A Solemn Promise

III

"But nothing makes a room feel emptier than wanting someone in it." Calla Quinn, All the Time

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III.

Grace arrived, worldly possessions in tow, ten minutes before six the next morning. While the village slept, the house was awake, with the servants all sitting down to breakfast before they commenced their daily responsibilities.

Grace knew of several of the servants. They all attended the same church and frequented the odd public assembly. She had even danced with a few of the footmen on occasion. Despite all being servants, there was a certain stature afforded to one who worked in the great Ashwood estate.

Mrs Hayes introduced Grace briefly to the household over their bowls of porridge, before taking her into the butler's study. It was a similar size and layout to Mrs Hayes' sitting room, and an older, bespectacled man sat in a leather chair, his nose buried in that morning's newspaper.

"Good morning, Mr Cole," greeted Mrs Hayes cheerfully.

The newspaper crinkled as Mr Cole looked over it. He offered Mrs Hayes a polite smile before setting his newspaper down on his desk. He was dressed immaculately, as only the butler of Ashwood House would be.

Mr Cole had been the butler of Ashwood for eons. Grace could remember him scolding her and Adam for running about downstairs when they were children. She almost shivered noticeably as another memory unwittingly bubbled to the forefront of her mind.

"Allow me to formally introduce Grace Denham," said Mrs Hayes. "Grace is replacing Frances Rivers."

Grace could remember hearing Frances Rivers' name being read out in church during the marriage banns.

"Welcome to you, Grace," replied Mr Cole courteously, though not in a way that he recognised her as Mrs Hayes did. His light blue eyes returned to the housekeeper. "You are to begin making arrangements?" he checked.

Mrs Hayes nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "When will you alert the house?"

"I am waiting on a confirmation. I do not want to be mistaken and have the news spread falsely," Mr Cole said coyly.

Grace knew the tone. This was not a conversation for her ears, and she respectfully vacated the room, waiting out into the hallway, returning to her bags. As much as she knew it was none of her business, she could not help but feel curious about the subject. What exactly was the house to learn, and when would they learn it?

Mrs Hayes emerged moments later and said nothing, and Grace knew better than to ask. She motioned for Grace to follow her, before leading her to a narrow staircase.

My, it had been a long time since she had been up and down these staircases. Grace knew they ran all through the internal walls of Ashwood House. Purposefully hidden behind concealed doors to allow the servants to slip in and out without being noticed by the fine, fancy figures who graced the halls.

Mrs Hayes did not show her age at all as she led Grace up a number of staircases to the third storey of the house. What might have once been a large attic, or a roof cavity, was converted into two dozen little bedrooms. The hallway was long and narrow, illuminated only by lamps; there were no windows. The hallway was cut in two, a door separating one half from another.

"The housemaids, kitchen and scullery maids, cook, and I, sleep through here," explained Mrs Hayes. "Only Mrs Reynolds, the cook, and I, have keys to this door." Mrs Hayes produced a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the door, leading Grace through to an identical hallway filled with bedrooms for the female servants.