42. Boxing Day

The next day, being the 26th December, or Boxing Day, our sleep was not disturbed by Barclay's usual knock-knock, pause, knock-knock. If Barclay hasn't brought my washing/shaving water, I usually wake about the time for Reveille - I wish I didn't, but years in the army will do that to you. However, Barclay, like the rest of the servants, had been given the day off today, and my mother and I both slept through, past our usual times.

When we did wake, it was to a bright light coming into the room through the gaps in the curtains.

I did not move at first, except to prop myself up on my elbow, I just looked at Helena in the clean light of the new morning. She lay next to me, still asleep, her hair spread out across the pillow. Her face was calm and her breathing shallow and almost silent, motionless apart from fact the gentle rising and falling of her breasts. It seemed unreal - normally my mother would be back to her room by now, and here she was, as if she belonged there.

Which she truly did, of course.

For a few moments, it was as if any impediments, any of the proprieties which govern our society did not exist, that she really was my wife. I knew that there were no rules against us being man and wife, not in law. But I was now coming to recognise that marriage to Helena might be more of a pipe dream than a possibility. I had not taken into account how such a move would affect our position and status. It was still my goal to spend my life with her, but the choices that we make affect other people and sometimes we have to choose one way when we really want to choose another. Even so, looking at her there and imagining her as my wife made my heart ache. Deuce! It felt like it was meant to be.

Lost in my musings, I realised that Helena was looking back up at me, her beautiful grey eyes watching me watching her.

She reached out and touched my face, and as if she could read my thoughts, Helena said, "We will find a way to make this work out. You are already more of a husband to me than your father ever was."

She sat up and it was all I could do not to lower my head and suckle on her newly revealed breasts. When I moved my head, she brought her hands up and shuddered as if being tickled, "Please? No! I need the pot and we should rise."

While Helena was relieving herself into the chamber pot, I opened the curtains of my room, and the reason for the brightness of the light was revealed. The clouds of the previous day were gone, and the morning sun shone down upon a blanket of snow that was fresh fallen in the small hours of the night. The great park at Rogeringham Hall extended before me, smooth and glistening white. No foot print marred the covering, no wind whipped across its surface, just a field of pristine white, reflecting the sunshine. The trees around the house were stark and black, countering the acres of whiteness, and a cloudless blue sky looked down upon the scene. It was a sight to take your breath away.

I had to tear myself away from drinking in the beauty of the morning to wash and dress. I assisted Helena in washing. Barclay had left us a pitcher of water next to the fire; it had retained some warmth, and it was certainly better than using cold water. Helena put on her night gown and her banyan to go to her own room to dress, then I washed, shaved and dressed for the day.

Mrs Ellis, the house-keeper, had assigned one cook to work today on the promise of two days off in return, so we had a buffet style breakfast, and an idle sort of day ahead of us.

I intended to spend the morning in my study, I had discovered that my father had several interesting books on new ideas with regard to science and engineering. I assume that he had acquired them because he saw something of potential use. In fact, Henry and I spent the morning talking as I rummaged through the books. I did not discover anything useful but the conversation between Henry and myself more than made up for that.

We had a long and very involved discussion, and it was very much one of equals. I found it very easy to ignore any social differences between Henry and myself when we talked. I have remarked before on his intelligence and his ordered mind, qualities which made him an excellent footman but otherwise were largely wasted in that role. This suited him much better, as, because of these valuable qualities, I found I was able to explore my ideas with him, and due to his perception - or perhaps because of his experiences - when Henry commented on something, he often added a new perspective or a new approach.

The main aim of our conversation was the task of getting our accounts and management back into order. I found the accounting system commonly used vague and annoying. Put simply, what monies went into the system were not what always came out. It disturbed my sense of order. It was not the actual method of recording and accounting that was at fault. But the actual management of monies, within the estate. What went in should be equal to what came out, however altered. It should be possible to say 'well, that sum went here' and 'that money went there'. Instead, we had amounts that disappeared along the way. It was disorderly. I did not like the vague amounts that made up the estate, I wanted to know exactly what monies were where, so that when it was called upon, it could be precisely located.

The upshot of our discussion was that we both envisioned that Henry's role - as it had been, as my steward, would expand. It was, we agreed, more than just the Buckinghamshire properties, there were those, but there were also my father's commercial and industrial interests, and the London properties. Henry suggested an office in the village to act for the whole estate, with several staff to support him. Good book keeping is essential, and should be done from a central place, and as accurately as possible, so I thought that this was a good suggestion.

"What about the skimming?" I asked. It was endemic to the British system, and it was this that made a precise accounting such a nightmare.

"Pay better." Henry said bluntly. "Ensure that everyone is paid a fair wage and that it is clear that skimming is considered to be theft."

It was an interesting idea and I said that I would consider it. And I would, but I had had another idea, and one that I hoped would help in several ways. I wanted to start employing old soldiers when I could. My reasoning was that they were often people who were deserving of employment, who were disciplined of habit and, if they were physically capable, were used to working hard.

To be sure, there were people who had not followed the colours who were fully deserving of employment, and who were equally competent. But the number of ex-soldiers one saw upon the streets of the city and the lanes of the countryside was growing. Not all had been as fortunate as I, so doing this was important to me. My plan, such as it was, was to staff an estate office with these men, and find other projects where I could make use of them.