Banishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1) by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online Page A

was I doing afore I come here?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Oh, all sorts of things, but I was in the military for ten years, which is why I get along just great with Joshua in the kitchen. I came out three years ago and worked at bits o’ this and bits o’ that. I was always knacky at repairing things and got enough work to augment my pension. Not much of a drinking or baccy man, nor do I gamble, and so I was comfortable enough. Then Mr Ducket was applying for servants for here and so I got the job. Free lodgings and my pension. I am a lucky man, Miss Isabella.’
    ‘How do you find us?’
    ‘That’s not for me to say, miss.’
    ‘Do you not sometimes think of us as peculiarly useless specimens of humanity?’
    ‘Miss Isabella! I have never criticized my betters and don’t intend to start now. A Tory, me, and proud o’ it. Who’s been putting Whig notions into your pretty head, miss?’
    ‘No one. Straitened circumstances are making me look at the world a new way. It is as if Mannerling cast a spell on all of us.’
    ‘It did that,’ he said quietly. ‘If I may be so bold as to speak plain, miss, Brookfield may seem a come-down in the world, but it’s a solid house and can be made comfortable. You will forget Mannerling in time.’
    Isabella shook her head. How could such as Barry understand that every part of Mannerling, every stick and stone seemed part of her?
    The following day, when she was seated with her sisters in the drawing room at Perival, Isabella wondered whether this journey might prove to be a failure. She was anxious to begin her ‘lessons,’ namely, learning to flirt, rather than dressmaking. But soon she became as absorbed as the others in learning how to place neat stitches, in how a few new coloured ribbons could decorate and change the appearance of an old gown. Most ladies when they felt their gowns were out of fashion, or had been seen too much, sold them, but the Beverleys had given them to the poor, who should have therefore been the most elegantly attired paupers in England, but they had sold the clothes for much-needed money and kept their rags. How profligate she and her sisters had been, thought Isabella as she stitched away. She remembered several pretty gowns which she had given away after they had been worn only a few times. Her mind worked away busily over the problem of the new owner of Mannerling. Was he in residence? She should have asked the maid, Betty. But surely Mrs Kennedy would know.
    ‘Is Mr Judd at Mannerling?’ she asked.
    ‘I believe so,’ replied Mrs Kennedy. ‘He arrived yesterday. There is a great fuss among the servants. He said he did not need so many, and of course, being a single man, he has no need of all those lady’s-maids. Goodness knows where the females will find employment in the country! You will probably find several of your old servants on your doorstep looking for employ.’
    ‘Oh, really!’ Jessica sniffed. ‘Too late. They were not loyal to us, so why should we be loyal to them?’
    ‘Fortunately our changed circumstances have made the decision for us,’ said Lizzie quietly. ‘We cannot afford any more servants.’
    Jessica looked at her impatiently and then realized to her horror that she had almost been on the point of blurting out that when Isabella was mistress of Mannerling, she could employ as many servants as she wanted.
    ‘Has anyone seen Mr Judd?’ Isabella was asking.
    ‘There, now,’ said Mrs Kennedy, waxing the end of a thread, ‘I do believe the Stoppards called the minute Mr Judd was in residence.’
    ‘The Stoppards have not called on us,’ said Isabella, thinking again that surely the vicar might have at least paid a visit to ask how they went on.
    ‘He’s a poor sort of cratur, that vicar, and so I am thinking,’ said Mrs Kennedy. ‘And I don’t trust that Mary Stoppard either. Watching, always watching with those black eyes of hers while compliments, as false as anything, pour from her lips.’
    Isabella felt