“And what do you know of such things?” Mrs. Wells snapped. “It’s not your place to tell the mistress how to manage the household.”
“Neither is it yours,” Ralph replied.
Mrs. Wells’s lips thinned.
“I think it’s time you got on with your work,” she said. “The mistress doesn’t want to hear any of your nonsense.”
“But…”
“Ralph,” Mrs. Brown interrupted, wiping her hands on her apron. “Why don’t you help me with the logs? This fire’s almost out, and I need someone strong to carry them.”
He hesitated, and Mrs. Wells folded her arms. “Do as you’re told,” she said.
“Of course.” He cast a quick smile at Meggie, then followed the cook out of the kitchen.
Mrs. Wells sat beside Meggie.
“My dear,” she said. “Permit me to be so bold, but I must caution you.”
“In what manner?”
“It simply won’t do for the mistress of the house to spend so much time downstairs.”
“I thought you were happy for me to teach your children,” Meggie said.
“Of course I am, but the lady of the manor should spend her time in the main house. I didn’t want to press the matter before because I felt you needed time to settle in. But you must assume your responsibilities eventually. Your husband would expect it.”
“My husband is not here.”
The housekeeper raised her eyebrows.
Meggie had been at Molineux Manor for almost a month, and he’d not even written to her. Had he cast her from his mind to make room for others?
“Forgive me,” Meggie said, “I spoke out of turn. But my husband might not take kindly to my incurring expenses by employing staff we don’t need. I don’t want to give him cause to…” she hesitated and felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
…to be angry.
“The master wouldn’t oppose an increase in the staff,” Mrs. Wells said. “He’ll understand the need for it.”
Meggie shook her head. “But I don’t understand.”
“When it comes to the running of an estate such as this, one must consider every possibility, rather than the direct impact of a single decision,” the housekeeper said.
“And employing more staff in the house will help?” Meggie asked.
“Yes, it will.” Mrs. Wells gestured toward the kitchen door. “Do you think it’s Mrs. Brown’s job to bring in the firewood? Or Ralph’s, for that matter? By undertaking tasks to which she’s not suited, she might be rendered incapable of performing her duties. If we can employ a young lad to fetch and carry, then not only have we benefited Mrs. Brown, but we give him gainful employment.”
“So, we can benefit a young man?”
The housekeeper smiled indulgently. “Not just one man, Mrs. Hart, but the whole estate. By employing a full staff, we are giving work to many men—and women—enabling them to feed themselves and their families. More tenants will come to the estate, and it will prosper. A farmer can afford to live here and tend to the land if his sisters are employed in the house. And if his land prospers, it yields rent for the estate, and produces to benefit everyone.”
“And I must manage all that myself?”
“Lord, no!” the housekeeper laughed good-naturedly. “Your place is to direct. I can manage the household, and we’ll leave the rest of the estate to Mr. Billings, the steward. The purpose of the lady of the manor—and the lord, for that matter—is to tend to the people.”
“I didn’t realize,” Meggie said. “I always thought…” she broke off, embarrassed.
“You thought ladies merely sat in their parlor and looked down on the rest of the world? Doubtless, there are some who neglect their duty, which is why so many estates hereabouts are failing. But, if you look at the prosperous estates—such as Radley Hall, Earl Stiles’s seat—you’ll notice that the principal inhabitants rule with benevolence, rather than tyranny.”
She gave Meggie’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “You have the character and temperament to take care of every living soul on this estate, Mrs. Hart. All you need do is learn how all the pieces in an estate can work together.”
Understanding flickered in Meggie’s mind. “Such as in a game of chess?” she asked.
“If you say so, ma’am,” the housekeeper said. “I know nothing about the game.”
“In chess, a player has many pieces. She shouldn’t consider each piece in isolation. She must look at the board in its entirety and plan several steps to form a strategy to deal with every eventuality.”
“Then you understand,” Mrs. Wells said. “And I’ll be here to help you. I’d suggest, as a first step, you spend your time in the main house. You could start small—perhaps open up a suite of rooms. This is your home, and it belongs to you—not the other way round. You mustn’t be afraid of it.”
The housekeeper was no fool. She understood Meggie’s fears.
“I’d also caution you not to take too much direction from the servants,” Mrs. Wells continued. “Your role is to take care of them, not be instructed by them.”
Mrs. Wells was right. If Meggie could consider herself as a caretaker of the souls who depended on her, rather than a superior being, then she could find fulfillment in her role as the mistress. Perhaps that would provide consolation for the lack of satisfaction in her role as a wife.
The cook appeared, followed by Ralph, brandishing a basket full of logs. The young maid, Milly, trotted behind him like a lovesick puppy.
“Milly, love, help me with these plates,” Mrs. Brown said. “They’ve been soaking all day and should come up nice and clean, now.”
“Yes, Mrs. Brown,” came the reply. “Ralph, would you help me?” She turned wide expressive eyes at the groom, but he ignored her, set the basket on the floor beside the fireplace, then turned to Meggie.
“Mrs. Hart,” he said, “it’s time for your riding lesson. It looks like it’ll rain soon, so it’s best if you come now.
Mrs. Wells raised an eyebrow and gave Meggie a pointed look.
“No, thank you, Ralph,” Meggie replied. “I’ve neglected my duties upstairs for too long.”
His smile slipped, but Mrs. Wells nodded encouragement, then exited the kitchen.
“Perhaps tomorrow, if I have time,” Meggie continued.
“It would be my pleasure,” Ralph replied.
Now it was Milly’s turn to scowl, though Meggie recognized it for what it was. Simple jealousy.
“You’re becoming quite the proficient,” he continued. “I think tomorrow we can try mounting unaided, now that you’re used to the saddle.”
Meggie laughed. Her first riding lesson had revealed her ignorance when Ralph had presented her with a peculiarly shaped saddle designed for ladies. Having only seen gentleman riders at Blackwood Heath, she’d assumed ladies rode in the same fashion.
“I still think riding astride would be more comfortable,” she said.
“I prefer it myself when a woman straddles her mount properly.” His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, she thought she saw hunger in them.