out. ‘And every time you see a young woman or a child who looks even remotely like Jessica we have this same thing.’
At that moment, there came a tap to the door and Lily reappeared pushing a laden tea-trolley.
‘I’m going to my room for a rest before dinner. Are you coming?’ Eugenie stared at her husband imperiously but for once she did not have Adam’s undivided attention; his eyes remained on his mother.
‘I’ll be up shortly, darling,’ he replied. ‘You go ahead.’
Flouncing from the room in a swish of silk skirts, she closed the door resoundingly behind her.
Taking his wife’s elbow, Samuel led her to a chair and pressed her gently into it as Lily poured out the tea.
‘Look, darling, you’re letting your imagination run away with you again.’ His voice was heavy with sadness and regret. ‘As Adam pointed out, it’s the same every time you see anyone with red hair or dark eyes who looks anything at all like Jessica.’
Leaning forward in his chair, Adam asked, ‘How old was this child anyway, Mother?’
Josephine sighed as a picture of the lovely faced flashed before her eyes. ‘About five or six, I should say,’ she replied eventually.
Waving aside the tea that Lily held out to him, Adam quickly rose from his seat and strode towards the door. ‘I’ve just remembered I have something I need to do,’ he said curtly, and without another word he too left the room, much as his wife had done only moments before him.
The kitchen door had barely closed behind Lily when she gabbled out, ‘There’s goin’ to be ructions back there again. Miss Eugenie’s just stormed out o’ the room in a rare old strop an’ fer once Mr Adam didn’t go chasin’ after her skirts.’
The staff were enjoying a well-earned tea break at the enormous scrubbed table and they all looked towards her, eager to hear whatever gossip she had to impart.
‘What’s goin’ on now then?’ Cook was the first to give in to curiosity.
‘Well …’ Smoothing down her starched white apron and straightening her frilly mop cap, Lily approached the table. ‘Seems like the mistress went out fer a ride wi’ the master an’ while they were out he called in at the hat shop in town. The mistress got herself all worked up ’cos she saw a little girl who put her in mind o’ Miss Jessica standin’ outside it. But soon as ever the mistress mentioned Miss Jessica’s name, Miss Eugenie were off.’
‘Hmph, that I can well believe,’ the rosy-cheeked Cook grumbled. ‘If it weren’t fer that spoiled little madam then I’ve no doubt poor Miss Jessica would be here still. That little strumpet never could stand Miss Jessica – but then she never liked anyone who Master Adam paid any attention to.’
Mary’s eyes were almost starting from her head as she listened. This had certainly put some spice into the day and she could hardly wait for Lily to go on. At this rate she’d have lots of gossip to take home to her mam and Molly this coming weekend. However, much to her disappointment, the untimely entrance of Mrs Benn, the housekeeper, stopped the gossip mid-flow.
‘What’s this then?’ As she looked sternly from Lily to her rapt audience around the table, Lily stammered, ‘I were just sayin’ as how there’s trouble back there in the drawin’ room, Mrs Benn. The mistress had gone an’ got herself into a state ’cos—’
‘LILY – that is quite enough! I will not have you gossiping about the master and mistress’s affairs, do you hear me?’
Lily flushed a dull brick-red and dropped her eyes guiltily from the housekeeper’s furious face.
‘Yes, Mrs Benn,’ she mumbled, almost shaking in her shoes.
‘As for the rest of you,’ Mrs Benn’s eyes swept the table, ‘have none of you any work to do? I’m sure if you haven’t, I could find you all some extra jobs.’
There was the sound of chairs scraping across the red quarry tiles as everyone rose hastily from their seats and scurried off in different directions. Muttering oaths beneath her breath, Mary made her way back to the laundry. Damn and blast Mrs Benn. She had just been starting to enjoy herself. Not only that, she’d made such a hasty exit that she’d left half of one of Cook’s home-made scones on her plate. She pictured it, all dripping with butter and freshly made strawberry jam …
‘That Mrs Benn’s a bit of a tartar, ain’t she?’ she remarked to Alice, who was helping her