Arian by Iris Gower Read Free Book Online

had gone home to their wives and their beds. She had to face it, Will was not coming home, not tonight or any night, he had finished with her, he had believed the worst and had put as much distance between them as possible.
    She snuggled down beside the baby and held his warmth against her breast. Tears came afresh and ran salt into her mouth and Eline’s sense of despair plumbed new depths. She was no good without Will, she was half a person, she would be unable to function without him.
    She turned her face into the pillow to muffle her sobs but crying didn’t ease the ache inside her. ‘Oh Will,’ she whispered, ‘please come back, I can’t live without you.’
    At last, she fell into an exhausted sleep, and when she woke, in the early hours of the morning, the place where Will slept beside her was empty.

CHAPTER THREE
    Arian’s back ached, the floor under her knees was hard and the water in the bucket at her side was rapidly cooling, making cleaning the slate flags of the huge kitchen doubly difficult. After only a few weeks at Stormhill, she was finding the menial work tiresome.
    Lord Temple employed only a skeleton staff; it seemed that on the departure of his wife, he had sacked most of the servants, anyone who could remind him of the happier days of his marriage. Later, he had taken on just those who were essential to the running of the manor, a cook, and a housekeeper. Bella, the maid, was the only one he had retained from the old staff and that, she claimed, was because he felt sorry for her. She was so clumsy that it was doubtful she would find a position elsewhere.
    Mrs Richards was a grey figure, her title was of housekeeper but like everyone else in Stormhill Manor, she took on more than one role. Her duties kept her above stairs, she saw that the bedrooms were cleaned and the sheets fresh on the master’s bed. She instructed Bella in the correct method of placing coals in the grates to obtain the maximum heat at the minimum of expense, for the accounts too, were her province. Mrs Richards prided herself on saving money even though it was apparent that Lord Temple was very wealthy.
    ‘A penny saved is a penny earned,’ she was fond of saying though the rest of the servants were not quite sure what she meant by that. However, Mrs Richards was perceived as being very wise and so her words were listened to with respect.
    Mrs Bob was the mainstay of the household, she ruled the kitchen with good humour and as much hard work as her age would allow. She was a fine cook and had learned to make meals that were nourishing and easy to serve, adding the garnishes and sauces that gave the appearance of much time spent over the range but which, in reality took only minutes to prepare. Now, with the coming of Arian, the burden of running a huge manor house was lightened somewhat, though Stormhill Manor warranted a full complement of servants to do it justice.
    ‘Arian, leave that floor for a minute and come by here, will you? Mrs Bob sounded flustered. She was cooking her favourite dinner of breast of lamb which, with a brisk fire, took only an hour to roast. ‘Watch the joint for me while I make some mint sauce. And mind you keep the meat open to the air,’ she instructed. ‘No popping it into the oven otherwise it will be baked, not roasted.’ She paused. ‘It might be as well to remember any hints I pass on because one day you might be cook here instead of me.’
    She was using the old spit instead of the oven and the fat crackled against the coals sending out a tantalizing aroma of lamb. Arian realized she was hungry. She wiped her hands on her apron, waiting patiently for Mrs Bob to explain what she wanted from her.
    ‘There,’ she said at last, her face flushed as she moved from the table where she’d been expertly cutting mint, back to the fire, ‘now I need some red wine and some vinegar. Fetch a bottle from the cellar, will you girl?
    Arian picked up her bucket and cloth, the floor would have to do