Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave - Stephanie Barron [51]
I was determined to learn more of the woman named Rosie, who had been cause for such violence of argument between Mr. George Hearst and the late Earl. To that end, I made for the servants’ quarters, and after several enquiries, was directed to the housekeeper's apartment.
“Mrs. Hodges,” I said, when that good lady appeared at her sitting-room door, neatly arrayed in her habitual black with a snowy cap upon her head, “I would speak with you, if you have a quarter-hour to spare.”
“I should be delighted, miss,” she replied, stepping back and throwing her door wide.
I was shown to a comfortable chair by the fire and begged to sit. I confess to stealing a glance about me as Mrs. Hodges went in search of her teapot—for the housekeeper's rooms at Scargrave are on such a scale that they might almost be those of the Austens in Bath, a comparison that should probably horrify the good Mrs. Hodges, did she know it. But I collected myself as she placed a cup before me, her kindly face eager to be of service.
How to put the question I must ask? I had never been forced to the task of blatant inquisition before, and it rankled. To have done with, then, and suffer through, seemed the advisable course.
“Mrs. Hodges,” I began, sipping at my cup, “I wonder if you can tell me whether a young woman by the name of Rosie has ever been a caller at Scargrave Manor?”
A look of bewilderment came into her eyes as she settled herself in the chair opposite. “Rosie?” she said; “I can't recollect as there was a lady by that name. There's Rosies enough in the world, to be sure, but I am informed of the Manor's guests by their surnames only, as is proper for one of my place.”
Of course this was true; I myself should not have known the lady's Christian name, had she been spoken of in the usual manner; but Mr. Hearst—for it was his voice that had surely pronounced it—had seen fit to drop the “Miss” before her surname. What had that been, after all? Catch? Fetch? No—a type of boat. Ketch. Rosie Ketch.
“I believe the lady's surname was Ketch,” I said.
The transformation of Mrs. Hodges's face was something remarkable—first white, then red, with eyes popping; I thought for an instant that she should fall into a fit of apoplexy. “Mrs. Hodges,” I said anxiously, setting my tea aside and reaching towards her with concern, “whatever is the matter? What can I have done?”
“It's nothing, miss,” she stammered, recovering herself with effort; “only I've asked as that slattern's name never be pronounced in this house again. She was no example for the younger girls, and a heap o’ trouble while she was in service, and I'd forget her as soon as I'm able. I thought it was a lady you'd enquired after.”
“It was my mistake,” I said. “I had no notion she was in service. I merely heard the name, attached to an interesting remark, and wondered when she had last been at Scargrave.”
“I'll warrant the remark was interesting,” Mrs. Hodges observed shrewdly, and clasped her hands upon her considerable stomach. “Rosie's gone three months now, but if it's news of her you want, you'd best be talking to Jenny Barlow, as is her sister down t'a home farm. Not that Rosie's worth the asking after, mind you; but you have your reasons, I dare say.”
That my reasons were unlikely to do me credit, her look and tone clearly implied; and I felt myself blush scarlet.
It remained only to thank her for her hospitality and enquire the direction to Jenny Barlow's home. Then I left Mrs. Hodges by her fire, donned my cloak and boots, and made my way through the kitchen gardens to the lane—which led, in a winding fashion much beset by drifts of snow, some three miles to Scargrave's farm.
THE WEATHER WAS VERY FINE, AND I FELT MY SPIRITS LIFT AS the cold sun touched my cheek. Being anxious to apprise no one of my errand, I could do little but walk; formnately, I possess such an excellent constitution, and am so accustomed to exercise, that I found the three miles not overly fatiguing. I had been told to expect Jenny Barlow's cottage near the beginning of