Lavinia Daw’s cottage was set back from the road, fronted by a lovely flower garden, sheltered behind a boxwood hedge. Lydia’s spirits rose as she beheld the lovely dwelling. It was a two story, half-timbered house with a thatched roof and an apple and pear tree on either side of the front garden.

“And you live next door?” Lydia asked Jenny.

“Yes, right over there.” She pointed to the left. “Both of these houses were part of one estate some years ago, but have since been separated. Shall we go inside?”

“Yes, please.”

Jenny directed the men to carry the luggage inside the house.

“Shall we take it up to your room?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t know which room is to be mine,” Lydia responded.

“I know which it is. Your aunt told me.”

“Then, yes please.”

Jenny led the way up the stairs and went to the room that would be Lydia’s. The men deposited the luggage and Jenny started to pay the men their beer money.”

“Oh, no, let me take care of that,” Lydia insisted.

But Jenny went ahead and paid the men. “No. You can take me for a cream tea at Twistavant’s some afternoon when I am feeling particularly low.”

“That would be my great pleasure,” Lydia responded. “Do you know at what time my aunt shall return?”

“She is usually home just before six o’clock. She instructed me to tell you to unpack and settle in. And you might want to wander around the house and garden and familiarize yourself with your new surroundings.”

“I have no idea where the kitchen is, but would you like some tea? I feel certain I can find my way around enough to offer you that.”

“That would be lovely.”

As Jenny led the way to the kitchen, Lydia asked, “What can you tell me about my aunt? I have never met her, you know.”

Jenny laughed. “Is that so?” She looked askance at Lydia. “What can I tell you? Well, she is in her sixties. She has grey hair, usually covered in a cap. Her eyes are…”

“No, not that kind of description. I will be able to see that soon enough for myself. What I want to know is what kind of person is she? Is she kind? What makes her cranky? Is she happy or sad?

“Oh, you want to dig below the surface, I see.”

“Oh, this is the kitchen,” Lydia commented, as she began to search through the cupboards. “Now then, tea, tea, where does she keep the tea?

She was opening one cupboard after another. “Ah, the teapot.”

She placed it on the kitchen table as Jenny poured water from a jug into the kettle and set it on the metal stove. She then threw a few pieces of coal into the grate on top of the still hot bed of coals left from the morning.

“It should not take too long,” Jenny said.

Lydia had found the tea, milk, and a sugar bowl, and was preparing the cups and saucers.

“Shall we sit while we wait for the water to boil?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, I would love to see the garden, may we do that first?” Lydia asked.

“Certainly. You love to garden, do you?” Jenny asked as she took Lydia by the arm and led her out the back door into the garden.

“Oh, how lovely,” Lydia exclaimed, as she walked among the fruit trees. “But there needs to be some pruning done. Does she employ a gardener?”

“Not that I know of. She likes to putter in the flower beds out front, but I have never seen a man about, and she certainly does not clamber about the trees doing any pruning herself.”

“Then that shall have to be one of my tasks.”

“You can do such things?” Jenny asked.

“My whole family gardens, and they could never get me out of the trees when I was a youngster.”

“Well, are you not the clever one?”

Lydia surveyed the rest of the back garden. There,” she pointed. “There is the perfect spot for a vegetable garden.” She pointed to a sunny portion far enough from the fruit trees to provide unobstructed morning and afternoon sun—even in the spring and autumn. “Might there be some young friend of yours who could plow up a section for us?”

“One of my scruffy brothers might oblige.”

“Of course, I shall need to get my aunt’s permission.”

Jenny raised her finger. “I suspect the kettle must be on the boil. It is time for tea.”

* * *

Jenny left right after tea and Lydia spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking her trunk and cases. The house was so quiet. There was no Lucy scurrying around preparing dinner. No sisters trouncing up and down the stairs. No mother working in the garden. No cats. No dogs. Just the silence of an empty house.

Lydia thought to familiarize herself more in the kitchen. She thought it might be nice if she were to prepare a supper for her aunt before she returned from attending to the Duchess.

How she longed for her family garden where she could harvest beans, greens, squash, or any number of other delectables to base her dinner on. There must be a market or a greengrocers in town, but it was too late to set out exploring this afternoon. She did find a meat pie in the larder and some potatoes and a cabbage, so she satisfied herself with those for this evening.

As she was uncertain as to the exact time she might expect her aunt back home, she maintained the fire in the stove and was prepared to start the supper when she returned.

