Banishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1) Read Online Free PDF

think you will find lady’s-maids to be now an unnecessary luxury. If you will all be so good as to excuse me. I have Sir William’s affairs to wind up.’
    ‘Stay!’ cried Isabella. ‘When do we have to leave Mannerling?’
    Far away now the thunder rumbled and a watery shaft of sunlight shone in through the long windows.
    ‘In a week’s time.’
    ‘A week! But that is not enough time. Good heavens, there are all the art treasures to be boxed up – the paintings, the statuary.’
    ‘Unfortunately,’ said Mr Ducket with his hand on the doorknob, ‘they are no longer the concern of the Beverleys. Sir William has not only gambled away Mannerling but the contents.’
    He left and quietly closed the doors behind him.

    During the miserable week that followed, Isabella thought often about the viscount’s remarks about loyal servants. The servants of Mannerling seemed almost thrilled at the ruin of the family which they had served. There was a dumb insolence about them, a gloating air. They had been treated like machines and now saw no reason to share in the misery of their betters. Rather, they rejoiced in it.
    The sisters wandered through the elegant rooms like wraiths, touching loved treasures with hands that had never known work, gazing out at the elegant vistas which would so very soon be no longer theirs to look on.
    None of them had been to Brookfield House. They did not want to know about the place. Sir William and Mr Ducket came and went, with the fourgon piled high with baggage, although the luggage was mostly clothes and such household items they felt could be decently taken away. Even the horses in the stables were to belong to this Mr Judd, this villain, this criminal who had so callously taken their inheritance away.
    During that dreadful week the viscount called, but Isabella refused to see him. She now believed he had known of their impending ruin and felt that he might have warned her.
    And no one called. For the news of the fall of the Beverleys had spread like wildfire throughout the county. They had patronized and snubbed so many that their ruin was greeted only with a gleeful, gossipy excitement.
    Then there were the lawyers and the duns down from London, closeted in the study for hours at a time, and Sir William would emerge from these sessions stooped and aged.
    Mr Ducket, at last driven to pity for the plight of his soon-to-be late employer, wrote to his new employer begging a further few weeks and rented a room at the inn in Hedgefield so that he could continue to wind up Sir William’s complicated debts and affairs.
    And so the day came quickly when they had to leave Mannerling, being driven for the last time in the family’s travelling carriages, for they, too, must be returned to the stables to await the arrival of the new owner. The sisters had cried until they could cry no more. Huddled together, they stared bleakly straight ahead as they bowled down the long drive. The servants were all staying on in the hope of serving Mr Judd, the new owner. New servants had been hired for them from Hedgefield: a cook-housekeeper, four maids, a pot-boy, and an odd man. There was not even a coachman, and certainly not a butler or any footmen.
    The sisters sat in silence on the road to Brookfield House. They had grown up each with her own handsome room and lady’s-maid. Now they were to share bedrooms and learn to dress themselves and arrange their own hair.
    As last the carriage rolled up the weedy drive of Brookfield House, a large square grey building covered in ivy which fluttered and turned in an unseasonably chilly wind.
    The new odd man, a stout, cheerful countryman called Barry Wort, was waiting to collect the last of their belongings from the carriage.
    Lady Williams, said a little maid with rosy cheeks and a shy smile, was lying down. She would show the young ladies to their rooms. ‘Thank you,’ said Isabella, giving the girl a smile. She who had never thanked a servant for anything in her