"This will do nicely for my desk." Sitting, she searched the papers for a clean sheet, then examined the pencils. "I'll get some better things shortly, but this will do for today." She smiled at Higgs and nodded toward the nearest armchair. "Pull that closer and sit, and let's get started."
Despite knowing the theory, despite having sat with her mother through innumerable household meetings, she was nevertheless grateful for Higgs's experienced common sense, and the woman's blatant support.
"Duck with cherries would be a wise choice to go with the rest. Now we have the werewithal to be a touch more extravagant, it only seems fair to give the master his due. Duck with cherries is one of his favorites."
Amelia added the dish to her dinner menu. Higgs's mention of the family's improved circumstances hadn't escaped her. Higgs had to have been practicing the most severe economies for years; Luc had been right to inform her there was no longer any need. "Can we add crème brulee, do you think? It should round things off nicely."
Higgs nodded. "A good choice, ma'am."
"Excellent — so that's done." Amelia set down her pencil and handed the sheet to Higgs. The housekeeper scanned it, then placed it in her apron pocket.
"Now, is there anything else I should know?" Amelia caught Higgs's eye. "Anything less than satisfactory about the house or the staff? Any difficulty that needs dealing with?"
Higgs's beaming smile returned. "No, ma'am — nothing at present. 'Deed, we were remarking in the hall only last night that now with the master married, and to you, miss — ma'am, I should say — who we all know and have seen grow from a wee girl, well!" Higgs paused to draw breath. "There's not much more any of us could think of to wish for, and that's a fact."
Amelia returned her smile. "I know things must have been difficult in recent years."
"Aye, they were that, and sometimes even worse what with Master Edward and all. But!" Higgs's bosom swelled; her face, which had clouded at thoughts of the past, cleared. "That's all behind us now." She nodded at the window and the glorious summer's day. "Just like the weather, the family's come around, and we've got nothing but good times and pleasant surprises to look forward to."
Amelia pretended not to notice the "pleasant surprises," doubtless an allusion to children — babies — hers and Luc's.
She nodded graciously. "I hope my tenure he
re as mistress will be a happy one."
"Aye, well." Higgs hauled herself up from the armchair. "You've started out on the right foot — now it's simply a matter of keeping on." She patted her pocket. "I'd best get this to Cook, then I'll be at your disposal, ma'am."
"I've a better idea." Amelia rose, too. "I'll come with you, and you can show me around the kitchens. After that, you can take me around the house — I know the general layout, but there's many places I've never been."
Places a guest wouldn't venture, but a mistress needed to know.
Like the attics.
Those of the west wing and half of the east were given over to servants' quarters — small cubicles, few larger than a cell, but Amelia was pleased to note as she walked down the narrow central corridor that each room had a dormer window, and every one she peeked into was not only neat and clean, but showed little signs of comfort — a looking glass, a framed picture on the wall, ajar acting as a vase.
The second half of the east wing's attics were given over to storage. After looking in, she agreed she didn't need a more detailed inspection. Luc had said he'd return for luncheon; she didn't want to appear trailing cobwebs on their first day as man and wife.
Returning to the central block, Higgs stood at the top of the main stairs and pointed out the rooms filling the top floor. "Nursery's here at the front, and the schoolroom's right to the back. We've rooms here for nurse and governess — that's Miss Pink."
Amelia recalled the shy, diminutive woman. "How does she manage with Portia and Penelope?" A wonder, for Luc's younger sisters were nothing if not handfuls.
"Truth to tell, I think it's more that they manage her — those two young madams are sharp as you please, but for all their willful ways, they've good hearts. I think they took pity on Pink the instant they set eyes on her, and there's no doubt she's as much of a bluestocking as they'd wish for."
"They like their lessons?"
"Devour them. And between you and me, Pink teaches them far more than young ladies need to know. Howsoever, as they've brains enough to cope without ending in a fever, Pink has served well. Because they like her, Miss Portia and Miss Penelope try to behave."
Descending from the top floor, they commenced an inventory of the rooms on the first floor. Most of the reception rooms were on the ground floor, but the occasional sitting room was interspersed between the bedchambers along both wings.
"So we actually have a number of suites. Helpful, especially when we have older guests." Amelia made a note on the tablet she carried.
A deep bong resonated through the house. Higgs lifted her head. "That's the luncheon gong, ma'am."
Amelia turned for the stairs. "We'll continue this afternoon."
She stepped into the front hall as Luc entered from the long corridor of the west wing. In breeches and hacking jacket, he appeared the epitome of an English country gentleman; the planes of his face, the long lines of his body more definitively declared his status.
Higgs bobbed, then bustled past him, heading for the servants' hall. Luc raised a brow at Amelia as he joined her. "Have you seen all?"