“My dear, thank goodness you got back safely!” The countess called in the direction of the foyer. “I saw the clouds and worried you’d be caught out in a storm.” 

“Your concern is touching mother, but I hope you think me more prudent than that.” There was an unspoken strain to both their smiles. The daughter dismounted and handed the horse off to a stableboy. 

“I think I ought to rest in the sun room awhile, before changing,” she said.

“Yes, I think you ought.” Her mother replied. 

She stepped over the various objects on the floor, the ones they told the housekeepers not to touch. The kitchen knife had concerned the hired help at first, but now they knew better than to ask. However, no one was ever able to forget its presence in the hall. 

“Did you see anyone on your ride?” Her mother called from just outside the doorway. 

“No, and I had rather hoped to run into the Bensens, maybe invite them over for tea.”

There was a pause as the words were absorbed, and then, “I think we’re out of tea.” 

They both knew they had never been in the habit of keeping tea. 

The afternoon dragged on, until the rain finally came as it turned dusk. The daughter enjoyed a bath to the sounds of the rain as it hit the roof. She spent a bit too long rinsing her hair underwater, until her lips turned blue and her fingers were wrinkled. After it had gone cold, she became aware of someone pulling the plug. 

After dressing herself she walked into the kitchen to find dinner being made, a roasted duck and plain potatoes to celebrate another uneventful week. As they sat to wait in accustomed silence, they heard a knock on the door. The butler looked at his mistress with a wordless question, and she spoke aloud her reply. 

“Go on and see who’s at the door.” 

A young man of average appearance stood on the front step, dripping water onto the expensive tile they had imported just for this occasion. The butler simply stared until the man spoke. 

“Could I trouble you for a towel and a bit of shelter? This rain is dreadful.” The butler nodded and turned as he let him through. He directed him to the kitchen, where the man took notice of the disarray on the floor, and the unpolished wood underneath. 

“Who is the master of this house?” He asked, just before entering the room where the women were seated. 

“I am.” The mother replied with a saccharine smile, quite used to the question. “Why don’t you have a seat?” 

“Thank you, that would be lovely.” He said, sighing as he eased himself into the chair at the head of the table. “Could I have a spot of tea as well?”

“Why of course.” She replied, heading towards the hall to fetch it for him, as the butler, who had been standing off to the side, went to close the door.