“No, there isn’t,” she said, keeping her voice calm, especially when she saw the question in his eyes. “Where are the workers?”
They walked down the hall, holding tight to each other, until they came to the door that led belowstairs. Cecilia took a deep breath and opened it. As soon as she did, they heard voices, the soft slap of cards, and some laughter. She took a firmer grip on the boy’s hand, and they walked down the stairs together.
The workers sitting around the table in the servants’ hall looked up when she came into the room. The oldest man—he must have been the foreman—smiled at her. “G’day, miss!” he called, the voice of good cheer. “Are you from that dower house?”
She smiled back, even though she wanted to turn and run. “Yes, indeed. I am a teacher for one of the young ladies, and this is David Chase, Viscount Goodhue.”
The men put down their cards and got to their feet.
“Is my uncle Trevor playing a joke on us?” Davy asked her.
“Let’s ask these men,” she said. “Sir, have you been re-pairing any damage at all?”
The foreman shrugged. “After Lord Trevor sent all the servants off on holiday, we opened up the windows and aired out the place. Watts, over there—perk up, Watts!—cleaned out the pipe behind the Rumford and seated it again, but that’s all the place really needed.” He scratched his head. “His lordship’s a good man, he is. Said he just wanted us to stay here all week, and get paid regular wages.”
“Did he . . . did he tell you why, precisely?” Cecilia asked.
“I don’t usually ask questions like that of the gentry, miss, but he did say something about wanting to keep everyone close together.”
He said as much to me, she thought, hoping that his young relatives would discover each other again, if they were in close quarters. “I can understand that,” she said.
“Yes, mum, that’s what he said,” the foreman told her. “This is our last day on the job.” He laughed and poked the cardplayer sitting next to him. “Guess we’ll have to earn an honest wage next week again!”
The men laughed. The man called Watts spoke up shyly. “ ’E’s made it a happy Christmas for all of us, miss. You, too, I hope.”
“Oh, yes,” Cecilia said, wishing she were a better actress. “Lord Trevor is a regular eccentric who likes a good quiz! Good day to you all, and happy Christmas.”
They were both quiet on the walk back to the dower house, until Davy finally stopped. “Why would he want us to keep close together?”
“He told me that first night, after you were all in bed, that he was worried that you were all growing apart, and were ungrateful for what you had,” she explained. “He had a notion that if you were all together, he could give you what he called a ‘prosy lecture’ about gratitude.” She took his hand, and set him in motion again. “Davy, the people he works with—his clients—are young, and have so little. He helps them all he can, but . . .” But I don’t quite understand this, she thought to herself. He does so much good! Why is he so unhappy?
The dower house was still silent when they came inside, but the odors from the kitchen were not to be ignored. Without waiting to stamp off the snow upstairs, she and Davy went down to the kitchen, where his sisters were rolling dough on the marble slab. She watched them a moment, their heads together, laughing. Nothing wrong here, she thought. She looked at Davy, who was reaching for a buttery shortbread.
She noticed that Mrs. Grey was watching her, and she took the housekeeper aside. “Mrs. Grey, there’s nothing going on at the manor. Do you know why Lord Trevor is doing this?”
“You weren’t to know,” the woman declared.
The room was quiet, and she knew the children were listening. The frown was back on Davy’s face, and his sisters just looked mystified. “Uncle Trevor’s been fooling us,” Davy said. “There’s nothing wrong with our home.”
It took a moment to sink in, then Lady Janet sat down suddenly. “We . . . we could have had the Christmas entertainment? And Lysander could have come?”
“I think so, Lady Janet,” Cecilia said. “He said he wanted everyone here in close quarters so you could all appreciate each other again.” She reached out and touched Lucinda’s arm. “But I don’t think there ever really was a problem.” She smiled at Janet. “Well, maybe a word or two in the right ear was necessary, but that was a small thing.”
“I know I’m glad to be here now,” Lucinda said. She put her arm around her sister, then tightened her grip as her face grew serious. “I told Uncle Trevor that very thing this morning, but I’m not sure he heard me.”