The Painter's Apprentice by Charlotte Betts

into the kitchen. ‘They’re here! We can see the barge coming upstream.’
    ‘Beth, call your father,’ said Susannah. ‘I’ll hurry on ahead.’
    William, wearing his best wig, was in his study but left his desk as soon as Beth told him that the expected guest was in
     sight. The barge was tying up at the landing stage by the time they arrived. There was only just time for the family to line
     up before Henry Compton handed the new guest on to dry land. He indicated to William that he should come forward.
    The lady, heavily veiled, was wrapped in a claret velvet cloak trimmed with fur but Beth could see little of her, except to
     ascertain that she was of middling height and solidly built.
    ‘Mistress Morley, may I introduce Dr Ambrose?’ said Bishop Compton.
    William gave a deep bow. ‘At your service, madam. My family and I will do all in our power to make your stay at Merryfields
     a pleasant one.’
    She inclined her head and murmured a reply.
    The Bishop introduced Mistress Morley to all the family one by one. They made their bows and curtsies, then he led the way
     back to the house. The new guest’s liveried manservant and a lady’s maid followed.
    Once inside, Susannah suggested that she accompany Mistress Morley and her maid to her bedchamber, where she might care to
     wash her hands before dinner.
    ‘What Mama means is that she’s going to show her the p-p-private closet with the close stool,’ whispered John to Cecily.
    ‘Shh!’ Beth nudged her brother in the chest. ‘She’ll hear you!’
    ‘Why all the secrecy?’ asked Kit.
    ‘Surely she’ll take off her veil before dinner?’ said Cecily.
    ‘You never know, she may have a face covered in fur and start howling at the f-f-full moon!’ John tipped his head back and
     made as if to demonstrate.
    ‘John!’ William’s voice was frosty. ‘Perhaps you’d better go and wash your own hands or our guest will think you are nothing
     more than a common gardener’s boy.’
    ‘But I
am
a gardener!’
    William’s lips twitched slightly. ‘Nevertheless, I don’t wish to see hands at the dinner table with enough dirt under the
     fingernails in which to grow potatoes. Off you go! And all of you, please treat our guest with the respect she deserves.’

    Mistress Morley did remove her veil before dinner. Beth was relieved to see that she had a pleasant, if rather sallow countenance,
     lightly pockmarked and with a broad forehead and a long nose. Her eyes appeared to trouble her because she blinked a great
     deal.
    At dinner the manservant stationed himself behind her chair and the guests stared at her with curiosity but, since she appeared
     so ordinary, soon turned back to concentrate on their exceptionally fine dinner.
    After saying grace, Bishop Compton kept up an easy flow of conversation.
    William carved Mistress Morley a choice piece of venison, while Susannah talked to her of the many agreeable diversions she
     mightfind at Merryfields. ‘And Beth will remain close at hand, should there be anything you require.’
    Mistress Morley inclined her head and then turned to Beth. She blinked as if it took a special effort to concentrate. ‘I understand
     you paint pretty flower pictures.’ Her voice was low, with a slight French accent.
    ‘I’d be happy to show them to you, if you wish?’
    Mistress Morley nodded but turned her attention to the feast without engaging in further conversation. In spite of the downward
     droop to her mouth, she ate a good dinner.
    ‘I must return to Fulham before darkness falls,’ said Bishop Compton, ‘I’ll call on you next week and see how you do, Mistress
     Morley.’
    ‘I’ll accompany you to the landing stage,’ William said to the Bishop. ‘And Beth, my dear, will you look after our guest?’
    ‘I shall be glad to, Father.’
    Bishop Compton kissed the visitor’s hand and took his leave of Susannah before saying to Beth, ‘I am very content knowing
     that you will befriend Mistress