‘What is it?’ He had no patience with Bridget’s gabbling; the girl was a constant irritation to him, but thankfully it was Mary who mostly dealt with the servants.
‘It’s her, sir. The – the lady who’s in with the mistress. She says . . .’ Here Bridget’s speech seemed to fail her and she gaped at him for a moment, before continuing, ‘She says she’s your sister, come to visit, sir.’
Jeremiah’s sharp ears didn’t miss the infinitesimal pause. He stared into the earnest rosy-cheeked face, his mind racing. Esther? Esther had come home? But it had been fifteen years and no word. Not that he, or his parents before they had passed away, had wanted one, not after the note she had left saying she intended to go on the stage. They had told no one of that, of course. His father had let it be known that his daughter had gone abroad for her health, and after a suitable time had intimated that she had decided to live permanently in warmer climes.
Becoming aware that Bridget was waiting for him to speak, he pulled himself together. ‘I see.’ He glanced at the silver hot-water jug which had been part of the fine tea set the bishop had bought the happy couple as a wedding gift. ‘Take that into your mistress and tell her I’ll be along shortly.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Bridget seemed glad her duty was done, whirling round and scampering across the polished tiles to the drawing room even before he had finished speaking.
The drawing room and morning room were on the ground floor of the vicarage. The first floor was taken up with the dining room, Jeremiah’s study and the children’s schoolroom. The top floor consisted of six bedrooms, with a less grand and space-consuming staircase than that which connected the ground and first floor.
Jeremiah had visited more lavish premises when calling on clergy friends, but also many less spacious, and overall he was pleased at the accident of birth which had destined him to live in the vicarage after his parents had died. When they had been alive the morning room had been the dining room, and his mother’s sewing room had occupied the present dining room on the first floor. On entering the house, Mary had immediately declared that an informal sitting room on the ground floor was essential. His position dictated a morning room where Jeremiah could see parishioners in private, or she could receive women friends who called for morning refreshments. He hadn’t argued. And so their meals had to come up one flight of stairs and be kept hot, which involved placing serving dishes in scalding water and perfect timing when a dinner party was in progress. But that was Kitty and Bridget’s problem. Servants were readily available, and could usually be replaced without difficulty if they failed to meet the required standards.
Jeremiah eased his starched clerical collar and smoothed the strands of sparse ginger hair either side of his head before looking towards the drawing-room door. He felt no excitement at the prospect of his sister’s return, merely anxiety. Esther had been a wayward child, given to flights of fancy and extreme precociousness, and as she had grown, so had her brashness. She had run rings round their mother, and her boldness with his friends had caused him much embarrassment. She had possessed none of the modest virtues appropriate for the daughter of a well-to-do vicar, and had stated quite emphatically that she had no intention of becoming the decorative wife of a boring provincial husband but would follow her own star. He had put much of her prattle down to her youth, but when she had skedaddled at the tender age of fifteen it hadn’t come as much of a surprise to him, although their parents had been mortified.
His brows drew together. And now the black sheep of the family was sitting in the drawing room with his wife, who knew nothing of the true circumstances surrounding Esther. He had been too ashamed to tell Mary the truth. The door to the drawing room opened and Bridget re-emerged, the girl’s expression changing to one of wariness as she saw him still standing there. He beckoned her over with a crooked finger and when she was standing in front of him, said tersely, ‘The children? Where are they?’
‘Me da’s lookin’ after ’em in the schoolroom for the present, sir. The mistress said for me to go and take over once I’d served tea.’
‘And have you served tea?’
‘Aye. I mean yes, sir. I have.’
‘Then go and do what your mistress told you.’
Jeremiah waited until Bridget had disappeared upstairs before walking across the hall. He opened the drawing-room door with a flourish and stepped inside.
Chapter 2