lending a helping hand. The workmen and household staff found it strange at first, to see the Duke watching them work, or stripped to his shirt hauling on a heavy item of furniture or manhandling a painting but, after the initial discomfort of discovering that their noble employer was watching what they were doing, the staff became used to seeing him and answered his questions readily. It helped that he never forgot to thank them for their efforts on his behalf. The Duke realised, somewhat guiltily, that he had always taken the house he lived in for granted and had never really thought about the work involved in looking after him. He had no idea of the range of skills and knowledge required to keep the house in order.
On the third day after his return he walked into the state dining room to discover that the cleaning effort had moved here. It was a vast room with an extremely high ceiling, richly painted and decorated and supported by heavily carved beams which stretched across the whole span of the room. Here again there was feverish activity. When he entered Véronique, having learned what was required from Mrs Bridgehouse was superintending the dismantling and cleaning of the three chandeliers which hung on long chains from the ceiling. He was initially stunned to discover that she expected this work alone would take no less than two days although having seen the number of individual pieces he then developed some doubt that the work could be done in even this time. Every picture had been removed from the walls, the carpets and drapes sent for cleaning and every surface was being scrubbed, dusted or polished. Even the State table which, as far as the Duke could remember had never been moved from its position in the centre of the floor had been dismantled and taken to a local cabinet maker for cleaning and minor repairs.
The pace of work nearly led to disaster. Two men had been drafted in to clean the higher parts of the room, only reachable from very long ladders which the Duke saw were more commonly used in the orchards during harvest. The ladders had been leant up against the beams spanning the room. Suddenly there was a shout of warning, and everybody scattered as one of the heavy ladders slid majestically sideways and crashed to the floor. The workman who, until a few seconds earlier, had been standing on the top of it was now seen to be dangling from the beam with his legs waving aimlessly, and rather comically, twenty feet above the floor. He had, rather than move his ladder, leaned a little too far off it and had pushed it over. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to hold on to the beam he had been cleaning. The ladder was soon replaced and a shaken worker returned to the ground. Having satisfied himself that the man was unhurt, the Duke made his feelings plain. Thereafter everyone knew that speed was less important than safety.
In the Kitchen, many of the cooking pots were found to have been damaged and the great range had rusted and needed to be completely dismantled. It was found, upon inspection to be damaged beyond repair as the huge copper which provided hot water had sprung a leak, in addition, there were large cracks in the cast iron shell. A replacement had to be ordered from the manufacturer in nearby Coalbrookdale and until it was delivered the house had to survive on food brought in from the inn in the Village. A great deal of the household linen had become damp and, as the mould stains could not be removed no matter how many times they were boiled they needed replacement. That which could be salvaged needed washing and for the first time in years the laundry had a full complement of staff.
In the brewery, repairs were underway and it was thought it would not be long before the estate was producing its own ales again. Francis, in between managing the Duke’s wardrobe had taken one look in the gun room and commenced dismantling and cleaning the Duke’s guns. Some were found to be so corroded as to require the services of a gunsmith. The Duke’s silverware had been properly stored away and it had not become tarnished but even so it had lost some of its shine and all needed to be re-polished. Every single window in the house was dirty both inside and out. Cleaning them was a herculean task, not least because many of the windows on the ground floor were sixteen feet h
igh.
In the process of carrying out this work it was discovered that there were more windows on the outside of the building on the second floor than there were on the inside. The mystery was solved when, on breaking through an internal wall from what had been the bedchamber occupied by the current Duke’s great Grandfather, they discovered a boarded-up room. They concluded that the Duke’s ancestor had concluded that he needed a larger dressing room and had, many years previously, expanded into the suite of rooms next door. The part that he did not need he simply walled up leaving the contents, including furniture, some beautiful Coalport China and a couple of bookshelves containing ancient illuminated manuscripts, walled up inside.
There was one matter which caused much comment below stairs. The Duke would agree to repairs, and cleaning and he agreed to the purchase of essential supplies but he would not allow any redecoration. No new carpets were to be purchased and if the drapes in a room were beyond repair then the room stood with no drapes. It was to be inferred that the Duke was shortly to be making a change in his situation as redecoration was the province of the lady of the house. This, not unnaturally cased some speculation. The fact that there might, after so many years, be a Duchess in residence at Sale Park was a matter of some interest for miles around.
There were, among the staff those who could have enlightened the curious, but they held their own counsel.
