Roses Have Thorns Read online

  "And what happened to you, Fletcher?" Mr. Cork wanted to know the moment they were alone. "You of all people-I thought you were about to drop the cheese."

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Cork, I felt giddy-only for a moment."

  "Well, don't do it again." The reprimand was half-hearted-he had a soft spot for her and a sneaking feeling that she shouldn't be a housemaid at all. Indeed, as he had said to Mrs. Legge on several occasions, Fletcher would look more at home sitting at the table and being waited on. "You mark my words," he had said, "there's more to that girl than meets the eye."

  He went away to fetch the coffee-tray, and Sarah started to clear the table. She was crossing the hall with a loaded tray when the Professor came out of the drawing-room and saw her.

  Without a word he took the tray from her, carried it down to the kitchen where he dumped it on the table, and walked away again, all the while silent. Sarah found it unnerving.

  Cork and Molly had been there, and Sarah was hard put to it to satisfy their curiosity. It was Cork who settled the matter when they chorused the Professor's peculiar behaviour to him. "Fletcher felt giddy while she was serving the cheese. The Professor, being a doctor, would have noticed. Naturally, when he saw her with a loaded tray he felt compelled to take it from her. If she had had another giddy attack and dropped the tray and smashed the Doulton and those crystal glasses, Lady Wesley would have been very upset." He added severely, "Replacements would have been stopped out of your wages, Sarah. You'd have been poor for months-years-to come."

  Sarah murmured contritely, and he added in a fatherly way, "Well, no harm's been done, anyway."

  Only to my heart, thought Sarah, and she started to lay supper for them all.

  She was tired by now, but since Parsons wasn't back she would have to stay up until Miss de Foe-Burgess went to her bed. She nipped over to feed an indignant Charles, and then went back to sit in the kitchen with Cook and Molly. None of them had the urge to sit in the servants' hall; they sat round the kitchen table, drinking tea and gossiping. Cork and Mrs. Legge were in Mrs. Legge's sitting-room and the house was quiet.

  It was almost eleven o'clock when the bell from the drawing-room rang and Sarah went up to answer it. Miss de Foe-Burgess was going to bed and wanted a glass of warm milk to be brought up to her room. Sarah said, "Very good, miss," in her meek housemaid's voice, and took care not to look at the Professor standing by the window.

  "I'll ring when I'm ready," said Muriel, not looking at Sarah. Her tinkling laugh, directed at the Professor no doubt, followed Sarah as she went back to the kitchen.

  It was twenty minutes later before she was summoned to take up the milk. Muriel was sprawled on the bed, looking at a magazine. She didn't look up as Sarah went in. "Put it on the table," she said, and didn't answer Sarah's polite goodnight. It would have given Sarah great satisfaction to have poured the milk all over the girl's golden head.

  But now she would be able to go to her own bed. She started down the staircase, which was forbidden territory during the daytime for the servants, but it was far quicker to get to the kitchen if she went down the main staircase to the hall. She went slowly, running her hand over the patina of the balustrade, feeling its ancient smoothness. She was almost at the bottom when she saw the Professor in the hall, watching her. It would have been cowardly to turn tail and run-besides, she longed to go to him. Not that she intended to do any such thing. She reached the bottom step and he was there, barring her way to the baize door.

  He stared down at the frilly cap above her tired face. "Afraid to look at me, Sarah?" he asked silkily.

  She was too quick to say no, but she lifted her lovely eyes to his face and looked at him steadily. She said in a calm little voice, "Goodnight, sir," and felt his hands on her shoulders before he gathered her close and kissed her.

  She could have stayed in his arms for ever. She made a small movement, and he released her at once and stood back so that she could pass him. She whisked away through the baize door and gained the kitchen, empty now save for Miss Mudd, waiting patiently for her ladyship to go to bed.

  Her usually sour expression softened as she saw Sarah. "Go to bed," she said. "You're worn out."

