The Cavendon Women by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online Page A

You’ll manage very well. I have no doubts about you, Susie. And you know the footmen and the maids are well trained; they’ll help you no end.”
    She laughed, poured tea into two cups. “That’s what Auntie Nell said this morning. I went down to the village to have a word with her, and she was very reassuring.” Susie smiled at him, and added, “Can you believe it? She said I was a far better cook than she’d ever been. That I was really a chef and that, if I went to London, I would easily get a job at the Ritz.”
    â€œI think she’s right,” Hanson answered sincerely. Nell had been a good cook, with long experience, but Susie was more inventive and imaginative with food, which put her in a different category altogether.
    They sipped their tea and munched on their biscuits in silence for a few seconds before Susie threw Hanson a questioning look. “We’re not looking for any maids, are we, Mr. Hanson?”
    He stared at her, frowning. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause my friend Meg Chalmers has just lost her job. She’s been a maid at Fullerton Manor for quite a few years. Now the family is closing the manor, throwing dust sheets on the furniture and locking the house up. For an indefinite period. They’re going to stay at their London residence. They’ve let all of the staff up here go, and everyone’s down in the dumps and desperately looking for work.”
    Hanson felt as if he had just been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. He had heard that the Fullertons were in a bad way, but had not realized how bad; yet another aristocratic family feeling the pinch, going under, he thought, and then said quietly, “No, we’re not hiring at the moment, Cook,” and left it at that.
    Whatever anybody else thought, he knew that Cavendon was still safe. Lady Daphne had assured him of that. Nonetheless, he did worry a lot, even though he knew she would never lie to him. Lately there had been a lot of penny pinching, and cuts, and Lady Daphne had discovered a new phrase. “We’re on a budget, Hanson.” When he heard those words he cringed.
    But Lady Daphne and Mr. Hugo were clever, and now that they were involved in the running of Cavendon there was a great deal of efficiency. Not that his lordship was inefficient, but his heart attack, which had felled him last year, had slowed him down.
    Mr. Hugo had insisted on taking matters into his own hands, and so had Miles. They all worked well together, made a good team.
    Last year, Miles had turned to him for guidance, and he had been happy to explain certain matters to do with the house. In fact, he had given him what turned out to be a short course on the house, and the many valuable possessions in it. All were exceedingly precious, from the paintings and the silver, to the magnificent antiques.
    The paintings in the Long Gallery included some extraordinary pieces, such as those by Constable, Gainsborough, and Lely. These three great portraitists had painted the Ingham ancestors; there were also wonderful Canalettos, Van Dycks, and Rembrandts. “Another safety net the earlier Inghams provided us with,” Lady Daphne had said to Miles one afternoon last week. He had looked at her askance. “Would we ever sell any?” he had asked, sounding slightly aghast. Hanson remembered now how she had answered in a low voice, “If we have to, we will.”
    He himself had jumped in, and exclaimed, “It will never come to that; surely not, Lady Daphne.” And he had flashed her a warning signal with his eyes.
    Understanding him immediately, she had smiled at her brother, and murmured, “However, things are improving. Hugo has sold some of our Wall Street investments, and we have a good cash flow again.” She had then turned to Hanson, and said, “Let’s continue our little tour of the house, go up to the attics, and Miles can view the rare antiques stored