In the meantime, she explored the rest of the house, except for her aunt’s bedroom as that to her seemed overly intrusive. There was a small study with a modest library which pleased her greatly as she was hoping to find reading materials. However, upon further examination, most of the books seemed to be of a legal nature. This seemed strange until she remembered her mother saying, at one point, that her aunt’s late husband was a clerk in a local law office.

Finally, after she had exhausted her examination of the house she settled into the sitting room and took up the embroidery that she had been mindful enough to bring with her.

There was a clock upon the fireplace mantel and she noticed that it was nearly six-thirty, so she expected her aunt’s return at any moment.

By then the sun was declining and long shadows were beginning to stretch across the front garden. Lydia sat at the window and began looking out for her aunt.

Presently, she heard movement in the kitchen, and surprised, she went to investigate. Was it an intruder? Had Jenny forgotten something and come in the back way? She peeked into the kitchen and saw her aunt.

“Aunt Lavinia, I was watching for you from the front window.”

“I came in the back door,” her aunt answered.

Lydia went over, opened her arms, and offered her aunt an embrace.

Lavinia took a step back and refused the hug. “Lydia. You arrived, safely, I presume,” she said sourly.

“Yes, thank you, Aunt.”

Lavinia picked up the teapot with the tea left over from earlier that afternoon.

“Can you explain to me why this filthy teapot is sitting on my kitchen table?”

Stunned by her aunt’s remark, Lydia held out her hands to receive the pot so she might clean it.

“I am so sorry. I shall take care of that. Jenny and I had tea after she so graciously helped me find your place and arranged for my luggage to be delivered. I assure you, this will never happen again.”

“Humph.”

Lavinia was short of stature and thin. Her face looked worn and haggard—either from the stress of her workday or because she was not happy with her life. In either case, it surprised and shocked Lydia, and it made her sad to think that her aunt might not be her hoped for cheery companion.

As Lydia cleaned the teapot, Lavinia looked around the kitchen. She spotted the food that Lydia had put out to prepare for supper.

“And what is this doing out of the larder?” she asked, as she picked up the meat pie and carried it back to put away.

“I thought I might prepare supper for you this evening, and as I found that, I thought it might make for a nice meal.”

Lydia was beginning to panic. Was there any way to return home she suddenly thought?

“I never eat supper. I have my dinner with the Duchess. I have a very modest breakfast and the most I have in the evening is a cup of tea and perhaps a scone or a piece of cake. See you remember that.”

“But might I have a bite of supper? I had no dinner earlier as the coach was due to arrive in Upton Magna.”

Lavinia stared at her. “Humph. If you must, but don’t make a habit of it. You may prepare a modest dinner during the day, but I’ll expect you to observe a simple and decent way of living while you are in this house.”

“Of course, Aunt Lavinia.”

“And prayers are at five o’clock, six-thirty, and before bed at nine.”

“But you are not home by five o’clock,” Lydia pointed out.

“Five o’clock in the morning. You are to be downstairs before me, set the fire in the study when the weather is chill, and pray with me for an hour before breakfast.”

“Aunt, I am not accustomed to such a schedule. And in my family, we pray at meals and in church only.”

“Then that shall change while you are living here.”

Lydia could not acquiesce but remained silent.

“Now then, as I am late this evening it is already past the six-thirty prayers, so we shall commence those immediately.”

“But…” Lydia tried to say.

Lavinia glowered at her. “You may have your supper after the spirit is refreshed with an hour of prayer.”

* * *

Sobbing in her bed, Lydia was devastated. She knew not what she could or should do? How she longed to return home, but she knew that could not be an option.

Her one consolation was her new friend, Jenny. And then there was the fact that Aunt Lavinia would be gone during the day to attend on the Duchess. Perhaps it might not be too bad if she could be useful and engage in positive pursuits during the day.

With all the confusion of dealing with the sour demands of her aunt, she had completely forgotten to ask if she had met the good Doctor Winston that afternoon. That would need to wait for another time.

By the time Lydia drifted off to sleep she was exhausted. But it seemed but a few moments before she heard a forceful knocking at her bedroom door.

“Yes?” she called out still half asleep.

“Why haven’t you awakened me?” her aunt shouted through the door. “It is half past five. You were to rouse at four forty-five.”

“Sorry, Aunt, I did not know.” Lydia sat on the edge of the bed as she struggled to put on her dressing gown.

“You should have figured that out for yourself. If prayers are at five, then obviously you must awaken me in plenty of time before.”

“I shall do better. I will come downstairs in one minute.”

“Do.”

