Cicely. ‘Most of the young men and women from the village would be glad to help out, and then for the ball itself I think you will find most of the local landowners will be happy to lend their own staff. We usually help each other out for big events. Would you like me to deal with it for you?’
‘Yes. If you would.’
‘I should have it arranged by the end of the week,’ she said.
‘Now. As to the matter of the cricket match . . . ’
One by one they dealt with the matters that needed seeing to, and by the end of the day Cicely went back to the Lodge with the feeling of a day well spent, for she could not hide from herself the fact that she was enjoying helping out at the Manor.
Although Cicely still missed living there, she had worked hard to make the Lodge comfortable and welcoming and it was becoming more homely every day. She had cleaned it thoroughly before she had moved in, and whilst she had not been able to afford to redecorate, she had managed to cover up the worst patches of flaking paint with pictures and mirrors, and to disguise the worn sections of flooring with faded, yet good quality rugs.
She removed her hat as she entered the Lodge, then went through to the sitting-room. She had just thrown open the French windows when Lord Chuffington was announced. Feeling relieved that he had not called half an hour earlier, as she would then have had to invent an excuse as to where she had been, she welcomed him with pleasure.
‘What ho! Cicely,’ he said, as he ambled into the room in his usual diffident fashion, his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers and his light jacket bunched up behind him.
‘Hello, Chuff Chuff.’
Cicely greeted him warmly and invited him to sit down.
He took a seat on one of the faded sofas. ‘Thought I’d just pop over and see if you were ready for Evington’s ball.’
‘Not nearly!’ exclaimed Cicely, thinking of all the staffing arrangements she had to make. ‘There is so much to be done! I have to -’ She broke off as she noticed the surprised look on Lord Chuffington’s face, and realized that she had almost given away her involvement in the organisation of the ball, and therefore her position as Mr Evington’s secretary. She realized she would have to be more careful in future, in particular she must remember to sound casual when she asked the local landowners to lend their servants, so they did not guess that she was acting as Mr Evington’s secretary. ‘I have to sort out all my clothes,’ she corrected herself.
‘Ah! Yes, What!’ said Lord Chuffington amiably. He raised and lowered his eyebrows a couple of times and gave her a lackadaisical smile.
Cicely smiled back.
He raised his eyebrows again and Cicely realized that if she wanted the conversation to proceed she would have to provide something to talk about. ‘Would you like to see what I’ve been doing with the garden?’ she asked.
‘Oh, yes. Rather,’ Chuff Chuff beamed.
She led Chuff Chuff out through the French doors and into the pretty garden.
‘I’m trying to plant it in line with Gertrude Jekyll’s ideas,’ she said. ‘The garden’s rather small to let me put them into practice fully, but I want to use her idea of grouping shrubs and flowers so that I have colour in the garden all year round.’
‘Jolly good idea,’ said Chuff Chuff. He stopped suddenly and turned towards her. With unusual decision - for him! - he said, ‘Look here, Cicely old thing, what I mean is, don’t you know - that is to say, how about it?’
‘How about what?’ she asked, as she noticed a dead head on the roses and thought she must remember to cut it off.
‘You know, this marriage lark?’ He looked at her with hope in his eyes. ‘Can’t sit on the shelf for ever, you know. Got to get off it some time, Good Lord, yes! Parmiston’s not such a bad old place. And you’d have Antoine.’ Antoine was the Chuffingtons’ French chef. ‘Makes a marvellous kedgeree. And — ‘
‘Chuff Chuff, we’ve been through this before,’ said Cicely with a sigh. ‘I —’
‘And soufflé,’ went on Chuff Chuff, without taking any notice of her. He thrust his hands deeper into his trouser pockets. ‘Antoine makes a dashed fine soufflé.’ He rocked backwards and forwards on his heels. ‘Cheese, and chocolate - not together,