  Sarah made some rather wild reply and darted away to get into her bed and lie awake, despite her weariness, wondering what had possessed the Professor to behave the way he had. "Totally out of character," she muttered to Charles. "And oh, if only he had meant it…"

  Common sense returned with the morning. She took up Miss de Foe-Burgess's morning tea, since Parsons, after her day off, was having difficulty in coping with her morning chores. Sarah pulled back the curtains and let in the early morning sun, and the girl in the bed groaned and said sharply, "Close the curtains, do. And bring me my breakfast in an hour." She opened one eye. "What is your name?"

  "Fletcher, miss."

  Sarah picked up the small piles of clothing scattered around the room and went away, closing the door quietly behind her. If the Professor were to marry the lazy creature, it would break her heart. She wanted him, above all things, to be happy, and that he could never be with Muriel de Foe-Burgess.

  Of course, I could make him happy, she reflected, hurrying down the back stairs to her breakfast. He's ill-tempered and impatient and tiresome, but only sometimes… He'd loved his granny.

  She was almost late; Mr. Cork gave her a stern look before saying the grace he recited before meals, but he contradicted this before breakfast was over by remarking that Fletcher was filling out nicely. "Mrs. Legge and I never expected you would be able to undertake the tasks allotted to you," he explained. "But good food and hard work do wonders."

  Sarah spooned her porridge and, on the strength of the butler's remarks, helped herself to more milk.

  Parsons was almost her old self again. "I'll take up Miss de Foe-B's breakfast," she said. "She doesn't often come, thank goodness, for she makes enough work for two. I pity her husband when she gets one."

  "No need to get nasty," reprimanded Mrs. Legge. "Though I must say, she'll make a bad wife for any man."

  "Got her claws into Professor Nauta? He was here to dine yesterday evening-"

  Mr. Cork coughed. "We have no business discussing the guests in this house," he observed ponderously. "But I must admit that Miss de Foe-Burgess is not an ideal wife for a splendid man such as Professor Nauta. I fancy, though, that he is old enough and wise enough to know that for himself."

  They dispersed to their various jobs, and Sarah nipped across to give Charles his breakfast and allow him five minutes in the yard.

  She repeated their breakfast conversation to his furry face, and he rumbled gently in reply. "I wonder what he is doing now?" Sarah asked him, not needing to mention names. There was only one "he' as far as she was concerned.

  She would have been surprised if she had known. That surprise came to Sarah two days later when Cork sought her out as she hoovered the upstairs corridors. "Her ladyship wishes to see you, Sarah. In the morning-room.""

  Sarah followed him downstairs. Was it to be the sack? Had she done something unforgivable? Perhaps Miss de Foe-Burgess had complained…

  Lady Wesley was seated in an armchair by the window. She answered Sarah's "Good morning, my lady," with a nod, and adjusted her spectacles.

  "I have had a letter from Mevrouw Nauta, and before you say anything I should make it clear that I know that you have been to Holland and have met her. She is coming to England for a few weeks for a rest, after the rather trying time that she had-you are aware of that, of course… and by the strangest coincidence she asked if I had any idea of your whereabouts. She will need a companion while she is here, and would like to have you. Much as I am loath to part with you, Fletcher, I am delighted that I can send you to her."

  She paused, and Sarah said quietly, "I would prefer not to go, Lady Wesley, and if I might suggest, surely Parsons would be more suitable?"

  "Parsons would not do at all. Besides, she is engaged to be married, as you know, and is able to meet he
r fiance easily while she is here."

  Lady Wesley drew herself up. "Anyway, I telephoned Mevrouw Nauta as soon as I had read her letter, and told her that I would send you when she arrives at the end of the week." She glanced at the letter in her hand. "Mevrouw Nauta says that she will be over here for about a month, and of course you will return here and resume your duties when she goes." She folded the letter. "You will be a companion to Mevrouw Nauta, a position I am persuaded is more suitable to your upbringing than that of housemaid." She nodded. "You may go."

  Sarah went, fuming. "In this day and age," she muttered as she went back upstairs. "Being ordered around just as though I were a servant…' On the other hand, it would be nice to live a normal life again and not wear a cap and apron. And she would see the Professor, although that might be unwise. She finished her work and went to the kitchen to have her elevenses, and took the opportunity of telling everyone there what Lady Wesley had said. She had expected tart rejoinders, but instead they were all delighted.

