Murder at Mansfield Park - Lynn Shepherd [56]
‘I am very sorry to hear it, Mrs Baddeley,’ Mary replied, her heart sinking.
‘Between ourselves,’ said the housekeeper, moving a little closer, ‘I think you was right to tell Mrs Norris she shouldn’t have been moved. That will be at the root of the mischief, you mark my words.’
Mary flushed. ‘I am not sure I take your meaning—how did you know that I—’
Mrs Baddeley gave a knowing look. ‘Servants may be dumb, Miss Crawford, but we be not deaf into the bargain. Young Williams, the footman who carried Miss Julia to the carriage, he told my Baddeley what you said, and he told me. There be no secrets in the servants’ hall, whatever our betters might choose to believe.’
Mary had never doubted it; she had once been a housekeeper herself in all but name, and had learned more about human nature from those few short years than she had from all her books and schoolmasters, even if it was an experience she now preferred not to dwell on, at least when among genteel company.
‘If you ask me, the ladies could do with having someone like you in the house, Miss Crawford,’ continued Mrs Baddeley. ‘The whole place is at sixes and sevens. Are you sure I cannot fetch you a piece of cake? Very good cake it is, made to my mother’s own receipt.’
‘No, thank you, Mrs Baddeley.’
Her companion settled her ample form more comfortably into her chair. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that her ladyship is of no use in a sick-room, and Miss Maria isn’t much better—from the moment they brought her sister back yesterday she’s been all but frantic— crying and falling into fits, and needing almost as much attention as poor Miss Julia.’
‘And Mrs Norris? As I understood it, she was to take charge of the nursing.’
‘Well, if you call it taking charge. There’s been a lot of shouting and bawling, and calls for footmen in the middle of the night, but not much of any use, in my opinion. If you ask me, she’s never got over the shock of Miss Fanny taking off like that. That marriage was going to be the making of her. Her and Mr Norris both.’
The mention of Edmund’s name recalled Mary to herself, and she hastened to thank Mrs Baddeley for her tea and depart, before she found herself made the confidante of observations of an even more awkward nature.
She had almost given up any hope of seeing Edmund, but as she went back up the stairs she saw him at the outer door in the company of Sir Thomas’s steward. The two were deep in serious discussion, and it was several moments before they became aware of her.
‘My dear Miss Crawford,’ said Edmund at once, ‘do forgive me. I have been engrossed, as you can see, with Mr McGregor.’ He stopped, momentarily discomfited. ‘I recall now that you were so good as to agree to call on us today. I have had so much to attend to since my return that my mind has been too much engaged to fix on any thing else. Were you able to see my cousin?’
Mary shook her head. ‘Miss Julia is not well enough to be disturbed. I am afraid it is as I feared.’
Edmund nodded, his face grave. ‘My reason hopes you are wrong, but my heart tells me otherwise.’
It was the first time she had ever heard him speak so; his manner was as serious as ever, which was only to be expected, but there was a composure in his mien that she had not seen before. She was still pondering what this might signify when he enquired whether she might like to accompany him to inspect the channel for the new cascade.
‘I am sorry that my time is so occupied this morning, but Mr McGregor wishes to consult me on a number of practical matters before he allows work to resume. It is a fine morning for such a walk, and it may interest you to see the progress made on your brother’s plans? I am sure the paths will be quite dry.’
As Mary well knew, the path