Page 2 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

‘Will people really talk when he’s not here for Christmas?’ she asked.

‘Can’t think why they should,’ he said. ‘In his position he can do whatever he wants. Of course, people would generally prefer an earl to go in for the traditional sins: loose women and high-stakes gambling, like my father – who was much admired, by the by. But if old Giles can’t quite rise to full-blooded vice, embracing eccentricity is the next best thing. The only really shocking thing would be for him to behave with Victorian propriety.’

‘You’re talking nonsense to cheer me up,’ Kitty said, beginning to smile.

He gave her a look of shining innocence. ‘Not a bit! Look at our dear old King Teddy. Thoroughly naughty before he came to the throne, and everyone loves him for it. They wouldn’t feel the same about him at all if he had comported himself like a respectable bank clerk from Sidcup. Now, what we must do is dedicate ourselves to the cause of cheering you up. We should throw the most tremendous Christmas ball.’

‘A ball? Really?’

‘Really! Let’s see . . . It should be on the Saturday before Christmas. The nineteenth.’

‘But that’s so close – everyone will already be engaged.’

‘They’ll cancel, for a ball at Ashmore Castle,’ he said confidently. ‘We’ll ask a dozen people to stay for it, and give them a shoot on the Sunday. I’ll arrange that part of it with Adeane and Saddler. And invite everyone in the neighbourhood for the dancing.’ He looked around. ‘You must have paper and ink here. Yes, fetch them, then, and we’ll start making lists. Then you can talk to Mrs Webster while I go and see Adeane.’

‘I’m so glad I bought new mattresses for all the beds,’ she said, crossing the room to her escritoire.

‘The mattresses are the essential element,’ he assured her. ‘It’s what people will principally come for.’

She smiled. ‘You’re absurd.‘

Mrs Terry had been cook at Ashmore Castle for only seven months. She had been just plain Ida, the head kitchen-maid, under the previous cook, Mrs Oxlea. But after Mrs Oxlea’s shocking death, she’d had to take over on an emergency basis. She had been doing a lot of the work anyway – Mrs Oxlea had been a drinker – and she’d long had ambitions. When Mrs Webster, the housekeeper, had relayed the mistress’s enquiry as to whether she would like the post permanently, she’d been glad and grateful.

Everyone seemed to think she had done pretty well. But there had not been any major entertaining until now. A ball! And people to stay for it as well! It was a completely new challenge.

Mrs Webster had come straight to see her, before the plan had been officially announced. The news had reached her in the usual roundabout but effective way: Richard had gone from Kitty to see Uncle Sebastian, who had been in his room. Sebastian’s valet Crooks had been bumbling about in the background so could hardly help overhearing, and Crooks had lost no time in telling Mrs Webster.

Mrs Webster had no doubts about her own ability to cope, but she realised that Ida would need encouragement. ‘The mistress will send for you, and of course you must pretend it’s all news to you, but it will be a good thing to have your plans ready, so that you can seem calm and confident.’

Ida was not calm and confident yet. ‘A dozen people to stay! Plus the family.’

‘Plus their servants, don’t forget. It’s a lot extra, but Brigid and Aggie can do the cooking for the servants’ hall. Don’t worry about that.’

‘What do people have at a ball? Isn’t there always a supper?’

‘A buffet,’ Mrs Webster said. ‘You can make most of it ahead of time. Lobster and oyster patties, bouchées à la reine, that sort of thing. A glazed ham. A cold sirloin for the gentlemen. Soft rolls—’

‘When will I have time to make those?’

‘Buy them in,’ Mrs Webster said briskly. ‘Toller’s in the village can supply them, and nobody will know the difference.’

‘If you think it’s all right . . . What else?’

‘Fruit. Whatever you can get at this time of year – the arrangement is everything. And some kind of sweet. A coffee blancmange, perhaps. You can make that ahead, too. We’ve got a lot of little glass custard cups somewhere – it’d look pretty in those. And then white soup for the end of the ball.’

‘And there’ll be a dinner before the ball, I suppose?’

‘They won’t want too much before dancing. Four or five courses, and you can keep it simple. Then there’ll be the shooting luncheon on Sunday, and dinner on Sunday night.’

‘And breakfasts.’ Ida put her hands to her cheeks, contemplating the mountains of food she must prepare. Her voice wavered. ‘However will we manage? Oh, Mrs Webster!’

‘You said you wanted the job,’ Webster said briskly. ‘Now here it is. You’ll need more girls, that’s obvious, but the mistress has already said I can hire anyone we need, and that includes in the kitchen. Brace up, Mrs Terry. You don’t have to cook every single thing yourself, you know. You’ll be like a general at a battle, giving orders to the troops. Of course,’ she added slyly, half turning away, ‘if you really don’t think you’re up to it . . .’

‘Oh, I’m up to it all right,’ Ida said quickly. ‘Don’t you worry about that. I’m going to be the best cook of any big house in the country! They’ll talk about me in years to come. I’ll be famous – Mrs Terry of Ashmore Castle, they’ll say. And when I’m old I’ll write my own book, like Mrs Beeton, and everyone’ll go to it for reference.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Mrs Webster said.

The old schoolroom at the top of the house, which was now a sitting-room for the young ladies, was pleasantly warm. Since Kitty had taken over the direction of the house, there had always been a fire lit for them – unlike the days of economy under their mother.