Mary Brendan - Mr. Trelawney's Proposal

‘As I recall,’ he mentioned silkily, ‘you seemed to lose all interest in who I was. You were more concerned with ridding yourself of my presence at the earliest opportunity.’ He caught proprietorially at her arm as he made for the oaken entrance to Ramsden Manor, intending to take her with him. Rebecca immediately shook him off, her feverish mind foraging for information.

‘Where is Robin Ramsden?’ she demanded shakily of her new landlord.

He returned her stare impassively. ‘Well, come inside the house and I’ll tell you,’ he coolly answered. ‘The staff are assembled.’ He cursed inwardly as he realised he had made it sound as though he classed her amongst them. But Rebecca deliberately shunned him, turning to Miles. As Luke alone walked ahead, a solitary thick tear trickled from the corner of one turquoise eye.

Ross weaved down the steps of the Manor, just as Luke was about to ascend them. Luke swore softly, wondering if the day could yet get worse. He grabbed at his younger brother’s arm, turning him and making him mount the steps with him and enter the hallway. Ross waved the bottle he grasped under Luke’s nose and slurred conspiratorially, ‘Found the wine store, big brother.’

‘So I see…’ Luke replied drily, at one and the same time relieved and exasperated by knowing the reason for his brother’s lengthy absence. He was beginning to wish to God he’d made this trip alone. Ross was becoming just another burden he had to deal with. Heaven only knew what he might get up to next. He supposed he ought to be grateful he hadn’t discovered Ross naked with one of the female servants he was about to sack.

Two elderly, and three young, women scrambled to stand in a straight line as Luke entered the dim, cool hallway. They shuffled uneasily until they had the courage to look up. All were then instantly still with riveted attention.

Rebecca entered with Miles, and Gregory who had brought her over to the manor in the small trap. She noted the women’s unwavering interest and being female knew the reason for it. As mouths dropped open and heads angled back to gaze at perfect features, she realised dully her estimation of his outstanding looks was being openly endorsed.

Cathy, Joan and Sally, the three young women who worked below stairs at the Manor, stared with unabashed amazement. There then began a chain reaction of clandestine rib digging, Joan forgetting herself enough to actually nudge the middle-aged housekeeper in the same way.

Judith instinctively slapped at her for this insubordination before freezing to attention as her new employer’s smouldering dark eyes settled on her. She nervously jangled the keys at her waist and then gripped her hands behind her back.

Ross walked with intoxicated precision to the sweeping ebonized stairway, and leaning on the newel post, allowed himself to swing around and sit on a stair. He smiled amiably at everyone, his eyes lingering on the three homely young servants who, aware of his inspection, all blushed furiously and recommenced discreet elbowing.

Luke collected a black superfine tailcoat from a mahogany hall chair. He shrugged casually into it before strolling to stand centrally in front of them and then turned to look at Rebecca. She and Gregory hovered by the open doorway, although Miles paced resolutely forward on arthritic joints to merge with the paltry line of servants awaiting their new master’s oratory. Luke stepped back from the people ranged in front of him so that Rebecca was kept in his line of vision. He shot a penetrating look at the elderly man with her, wondering who he was, wondering too why the whole place didn’t seem to have an able-bodied man about it. Remembering Rebecca talk of a carpenter’s apprentice, and a gamekeeper, he enquired, ‘Is there anyone else?’

‘Only young John, and Williams the gamekeeper,’ Miles informed him stiffly. ‘I can’t find them anywhere.’

Luke moved a dismissing hand, signalling he wasn’t about to wait longer. He looked at the sorry assortment in front of him. At Melrose he had more staff than this working in the gardens and three times as many working in the house. In fact, he was barely aware any more of just how many servants he did have. His mother and sister dealt with such matters for him.

‘I should like to introduce myself to you,’ he began in a firm baritone, without preamble, ‘and tell you of the circumstances surrounding my inheritance of the Ramsden estate and title. I am Luke Trelawney of Pendrake in Cornwall and this is my brother, Ross. We are here because the fifth baron, your late master, has tragically and unexpectedly died of a heart complaint while away from the estate in Bath. He will be buried, in accordance with his wishes, in Bath, beside his wife in the Granger family crypt.’

He paused as a ripple of dismay from the amassed servants swelled in volume. Sally and Joan raised their white pinafores to dab at damp eyes and shake their heads in disbelief. Luke turned his head and stared at Rebecca, his eyes narrowed as they searched her tense white face. Solemn, sparkling aquamarine eyes unblinkingly returned his gaze. He started to speak again, his head still turned in her direction, which made the others in the hallway dart curious looks at her.

‘I am sixth Baron Ramsden,’ he stressed quietly, ‘and have inherited this house and the entire estate and buildings upon it. The estate and title is remaindered to heirs male which means it has passed to me through my great-grandmother Charlotte Ramsden. She left this area and settled in Cornwall more than a hundred years ago,’ was the extent of his terse explanation. ‘As you know, Robin Ramsden was a widower and on his late wife’s death there were no legitimate heirs of the union.’

Another wave of murmuring and coughing interrupted his speech. All were aware of two estate children who bore striking resemblance to their late master. ‘Daughters in any case,’ was heard to be whispered in a sibilant female voice.

Luke paced restlessly to where Ross sat, speaking to him while waiting for the muttering to quieten. It did almost immediately. He planted a dusty boot on the first step and addressed them from the foot of the imposing stairway.

‘You should know that I have no intention of leaving Cornwall or the estates I have there to settle in Sussex.’ A renewed buzzing met this information but now he spoke clearly over it, keen to get matters finalised. ‘I therefore propose to sell this estate in its entirety.’ This time only stunned silence reverberated about the great hall.

‘I will honour all back wages due and furnish each of you with references. I will do whatever is in my power to obtain alternative employment for those who wish it.’ Luke’s eyes tracked Rebecca as he noticed her gliding back to the open doorway. He started to move forward, passing the line of silent, shocked servants, as he stated quickly, ‘There will also be a generous severance payment commensurate with length of service…’

He quit the hall and descended the stone steps two at a time and caught up with her just as she was about to flee towards the waiting trap.

He caught at her arm and she half-turned, but seeing it wasn’t old Gregory after all, she swung away again trying to break free. He crowded close to her, forcing her back against the mellow brickwork of the house, an open palm braced either side of her golden head.

‘Listen…’ he soothed but she jerked her white, tear-streaked face away from his.

‘Rebecca…listen,’ he ordered, authority abrading his tone this time.

Glossy sea-green eyes met earth-brown eyes then and he slowly moved a hand from the wall towards her stained face. She ducked, trying to evade him, but his open palm was flat against the brick before she’d caught her breath enough to bolt. Her abrupt movement brought her cheek up hard against his black superfine shoulder and he moved closer so that she had nowhere left to go apart from him.