  "Just up your street," declared Parsons, and Cork said ponderously, "It has always been obvious to us all here, Sarah, that you weren't one of us. I have nothing to say against your work-you are an excellent worker-but there are certain things… You are not perhaps aware that you have always addressed Lady Wesley as such, instead of "my lady" or, when referred to, as "her ladyship"-a small matter, but one which Mrs. Legge and I were quick to notice."

  "Oh, dear," said Sarah, "do forgive me, Mr. Cork-don't hold it against me."

  "Certainly not, Sarah. You have been, and are still, one of us, a valued colleague."

  Sarah put down her cup. "Oh, Mr. Cork, that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I've been so happy with you all." She beamed round the table. "I'll be so pleased to see you all again."

  "You'll be sure of a warm welcome from us," said Mr. Cork, and everyone murmured an echo to his words.

  There was the question of Charles, of course, settled immediately by Lady Wesley. He was to go with Sarah; Cork conveyed the news to her on the following evening. "And there's a retired maid coming to fill your place until you come back," he told her. "A pleasant body, left to get married some years ago, but is now widowed and glad of a job."

  "It is extraordinary," remarked Sarah to an attentive Charles, "how things turn out, but I'm not sure if I'm glad or not-you see, I'll probably see him, which will be lovely but on the other hand, I'm not sure…"

  The Professor wasn't sure, either. It had all taken a bit of arranging, and his mother, knowing him well, had raised no objection to his suggestion that a few weeks' holiday in England might do her good. "You will not need to be lonely," he assured her. "You remember Sarah, who looked after Grandmother so well? She is working for Aunt Beatrice, and she is quite willing to be your companion while you are in England."

  Mevrouw rapidly put two and two together and made five. "Why, Radolf, that would be delightful. Such a nice, quiet, unassuming girl, exactly the kind of person I would have chosen. Minster Lovell will be lovely, and the rest will do me so much good."

  The Professor bade his parent goodbye and hung up. "It is ridiculous," he observed to Trotter, who was lying across his feet, "that I find the girl so disturbing, and this must be put right at once. I will see as much as possible of her during the next few weeks, and thereby prove that my interest in her is both nonsensical and transitory."

  Trotter thumped her tail in agreement-she couldn't understand the long words, but she got the gist.

  It occurred to Sarah when she woke the next morning that no one had told her where she was to go, and she had quite forgotten to ask, but at breakfast Mrs. Legge told her. "Minster Lovell, near Burford. Knott is to drive you there; it's not all that far. I dare say he'll take you through Buckingham and Witney. Pretty country there. You'll do your work as usual, Sarah, but I'll excuse you your evening duties before you go so that you can pack your things." She added comfortably, "Leave anything you don't want in your room, packed up in a case."

  The week ended and Sarah packed her things, was sent for by Lady Wesley to be given lastminute instructions, and was waved on her way by her domestic companions. She got into the car beside Knott, with Charles sitting philosophically in his basket on the back seat. She was to be at the house before Mevrouw Nauta arrived, so that the housekeeper could show her round and she would be familiar with her surroundings.

  "I wish I knew a little more," she said worriedly to Knott as they drove away, and was comforted by his,

  "Don't you worry, Sarah-it'll make a nice change from sweeping and dusting."

  CHAPTER SIX

  MINSTER LOVELL, when they reached it, was charming, with its river winding through the village. The cottages were built of Burford stone, some thatched, some stone-roofed. Knott drove up its street, past a large, handsome house at the top and then, half a mile further on, turned in through a wide gateway, drove up the short, curved drive and stopped before a low, rambling house with an irregular stone roof, its walls almost hidden by climbing roses, honeysuckle, clematis and ivy. The garden around it was informal, and it was sheltered by a variety of trees. It reminded Sarah of her own home, and she said with real pleasure, "Oh, Mr. Knott, what a delightful house."

  He was unloading her case and Charles. "Very nice-nice inside, too. We'll go in the side door."

  A good thing he had said that, for she was on the point of ringing the front doorbell. She said rather breathlessly, "Oh, sorry-I wasn't thinking," and followed him round the side of the house and in through a stout door.

