Page 18 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
And that, Gregory reflected, truly said something of the Bellamy Hall stable, given that Melton was familiar with several Cynster stables, including the racing stable in Newmarket. “Clearly, I’ll need to spend more time in the stable and find out about these carriage works.”
“The head stableman, Jenkins, is in charge of the carriage works as well as the stable, and Henry Kirk is the blacksmith.”
Gregory tucked away the information. The carriage works and forge must be two of the businesses he’d yet to hear about. Caitlin had mentioned there were fifteen in all; if he counted the painters as one entity, then thus far, he’d heard reports from six. His quest to learn all about everything at the Hall plainly had some way to run.
He glanced at Snibbs. “Anything else?” He didn’t want to specifically ask about Miss Fergusson.
“Just that the whole runs remarkably smoothly, and apparently, the chatelaine is well-liked by all. They quite look up to her, all of them, even though she’s so young.”
“You’ve met her?”
“No, but I saw her when she came to the kitchen to consult with the cook.” Snibbs shot a grin Gregory’s way. “Seems they were all wanting to make your first dinner here as the new owner extra special.”
“They achieved that and more. Everything was delicious without being overdone.” Although Gregory’s curiosity over Caitlin Fergusson was driven by an interest far from innocent, a point he intended to keep to himself, he nevertheless asked as airily as he could, “Anything more I should know about the chatelaine?”
He couldn’t understand why she so captivated him. Yes, she was attractive, but he’d bedded more beautiful ladies through his years of prowling through the ton, and he’d never felt this degree of attraction to them. There was something about her—something compelling he couldn’t put his finger on—that got under his skin and itched. The itch was familiar, one he recognized all too well, but he was at a loss as to why the compulsion was so very intense.
A knowing smirk twisted Snibbs’s lips. “I thought you’d want to know about her, but all I’ve got is that she’s been here since January ’49 when, with her maid and groom, she got caught in a blizzard, and they were forced to seek shelter here. Apparently, she and Mrs. Timms got on like a house afire, and Mrs. Timms begged her to stay, and she agreed. She’s well-born, like Mrs. Timms was, and as I said, the staff adore her.” He paused, considering, then went on, “And ‘adore’ is not too strong a word. I won’t be making any unflattering comments about Miss C, as they call her.”
Gregory sat back and considered the information. Being possessed of a maid and groom confirmed beyond question that, at the very least, Caitlin Fergusson was upper gentry. But why had she—especially given her age and physical attractiveness—been rambling about the countryside with just a maid and groom?
And with nowhere to go, given she’d so readily accepted Timms’s invitation and no one had come to fetch her away.
Indeed, he had to wonder what had moved Timms to extend that invitation. He would wager she, at least, had known Caitlin Fergusson’s story—all of it. He could readily imagine a strong bond forming between Timms and the younger lady. The pair shared obvious attributes, chief among which was being intensely practical females.
Thinking further, he could imagine that being Timms’s protégée explained Caitlin’s ready control over the staff and their devotion to her. But the residents?
That was more difficult to understand.
“Anything else?” he asked.
Snibbs made a show of trawling through his memories, but ended shaking his head.
Gregory dismissed him with a wave. “But let me know if you or Melton hear anything that strikes you as odd or unusual.”
“Will do.” Snibbs executed a perfectly gauged bow and departed.
Gregory sat for a while longer, letting his mind digest what he’d learned, then he rose and got ready for bed.
After turning out the lamp, pleased to discover the bed was soft and comfortable, he slumped beneath the covers, closed his eyes, and considered his overall reaction to all he’d learned about Bellamy Hall.
The truth was he was more engaged, intrigued, and interested than he’d expected to be over the prospects he’d uncovered thus far…and if Bellamy Hall was to be his future, that was no bad thing.
Chapter 3
Gregory woke after a sound and refreshing night’s sleep, and after summoning Snibbs and plying his razor, he dressed and made his way downstairs.
He went to the breakfast parlor, only to discover that, even though it was barely eight-thirty, most of the household had been and gone before him. Clearly, those who resided at the Hall didn’t waste time lolling abed but were out about their business at a commendable hour.
While he ate in solitary splendor, he considered his quest to learn more about the Hall, but decided that his first act had to be to visit Minnie’s and Timms’s graves. He knew where Minnie was buried and was certain Timms would have been laid to rest close by. Consequently, after quitting the parlor, he made his way out of the south door and, thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets, strolled toward the ruins of Coldchurch Abbey.
The Hall itself was built over part of the original ruins thought to have been the gatehouse, and the lawn to the south of the house hosted several large and weathered standing stones that might once have been a section of a cloister.
Ahead, beyond a low hill, the single remaining arch of the abbey’s church rose, wrapped in ghostly streamers of mist that had risen off the nearby river to wreathe the grounds south of the house.
The February morning was chilly and damp, and the skies were sufficiently overcast that it seemed unlikely the sun would break through and dispel the mist anytime soon. At least there was no wind to slice through coats and slide icy fingers past collars.
Under the terms of her will, Minnie had been buried in the old abbey burial ground alongside her late husband, Sir Humphrey Bellamy. Bellamy Hall had been his childhood home, and he’d loved the place with a passion. As had Minnie, and Timms had been equally devoted.