It was therefore more than a week after the Duke had returned home that he rode over to Borden House. He had of course sent over a note explaining that he had found rather more work than he had anticipated but in any event the Ladies were kept well up to date with developments. Francis endeavoured to spend some time every day with Martha and as some of the people occasionally employed at Borden were also now also busy at Sale and were anxious to talk about the changes the Duke had thus far wrought, the ladies received a fair impression of what had been happening.
Upon arrival the Duke requested, and was granted, an audience alone with Miss Leighton. Sarah had been dreading this interview but she knew that it would have to be faced sometime and she was never one to put off an unpleasant task. She had struggled with her conscience at length. Sarah cried that she could not give him up and with him her chance for happiness but the prosaic and very sensible Miss Leighton stated firmly that she must. Romantic Sarah was thus ruthlessly caged while Miss Leighton considered how to deal with the Duke. Various options were considered and debated but, in the end, she decided that, as uncomfortable it might be to do so, Miss Leighton would tell the Duke the truth.
It was thus a very composed Miss Leighton who greeted the Duke upon his arrival. She deliberately set her embroidery aside and invited him coolly to be seated. She then looked at him with a look of polite enquiry on her face. The Duke, not unnaturally, was rather put off his stride by this quelling civility and, as he was already somewhat nervous, he had some trouble bringing himself to the point. He had thought that the first time he had proposed marriage was awkward and nerve racking but he realised that in fact it had not been so. His proposal to the Lady Harriet Presteigne had been planned and organised by Lord Lionel and Harriet’s father, Lord Ampleforth, and his answer had thus been a foregone conclusion. It was, concluded the Duke, much more difficult to propose to a lady with whom one was already very much in love, who was independently wealthy to boot and who, as far as he could see, had no special reason to accept him whatsoever.
“Miss Leighton,” said his Grace rather weakly, “as you know I hold you in the greatest regard ...” he ground to a halt as he realised he was hardly sounding like a man madly in love with the lady in front of him. He was about to try again when Miss Leighton intervened.
“Would it help?” she enquired in the tone of one asking after the state of the weather, “if I were to explain that I will not marry you. I have concluded, not without giving the matter considerable thought that, under the circumstances, a marriage would not be in the best interest of either of us.” Miss Leighton had prepared this short speech in her head and rehearsed it many times. In the confines of her bed chamber it sounded fine, but in the drawing room, even to her own ears she sounded pompous and uncaring. The stricken look on the Duke’s face confirmed it.
“But Sarah,” he stood up and stepped forward as if to clasp her to him. As she stepped back to put a chair between them, a frigid look on her face, he caught himself up. “I beg your pardon, Miss Leighton,” he corrected “but why would it not be in our best interests?” He looked at her intently and realised that she was not as composed as she might appear. “Forgive me,” he said searching her face, "but I had thought you were not entirely indifferent to me, and,” he added as afterthought, “I’ll thank you for allowing me to decide what is in my best interests.”
“No, not indifferent,” acknowledged Miss Leighton battling for control with Sarah who was, by this time, screaming to get out, “but nonetheless I cannot, will not, marry you.”
“But my darling,” the Duke said and was rewarded with a flush which he could see his beloved was having difficulty controlling, “what has changed? Am I such a coxcomb that I am wrong to believe you would have accepted me had I asked in London?”
“No,” Miss Leighton rallied her forces for what she hoped was for the last time. “Had you asked then. I would have accepted you gladly even though it would have been wrong for me to do so.” As the Duke opened his mouth to interrupt she forestalled him. “I do perhaps, owe you some explanation. It was Lord Gideon ....”
“I will never forgive him,” the Duke stated grimly. “He has found his happiness how the devil dare he interfere with mine?”
“It was not deliberate; he said something that made me think. He said that the Duke of Sale may look as high as he likes for a wife but if there is any lack of breeding or a ‘sniff of scandal’ then, in his words, ‘it would not do.’ You must agree that there is more than a sniff of scandal and lack of breeding about me.”
“But no-one would know,” said the Duke helplessly.
“We would know,” Miss Leighton bluntly asserted. “It would eat at us like a canker. You would always know that you had made a deplorable misalliance and I, that I would never be good enough. And what if someone did find out? You would be a laughing stock and I should be shunned.” Seeing the Duke’s distress, she finally moved towards him and placed her hand on his arm. Looking up into his eyes Sarah stated, “I’m sorry my dear, I can’t do it to me and I won’t do it to you.”