Free The Pride of the Peacock by Victoria Holt Page B

that didn’t have a ghost wouldn’t be fit for him to work for.”
    “But he works for Mr. Henniker now.”
    “It’s something of a sore point.”
    We went on with our tour of exploration and, as Hannah had said, there were so many rooms of the same kind that it would be easy to lose oneself. I hoped that if I visited Mr. Henniker frequently I should be able to see it all again and enjoy exploring at my leisure. Hannah was not the most comfortable of guides because whenever I looked at her I would find her eyes fixed on me as though she were assessing me. I put this down to > the fact that I was a member of the family she had once served. However, I couldn’t stop thinking of her looking down on to the Dower House and watching me.
    I admired the carved fireplaces which had been put in during Elizabeth’s reign; their theme was scenes from the Bible, and I picked out Adam and Eve and Lot’s wife being turned into a pillar of salt and felt very ignorant when others had to be explained to me.
    I thought the solarium delightful, with its windows facing south and its walls covered in tapestry, which had no doubt been sold to Ben Henniker by my family, and I pictured my mother pacing up and down here in the gallery while they discussed how they could possibly go on living here.
    Finally we came down to the hall and passed through a vestibule to what Hannah called the Parlour.
    “In the very old days,” she explained, ‘this was where guests were received. ” The walls were panelled, the windows leaded, and there was a suit of armour in a corner.
    “Right at the other end are the kitchens with the buttery and pantry and that sort of thing. That’s the Screens end of the hall. You’ll want
     
    to see them. Some of them go right back to the days when the house was built and that was long enough ago, goodness knows. “
    She led me back across the hall to what she called the Screens a door which shut off the servants’ quarters from the hall and I was in a vast kitchen. An enormous fireplace took up almost the whole of one side. In this were bread ovens, roasting spits and great cauldrons. There was a big table with two benches, one on either side;
    two armchairs-wide and ornate were placed at each end of the table, and I later learned that one of these was occupied by Mrs. Bucket and the other by the butler, Mr. Wilmot.
    As I entered the kitchen I was aware of whispering voices. I knew that I was being watched from some vantage point.
    A large woman came smiling into the kitchen followed by three maids.
    Hannah said: This is Miss dave ring Mrs. Bucket. “
    “How do you do. Mis Bucket,” I replied.
    “I have heard of you.”
    “Is that so?” she’ asked pleased.
    “Maddy who is with us often mentions you.”
    “Ah, Maddy, yes. Well, Miss Qavering, this a great day for us to have one of the Family here.”
    “It is wonderful for me to be here.”
    “Well,” said Mrs. Bucket, ‘perhaps this is going to be a beginning.
    ”
     
    I felt a little embarrassed because they were all assessing me. I wondered whether they were thinking that a Clavermg who had been brought up in a Dower House was not quite a true one. After all, I had never known the grandeurs of a house like this.
    “I’ll never forget the day the Family told us they were going. Lined up in the Hall we were … even the stable boys.”
    Hannah was signalling to Mrs. Bucket, but I blessed the plump cook for I could see that she was one who could not stop herself talking and that the sight of me in the kitchen -a dave ring-had brought back such memories that she could not stop herself recalling them.
    “Of course, we’d heard it before. Money, money, money … It was affecting people all over the place. There was talk of this income tax and how it was ruining everybody. They’d ;
    already cut down in the stables. The horses they had when;
    I first came here! And the gardeners! That’s where the cuts | always
    have to come first . the stables and