The Winds Of Fortune Episode 08
Norah Pipp was busy in the kitchens of Bothwell House.
It was almost teatime and, today, the Northavens had a guest. Ivor Dodson-Smyth, a good friend of Master Harry, had come to visit for the afternoon.
Norah waited for Cook to finish loading the trays, then picked one up, ready to take it upstairs.
Norah liked Mr Dodson-Smyth. He was an intense young man, but kind and polite to the servants.
He was an expert on those new-fangled cars, and he and Master Harry could sometimes be seen outside, tinkering with the engine and discussing his Bentley.
Norah climbed the stairs, before knocking and entering the drawing-room.
She carried the tea and cups over to Mrs Northaven and placed them on a table beside her.
“Thank you, Norah. Turn on the lamps and light the fire before you go.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am.”
Norah made her way around the room, turning on the tall lamps in the wall sconces and the smaller ones on the side tables.
Then she knelt by the fire and began to light it.
Behind her, Miss Violet took two cups of tea, passed one to Ivor and sat down next to him.
“Here you are, Ivor,” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
“Thank you.” The young man reddened.
“Why don’t you tell me all about your Bentley, or the latest political scandal?”
As far as Norah knew, Miss Violet wasn’t the least interested in cars or politics – or in Mr Ivor, for that matter.
Indeed, she seemed to have formed a recent crush on a rather wild young man called Alfred, and Norah was worried about her.
“Don’t pester Ivor, dear. Cut the cake instead.” Her mother smiled at Violet indulgently and she got up to do as she was bid.
She was a pretty girl, petite with blue eyes.
This afternoon, she looked lovely in a pale blue dress and a long pearl necklace.
Violet had been a sweet girl when she was small, but Norah couldn’t help worrying that she’d grown up self-indulgent and vain.
Some wise advice in her direction might not go amiss.
Her own mother had always kept a firm hand on her large brood, and just as well, with all those boys.
Norah smiled as she thought about her siblings, especially Joe, and she struck a match to light the kindling.
“How are your family, Ivor?” Mrs Northaven turned to their guest.
“Very well, thank you.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
Ivor, a tall young man with sandy hair and blue-grey eyes, was the heir to his parents’ estate, and their pride and joy.
As Norah rose to her feet and turned to go, Mr Northaven turned to Ivor.
“What do you think of the situation in America?” Edwin asked.
“It’s shocking, sir.” Ivor’s face was alight with concern.
“There are some appalling stories of loss. I believe some of the best families have been affected.”
“Indeed, they have. The effects will be far-reaching. We may well experience aftershocks here, too.
“Let us hope that the next few years will not see a great deal of poverty.”
“I am afraid, sir, that people are in for a rough time.”
“Yes.” Mrs Northaven joined in. “My own family has been affected. I received a letter yesterday from a cousin of mine who has lost everything.”
She lowered her voice, her eyes widening.
“Indeed, her husband took his own life.”
Ivor looked shocked.
“I’m dreadfully sorry to hear that, Mrs Northaven,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It’s a terrible business. We shall have to determine what, if anything, we can do to help them.”
Harry nodded, his face concerned, but Norah was shocked to see Miss Violet roll her eyes.
What a worry that young lady was becoming.
To be continued …