  A stone passage brought them to the kitchen, and as they went Knott raised his voice. "Mrs. Boot? Are you there, Mrs. Boot?"

  A small, piping voice answered him, and he opened a door at the end of the passage and motioned Sarah to go past him. The kitchen was exactly as she would have wished it to be, with its flagstoned floor, an Aga along one wall, and huge dresser and great scrubbed table in the centre flanked by Windsor chairs. There was a cat by the Aga, and a trio of kittens in a basket.

  The elderly woman at the table was short and stout with a round, happy face. She said cosily, "There you are, then, Mr. Knott and the young lady too. Sit down and have coffee. You'll be wanting to get back I dare say, Mr. Knott, and that'll leave us in peace to go over the house together, Miss… ?"

  "Fletcher, Mrs. Boot, but I'd like it if you would call me Sarah."

  "Well, now, Sarah's a pretty name." Mrs. Boot poured coffee and cut generous slices of cake. "There's still an hour or so before Mevrouw Nauta comes-lunch, she said, and that means half-past one. I'll show you your room and then take you round the house, so's you'll know your way around."

  She looked at Sarah with twinkly blue eyes. "It's quiet here, love, but I dare say you're country-bred?"

  Sarah nodded. "Yes, I am, though I lived in London for quite a few years."

  "Nasty old place," declared Mrs. Boot comfortably, and gave Mr. Knott more cake. "You're all just back, I hear."

  Knott launched into an account of their weeks in London, which lasted until he declared that he would have to go. "And I'll be back for you, Sarah, soon as Mevrouw Nauta goes back to Holland." He grinned at her. "Make the most of it, you and Charles."

  "Ah, yes, your little cat," observed Mrs. Boot. "We'll let him sit here for a bit with my Flo, and see how they get on together."

  Freed from his basket, Charles prowled stealthily round the kitchen, eyed by Flo. He came presently to stand beside her and, after a moment, to Sarah's relief, sat down with every appearance of peaceful intent.

  "That's all right, then," said Mrs. Boot cheerfully. "We'll go upstairs."

  Sarah's room was at the back of the house, overlooking a large garden which merged into the fields beyond. She stood at the window for a moment, delighting in the view. The garden was informal, with ornamental trees and shrubs interspersed with clumps of flowers with paths in between. She turned away to listen to her companion, who was chatting about the room. It was pretty, well furnished and the
adjoining bathroom was all that a girl could ask for. "And Mevrouw Nauta's room is on the other side of the landing, Miss Sarah. I'll just show you. You put your coat on the bed and we'll take a look round."

  "It's lovely, Mrs. Boot," said Sarah, and spied a door leading on to a small balcony. "Could Charles be up here with me? He's used to being with me all the time, especially at night."

  "Of course he can, Miss Sarah-"

  They were crossing the landing and Sarah stopped for a moment. "Thank you, Mrs. Boot, but please don't call me Miss Sarah, just Sarah. I'm the housemaid at Lady Wesley's."

  "Housemaid you may be, Miss Sarah, but I know a lady when I see one." Mrs. Boot opened a door and stood aside for Sarah to go in. The room was charming, quite large and rather lowceilinged, its furniture a golden mahogany with thick carpeting underfoot and pale chintz curtains at the long windows. They went from it presently to inspect the other rooms on that floor, and then climbed to the rooms above. "And I've a flat all to myself at the end there," pointed out Mrs. Boot. "There's only me living in, though there's two women from the village who come each day to see to the housework. There's a gardener and a boy, too-' She paused. "There's a car coming up the drive now-far too early for Mevrouw Nauta." She started down the stairs. "We'd best go and see…"

  As they went, Sarah asked, "This house-is it Mevrouw Nauta's?"

  "Oh, no-didn't anyone tell you?" Mrs. Boot had gained the landing and was peering over the gallery banisters. "There, I might have known…"

  She bustled down the stairs with Sarah hard on her heels, just as the door opened and Mevrouw Nauta came in with the Professor behind her.

  Sarah stood poised halfway down, crushing a strong wish to turn tail and run upstairs again while at the same time filled with the delight of the sight of him. But common sense took over, she descended into the hall at a decorous pace and waited to be spoken to.