Exiting the drawing room, they walked along a massive hallway, steps echoing through the spacious corridor. Within minutes, Serena realised why she’d spent so much time counting the candlesticks and paintings in the drawing room. The house extended forever in each direction, huge wings stretching out from the centre of the mansion. The ornate detail in the arched roof above her inspired wonder, as did the artworks that hung at intervals along the passage.
‘I shall settle you at the end of this wing, where we house the staff—when we have any. There are one or two guest rooms this way, but family and friends usually have rooms in the opposite wing. You will find this comfortable though, I think.’ Judith turned to her with a knowing twist to her lips.
Was this Judith staff or family, then? It was hard to know.
Moments later, she opened the door to what seemed to Serena an entire house. At least, it was as large as her home in the city. A suite? Was she to occupy her own suite? Overwhelmed, she gazed around the luxurious rooms, not knowing what to do. ‘Do all staff have similar accommodations?’
‘If we had any staff, yes.’ Judith went to the huge four-poster bed and fluffed the pillows. ‘Small rooms do not exist in Aleron. We don’t house staff here these days, and we manage well without them.’
‘Aleron?’
‘The name of the house, child. Aleron House.’
‘And you are not staff, then, Judith?’
‘Not precisely. I do function somewhat as the housekeeper though, yes, and you may call me Mrs Jones.’
‘Oh.’ Strange. A well-born woman acting as a servant. Serena could only speculate what reasons might be behind that arrangement. She moved toward the bed and was greeted with the heady fragrance of fresh rosemary, a pouch of which had been left on the quilt. She adored the smell of rosemary and pressed the pouch to her nose. Her mouth filled with the longing for roasted lamb, seasoned with the delicious herb, something she had not tasted in several years.
Still clutching her bag, Serena remembered Mr King’s behaviour in the drawing room and cleared her throat. ‘Mr King—he accused me of attempted thievery.’
Mrs Jones straightened and eyed her, one brow lifting higher than the other. ‘He did?’
‘Yes, he thought I intended to find his safe and steal his gold.’
Mrs Jones watched her but said nothing.
Would Serena seem presumptuous speaking of the master of the house in such a way? She worried her lip between her teeth. She needed to know.
‘I am wondering, Mrs Jones, if that is his normal manner?’
‘Manner?’
Serena swallowed. ‘Yes. Um. Gruff and scowling.’
The woman stared at her for a moment longer. Then her lips twisted in amusement again as she straightened an already perfect bedcover. ‘Yes, indeed. The most cantankerous person I know. You’d best keep your distance. But in this case, I am afraid my brother was playing a charade.’
‘I beg pardon?’
With a curt sigh, Mrs Jones faced Serena again. ‘There is neither safe nor gold. I suspect Mr King was baiting you.’
‘Baiting me? Why?’
Mrs Jones approached her and took the leather bag from Serena’s grasp, stopping to look her in the eye. ‘If I could answer that question, we would both be wiser now, wouldn’t we?’
She winked then, shocking Serena even further. She had first considered Mrs Jones to be stiff and serious, but now she had to rethink that impression. Maybe she’d discovered a friend and confidant to help her survive this time of trial. Surely Providence was at work. But then ... ‘Wait. Did you say Mr King was your brother?’
‘Yes. Lucky me.’ Mrs Jones grinned at her droll words this time. ‘My husband and I brought him out to Australia with us after ...’ The smile vanished and Mrs Jones busied herself placing Serena’s bag on the bed and opening it. ‘After we learned what a wonderful country Australia is.’
Serena did not wish to pry but the hesitation proved Mrs Jones’ answer unconvincing.
‘It works for us to live here. I, as I’ve explained, work as the housekeeper, and my husband, Robert, acts as the butler and Eddie’s personal valet.’ She glanced up briefly, her face pinched as though she suffered, and then removed Serena’s unmentionables and placed them in drawers. ‘The groundsman and groomsman are our sons and the cook is a dear family friend. As you see, we are a close-knit group here. Apart from us, we bring in a team of maids once a week to go through the whole house and clean whatever we have missed along the way. We’ve closed many rooms and covered the furnishings with dust sheets, leaving little to do. The house works efficiently that way.’
Strange, but if that worked for them, who was Serena to argue? ‘And what am I expected to do?’
Mrs Jones pressed the drawer shut. ‘What skills do you have? I am not sure my brother thought it through when he agreed to hire you. He can be somewhat spontaneous.’
‘Agreed?’ Serena shook her head. ‘No, he forced my hand.’
Mrs Jones stared at her, blinking. ‘You must have misunderstood. Why would he do such a thing?’
‘He ...’ Serena almost blurted out everything, but bit on her lip instead. If Mrs Jones didn’t know of Papa’s attempt at thievery, Serena didn’t need to advertise it. ‘I know not why, but here I am.’
‘And your skills?’
‘I can cook and clean.’ Though that seemed redundant now she understood how Aleron operated. She shrugged. ‘I have experience in nursing my sickly mother, God rest her soul, and in caring for my sisters.’
Mrs Jones pressed her lips into a grim line. ‘I suppose you can help with the laundry. It’s too much for the maids to complete in one day. But that won’t fill all your time, so it will be your duty to go from room to room and make sure everything is tidy and in place. In the meantime, I will speak with my brother.’
Oh dear. Laundry was her least favourite of household chores, but if
