“Mebbe.” Edna did not look convinced.
Mina chewed the last of her mutton and swallowed. “A very tasty gravy, that,” she said. “Do you always serve the battered pudding on the same plate? We always used to have it with gravy as an entrée.”
Edna snorted. “It’s all served on one plate here. Plate, bowl, whatever comes to hand.”
Mina nodded. “Do you have any diners in the small private parlor rooms on a Sunday?”
“Oh yes,” Edna agreed. “All three of ‘em usually. They just has the same as what’s served in the public bar though.” She shrugged. “I try to make sure they all gets matching plates, but that’s as far as it goes.”
“Well, that’s certainly understandable all things considered.” Mina rose to go and fetch the pail from the scullery.
“What you doing of now, Mrs. Nye?” Edna asked in alarm. “You should let your food digest a while by lying on your sofa.”
“I’m going to fill the copper, so we have hot water for the pots and pans.”
Edna jumped out of her chair. “If Master Nye sees you out there working the pump, it’s my head he’ll scalp for it.”
Mina turned in the doorway. “Very well,” she conceded. “Though you’ve still got to go and collect all the plates,” she pointed out.
“I’m used to it,” Edna said dourly. “I’ll fetch the water.” She paused. “If you’re truly not ready to retire to your parlor, then you could grate some soap shavings for doing the dishes.”
“Yes of course,” Mina said and crossed the room to search the cupboards for a grater.
It took two of them an hour, stood side by side at the huge scullery sink to wash the pots and plates. They had to replace the dishwater several times and boil the copper again before they were done. By the time Mina took herself off to bed, she was sure she would sleep like a baby.
Alas, it was not to be. Again, she woke in the early hours to strange noises outside the inn. She lay a moment listening to the rumble and drag across the cobbles. Then she threw back her blankets and crossed to the window. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw two flickering lights amidst the darkness outside, but even as she craned her eyes to focus on them, they went out and all went quiet. She stood there a moment, silent and still, waiting and watching, but nothing happened. Frowning, Mina returned to bed and when rain started pelting against her window an hour later, she finally fell asleep.
8
Mina was brushing crumbs from her skirts after her toast the next morning, when Nye appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and gave her a meaningful look.
“Good morning,” she said brightly.
“Parlor,” he replied abruptly. “Why aren’t you in it?” Edna hastily retreated into the scullery.
Mina eyed him warily. “It seems foolish to lay that large table for just one person to eat a slice of toast,” she answered, drawing herself up to her full height. He looked unimpressed. Admittedly, she did not reach further than his shoulder.
“I’ve got something to occupy you today,” he replied darkly. “You sew?”
“Yes,” Mina admitted. “As a matter of fact, I was going to start repairing my dress today.”
“I’ve got another project in mind,” he said, taking her elbow and steering her out of the kitchen into the passageway.
Mina stole a sideways look at him. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.” He opened the parlor door and guided her inside.
Mina saw at once there was a quantity of blue velvet fabric piled up on the dining table. She looked at it and then back at Nye questioningly.
“It’s curtains,” he said. “You need to alter them.”
“For in here?” She glanced over at the windows.
“No,” he said. “For the bedroom.”
“For my bedroom?” she asked in surprise, glancing critically at the heavy blue fabric. “They don’t really look like bedroom curtains. I would have thought a floral print—”
“For the bedroom,” he said flatly. “I’ll have a brass curtain rod put up in there in this morning.”
“Oh.” On the whole, Mina felt markedly unenthusiastic about the task. She had always liked creating new things from scratch, alteration projects not so much. “Are they lined?” she asked, flipping over the blue velvet, and finding the yellow silk lining. “They look expensive.” She glanced at him quizzically. “Were they hanging in another room?”
He didn’t deign to answer this, just walked back to the door. Before opening it, he looked back over his shoulder at her. “I want no more standing at windows in the early hours, Mina,” he said with a strange tension running through his words.
Mina almost gasped. “But how did you—?”
“I don’t sleep,” he said succinctly. “So, I see everything. Remember that.”
“You don’t sleep?” Mina repeated doubtfully, but he had already wrenched the door open and was striding off. She frowned as she took up the workbox to extract a tape measure and tailor’s chalk. These curtains were long and luxurious. It seemed frankly a crime to cut them down sufficiently for the attic room window. She would be practically hacking them in half! She bit her lip, wishing she could hang them in this room where they would be much better suited.
How tiresome of Nye to insist she have them in the attic bedroom! He must have spotted her stood there, staring out in her white nightgown. But why did he have to make it an issue, she wondered? If he had problems sleeping surely, he should sympathize! She mounted the steps up to the attic, deep in thought.
