Page 16 of To Winter at Wildsyde

To Ruth’s astonishment she was enfolded in a hug as brief as it was fierce.

“Now, then, Mrs Anderson,” he said, and his voice was an odd mixture of stern affection and understanding as he straightened up. “Don’t let them see.”

Ruth nodded, taking his meaning at once as she wiped her eyes and composed herself.

“No. No, of course not, Garrick. I was only overcome for a moment because… oh, how good it is to see you, but why are you here? I thought you would send staff… I never expected….”

Garrick gave her a fond smile. “Shall we see to getting them inside and settled? Then I will explain all.”

Ruth nodded, wondering what on earth had got into her. “Oh, what a muddle I’m in, Garrick. You see how desperate I have become? I have quite lost my wits.”

“Nonsense,” he said briskly. “You’re just a little blue devilled and I know anyone else would have run screaming weeks since. You’re a Trojan, Miss… Mrs Anderson. I’ve always known it and I’m not about to change my opinion, but I’m here now and I mean to stay. Between us, we’ll get the place in order in no time.”

On that pleasing note, it appeared that Garrick had arrived. If she hadn’t known it would mortify him and offend his dignity more than the brief hug likely already had, she would have kissed him.

At this moment, Mrs MacLeod—her lackeys in tow—bustled into the hall, bristling with indignation as she set eyes on twelve new members of staff, from footmen to maids, and including as stern a looking housekeeper as Ruth had ever seen.

For the first time since she’d realised Gordy had abandoned her with deliberate intent, Ruth’s hopes rose.

“Mrs MacLeod,” she said, relishing the moment as the first real victory she’d had since Sheenagh and pig incident. “May I introduce you to Garrick, my butler? He will, no doubt, make the rest of the staff known to you. Garrick, may I introduce our cook, Mrs MacLeod.”

Garrick, who had drawn himself up to his full and considerable height, sent a withering look down his long nose at Mrs MacLeod, the kind that any duke would aspire to. He really was a magnificent butler. On the spot, Ruth decided to double his already considerable wages. Such loyalty deserved recognition.

“I did not engage a cook, as yet, Mrs Anderson,” he said, his expression stony as he regarded Mrs MacLeod as though she were something he’d stepped in. “You did not mention such in your correspondence, and I assumed that would be a matter you’d prefer to oversee personally.”

“It may be,” Ruth replied, noting the rigid set of Mrs MacLeod’s jaw before softening a little. She wanted the staff onside, not to alienate them completely, but they had to give a little too. “In fact, Mrs MacLeod is a fine cook and I am quite content for her to continue in that position. For all the staff to continue, in fact,” she added, allowing her gaze to rest on each of them in turn. “I suspect they are all very capable and just need a little time to get used to their new mistress. Change can be very upsetting after all, can’t it, Garrick?”

Garrick gave a grave nod. “Indeed, Mrs Anderson. Adjustments must be made on all sides.”

Ruth smiled at him, pleased. “Providing that you are happy with their conduct. I shall leave the matter in your capable hands, Garrick. I know you will not let me down.”

“Indeed, I shall not,” came the firm reply.

“Mrs MacLeod, you will kindly see all the staff properly accommodated. I have ordered extra supplies of linen and basic requirements for all the staff as well as food supplies which need to be unloaded. I’m sure if everyone lends a hand we can get everyone settled for tonight before making long term arrangements in the morning. For my part I am content with a bowl of soup or whatever is to hand for dinner to keep the work to a minimum. Sheenagh, I will have tea for two brought to the study in half an hour. Garrick, I hope you will join me at your convenience. We have a few things to discuss.”

Sheenagh was staring at Garrick as if he was some manner of terrifying mythical beast, but managed a slight nod of assent.

“With pleasure, Mrs Anderson,” Garrick said, with as much deference as if he were addressing a duchess.

Ruth bit back a grin, knowing that they never usually bothered with such formality and that it was all for show. She nodded regally at him and then took herself off with a sweep of her skirts.

Round two to the Sassenachs.

It didn’t take long for Mrs MacLeod and the resident staff to realise they were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred. That didn’t mean they had to like it. They did everything asked of them, in silence and without complaint. That did not mean anyone was unaware that they were seething, a fact illustrated by their tight lips and glittering eyes. Ruth hoped it didn’t last. With luck they would soon see that she was ready to be pleased by them. If they gave her a chance she would be quick to reward them for their efforts. She had been perfectly happy to win them around from the start but if they wouldn’t give an inch, they left her little choice in the matter. Now, it was their turn. Whether they would try to work with her or simply dig their heels in harder she didn’t know. She could only hope that she could find a way to reassure them she didn’t want to be hard on them, if only they would give her the opportunity to be anything else.

By the time Garrick joined her in the study, her spirits had been somewhat restored, and she beamed at him with real pleasure.

“No, don’t you dare lift a finger,” she said as he reached for the tea pot. “A butler of your magnificence pouring tea? I should think not.”

Garrick chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not sure the mistress of the house ought to be pouring for me, all the same.”

“Ah, well. We never stood on ceremony, Garrick, and frankly I’m so grateful to you for coming….” Ruth’s voice faltered a little and she paused, giving him a rueful smile. “Well, I think I’ve made that plain enough, but what are you doing here? Surely you knew I only intended for you to send staff from some of the other properties?”

“Of course,” Garrick replied, taking the cup she offered him. “But may I speak plain, Mrs Anderson?”

“I’ll be most offended if you don’t,” Ruth said, laughing as she prepared her own cup.

“Do you remember when you took over the running of Upper Walpole Street?”