I looked up from my stacks of papers to unhappily find it was only 10 am. I had started work at nine, but the task at hand was a dull one. Ramsley had unhelpfully cleared the study desk and had stacked up all of my father's old account books and other important documents regarding the estate and my father's other business. He seemingly had his hands in every lucrative trade, and should I choose to keep those connections; I should familiarize myself. My father was so careful about his expenses and incomes that it was a feat in it of itself to determine what could be tossed and what needed to be kept.
Rubbing my temples, I noticed the teapot was empty, and if I wanted to keep trudging on, I would need more. I rang the little silver bell to summon Ramsley.
"Yes, Master Gracey?" he said within seconds of me ringing.
"Must you call me 'Master Gracey' every time?" I asked.
"But of course! It is your right as the owner of this estate. To call you anything else would be improper," he said firmly, "You rang, sir?" Ramsley was always to the point, never one to mince words.
"I am out of tea," I simply said.
"Of course. I shall bring another pot," Ramsley said, taking the tray.
When he left, I sighed. Another pot of tea would not make this work go away. I opened yet another ledger to find more confusing financial notes. Oxford did not teach me how to run an estate, and I felt woefully underprepared.
I became so engrossed in deciphering my father's messy script that I did not notice someone next to me. To my surprise and pleasure, it was not Ramsley but rather Elizabeth.
"Oh, it is you, Elizabeth!"
"Where you like me to set the tray down?" she asked sweetly. I noticed in the short time the tray had been removed that I had filled up the desk with papers.
I hastily grabbed up some papers and gestured for her to set it down in the new space. "Apologies."
"You needn't apologize," she said, setting the tray down. She made her move to leave before I reached out to stop her. She looked down a bit surprised.
"You told me my father hired you before his passing. Since you were hired by him and not me, might I ask you a few questions?"
Elizabeth seemed to pale a bit, so I quickly added, "I'm not going to fire you or anything of that nature, I just like to know who is in my employ."
"Well, I have worked various odd jobs, but this is my first permanent position, before this, I worked as a laundress," she hesitantly.
"Hmmm," I said. These were all professional qualifications but nothing about her. "Where is your family from?"
"My mama was from Mississipi and then came here with me when I was about seven."
"Your father?" I asked.
"I've never met him. Mama said he was a banker," she said, looking away.
I quickly changed the subject. "What do you do outside of work?"
"Mostly go to church, maybe a bit of reading."
"You read?"
"My mama was very intent I know how to read, and so I try to keep it up when I can."
"What are you reading now?"
"Just a bit of..." but she never got to finish. Ramsley loomed in the doorway and coughed.
Elizabeth nodded at Ramsley. "I better get back to my work. I hope your work goes well." And with that, she scurried out.
Both Ramsley and I watched her leave, and when I judge her to be far enough down the hall, I shot Ramsely a dejected look.
"Your tea will go cold soon, and I suspect it would be most prudent to get clear away some of these papers before lunch." With that, he exited as well, and I was left to my work.
I did work the rest of the day, even through lunch, which Ramsley brought and took away without being eaten. It seemed by dinner, I had made an acceptable amount of leeway though the paperwork, that Ramsley seemed pleased. I say seemed pleased because one could never tell his expression by his face alone. But he did nod approvingly when he came to fetch me for dinner.
"Ramsley, can you get someone to remove my father's portrait hanging in my room?"
"And where you like it moved?"
"I was thinking perhaps we just, get rid of it," I said, thinking a simple portrait wasn't that big of a deal. Ramsley bristled.
"I do not think it would be proper to simply throw out your father's portrait, the craftmanship of it alone. Perhaps it would be better placed at the end of the hallway? I had another painting removed due to damage, and I think it would be an appropriate spot." The finality in Ramsley's statement signaled to me that there would be no further talk on the subject.
During dinner, I ate, and I had indeed missed the cooking. There were just some things Gracey Manor could do right. But after dinner, when I went to my room, I noticed my father's portrait was gone. I briefly hoped that I would not find it in one of the various hallways. I walked out and eventually found where Ramsley had the painting placed. I wasn't pleased, but this wasn't something to fight over.
"I can have it moved elsewhere, should you decide," Ramsley said behind me. I had to stop myself from jumping because I had forgotten how Ramsley could simply appear and especially at inopportune times.
"It's fine," I said once my nerves settled.
"Which reminds me, we will need to have your portrait done. You haven't been painted since you were young, and it is long overdue," he said, appraising me. "And you need a new set of clothes for your current station in life."
His comment on not being painted since just before leaving for Oxford stung. Was I old? Surely not, though, I did notice a couple of unhelpful grey hairs sprouting at my temples.
"Ramsley, must I? It is nearly the 20th century, surely we can let go of some of these old traditions," I said.
"I shall send for the tailors to come out and have you fitted for some new coats," Ramsley said, ignoring my complaint.
"What is wrong with what I have?" When I was in England, I did make sure all of my clothes were properly mended and didn't look too shabby.
"You are no longer in university, and it is time you take up your ancestral birthright and therefore, must look the part. It is your duty to uphold the Gracey name, and I will not have people thinking everything your father built has gone to waste," Ramsley said tersely.
"Yes, Ramsley," I said like a rebuked schoolboy.
Ramsley's demeanor thawed almost instantly. "Very good. If you do not need me, I will make those appointments now."
I just nodded, and Ramsley disappeared as silently as he had come.
That evening I was sitting in the library reading. One thing I will give my father is he curated a fantastic library. Many were first editions, but that mattered less to me than the fact there was every book under the sun. I was reading a bit of Chaucer when Ramsley appeared in front of me.
"Pardon my late intrusion, sir, but I need to let you know of a current development, and I apologize to have to bother you so soon after your arrival and so late in the evening," he said.
"Oh?"
"My sister has passed away, and I must travel up north to attend to her funeral and situate her affairs."
I was a bit stunned. I was not aware Ramsley had a family, let alone a sister. To be honest, I had no idea where Ramsley came from. He has always just been around since I could remember. I couldn't imagine him growing up, let alone look younger.
"Oh, of course! Take all the time you need! You must be upset by this loss! I am so sorry to hear of your misfortune!" I said.
"I will only need a week, but I must ask that I depart tomorrow. I assure you I will have the staff working tirelessly in my absence, and you will not notice any change in service." His face did not betray any sadness or emotion and the way he put it, seemed like he was merely going to run an errand rather than attend the funeral of his own flesh and blood. Of course, he had already worked his whole trip out, and of course, he made sure his duties were situated. Perhaps that is why my father trusted and relied on him so much.
"I have no issue with you leaving tomorrow. If you need anything at all, please let me know! And please do not rush back here on my account, I am sure I can look after myself."
"Thank you, sir. Good night," he said, bowing and leaving.
I sat there reading for a while longer before considering what it meant that Ramsley would be gone for an entire week. I had never known him to be away for more than a day at most. The only time I ever saw him take personal time was the half-day on Sunday when he went to church in the morning but then resumed his post at exactly lunchtime. But it struck me that I might get to speak with Elizabeth uninterrupted. I wasn't going to spend all my time talking to her, but I just wanted to finish our conversation. Besides, as an employer, I should know about all my new employees, it was only right. I set my book down and decided I should go to bed. I am sure I won't be awake to see Ramsley off as I am sure he will depart at first light.
As I settled into bed, I wondered what this week would hold.