The Steward of Blackwood Hall

Chapter sixteen - An impatient man

Fielding had often wondered how Henry's sisters could be so dissimilar. Where Sarah was a slim, statuesque blonde, Margaret was her opposite in every respect. The shortest of the three Mountfords, her fondness for sweet things was reflected in her figure, while her natural curls were darker than either of her siblings.

Yet it was her personality that showed the most marked contrast. Mountford had an easy-going charm, and Sally's acerbic wit hid a big heart beneath. Yet in all the years he had known the siblings he had not found one endearing quality in their younger sister. She was, by turns, sycophantic, vitriolic or sulky, and rarely pleased by her company.

He was only polite to her for Mountford's sake.

That evening, as the new arrivals enjoyed their first meal at Blackwood, Margaret Mountford lost no time revealing her disappointment with the house.

"I swear there must be a dozen holes in the bed-hangings. When I shook the curtains I counted three moths disturbed from their feasting. The rug in front of the fire has a charred patch, and there is mould growing on the wallpaper. I could not bring my friends here. Blackwood is an embarrassment!"

Mountford snorted. "It is fortunate, then, that they are not invited. It is bad enough when they invade Hill Street."

Sally only shook her head. "You knew before we arrived that Uncle George would never spend a pound when a penny would do. What were you expecting?"

"Something more like Meltham Park." Margaret's bright, eager smile across the dinner table made Fielding feel nauseous. "Your house is so very perfect and so beautifully decorated. The gardens are tranquil havens, and the library is beyond compare. Meltham is the epitome of country living, and a property any woman would be proud to call home."

Fielding sat back in his chair. "You forget that it has taken a considerable amount of time and money to reach the condition you see today. Blackwood has been in your family for a much shorter period, and has regrettably suffered many years of neglect. These things will take time to put right."

"I agree with Fielding," Langdale said as he reached for his glass. "Even in its current state Blackwood is quite charming."

Sally's gaze slid momentarily towards the two footmen waiting to clear the dessert plates, before she cast a warning look towards her sister. "Since Uncle George died Mrs North has done an exceptional job, under very trying circumstances. The fact you have a bed to sleep in at all is entirely down to her hard work."

"We were more comfortable in town."

"Of course we were, but it cannot be helped. Do you doubt my ability to bring Blackwood up to scratch?"

"No, but I fail to see why such an impossible task should rest upon your shoulders. When Henry marries it will be his wife's responsibility, and God help her, whoever she is."

"Why would any woman want to take on Henry when she knows there are moths in the bed hangings, and cinder burns on the rugs? Keeping house for Henry suits me, and gives me a purpose for as long as he needs my help. Besides, even when the house is finished I am not sure Blackwood would be enough of a temptation for someone to marry him."

"I am sitting right here," Henry reminded them from the head of the table.

Sally smiled. "Of course you are, dear. All I meant was, despite your physical charms, some females actually look beyond a pretty façade to the substance beneath, and you have slightly less substance than Blackwood has good linen."

Henry sat straighter in his chair and puffed out his chest. "I have been reliably informed that the number of unmarried young ladies in the neighbourhood outnumber the gentlemen by a considerable margin. When I am of a mind to marry I can choose the lady that suits me best. It's not as though they have any more appealing options."