She heard her aunt descend the stairs. What would she write to home? Her aunt had not even asked after the family yesterday. Could this be the same aunt who had corresponded so faithfully with her mother all those years? Lydia speculated that perhaps it was the loss of her husband that had made her so sour and unhappy. And now, it seemed, her aunt was going to take out all her grief and sadness on her.

Lydia tiptoed down the stairs to the study and found her aunt already kneeling in fervent prayer in front of a small altar with a bible and a crucifix. She didn’t even look up as Lydia knelt beside her.

As Lydia tried praying, her mind kept wandering. She was unused to this type of prayer and considered that her aunt might be Catholic rather than Anglican. She wondered if her aunt would expect her to attend the Catholic Church with her, rather than allowing her to attend the church of her father.

Her knees aching, her back in spasm, the prayer finally ended, and they headed, gratefully, toward the kitchen.

“What might I prepare for your breakfast, aunt?” Lydia asked.

“Porridge, tea, and toast. There is some jam in the larder. I shall dress now and you may serve in the dining room.”

“Yes, Aunt. What do you like on your porridge?”

“Why, nothing, of course. What do you have?”

“We have a little butter, some honey, and a dash of milk.”

“Hum. That sounds interesting. I will try that this morning.” Then she left to go upstairs.

Maybe her aunt was loosening up a bit. Was she really going to try something new?

Still, in her dressing gown, Lydia prepared breakfast after stoking the stove with more coal.

When Lavinia came down, Lydia poured the tea and set out the porridge and toast and set out the apricot jam she found in the larder. Then she sat down to have breakfast with her aunt.

“What would you like me to do while you are away today?” Lydia asked.

“The house needs a good dusting. You may go to the market in the morning and shop for what you need for your dinner. I’ll leave a list on the kitchen table of provisions we need from the grocers, and in the late afternoon I would like you to heat some water so that I may have a bath after evening prayers.”

They ate in silence for a short while, and then Lydia said, “My family, and especially my mother send you their regards, and she wanted to let you know that they are all very grateful that you have been so kind and generous to welcome me into your home.”

“Humph.”

“I shall write to my mother today to tell her I have arrived safely and that you send your kindest regards.”

Lavinia looked up but didn’t respond.

Lydia continued. “My traveling companion in the coach was a Doctor Bernard Winston. He was most kind to me and said he was to be a guest of the Duke of Shropshire. So if you have not met him I am certain you will. And when you do, please send him my warmest wishes.”

“Is he a young man you are interested in?”

Lydia laughed. “Oh, no, Aunt. He is an elderly scholar from Oxford. He was the Duke’s tutor when he was a student there.”

As they finished breakfast, Lydia stood and cleared the table.

“How do you travel in the morning to be with the Duchess? Do they send a carriage for you?”

“I walk. It is good for the constitution.”

“Is it far?”

“Several miles. Except for snowy or rainy weather, it is a quite tolerable walk.”

As Lavinia was gathering her parasol to leave, Lydia asked. “I am quite fond of reading and I examined the books in the study. They appear to be mostly of a legal nature. Are there any other books in the house that I might enjoy reading?”

“What do you read?”

“I am partial to novels.”

“No. We have nothing like that, but I do have a number of books with sermons and treatises of a holy nature. You will find them in the sitting room next to my bedroom.”

“Thank you, aunt.”

It was clear that if she wanted anything that she might want to read, she must enquire from Jenny if Upton Magna had a library.

“I must be off now. Remember, hot water when I return,” Lavinia said.

“And where shall I heat it?”

“Next to the bathroom, there is a stove and several pots for heating the water. You will need to start a coal fire in the stove by two o’clock and start heating the water by four. Are there any other questions?”

“Not that I can think of right now, Aunt. But I shall make notes as things occur to me during the day.” Lavinia turned to leave. “Just one more thing. I will need money for the shopping.”

“I have an account at the grocers and there are some coins in the bowl on the table by the fireplace in the sitting room for the market. Anything else?”

“No, Aunt.”

Lavinia left and Lydia could not help but cry once more. She sat at the dining room table and sobbed. Her back still hurt from praying for an hour on her knees, and she felt that her aunt’s heart would never melt.

She was still not dressed in her day dress, and she did not know if she would be allowed to take a bath herself. But she decided that she should. If her aunt complained, then she would. But how would she even know unless she counted the pieces of coal? That set Lydia laughing and she felt a little better.

Then she thought that she would go next door and invite Jenny to go to the market with her. Even a small dose of Jenny might alleviate some of the sorrow she felt in her new home.