The Maid and the Footman
Page 15
A bit like a cat toying with a mouse between her paws, he continued, “Now that we have concluded the formalities, I am curious about why you have come to see me. If you are seeking a change in your status…perhaps an elevation to first footman, that can be arranged, but neither here at Larchmont nor at Cecil House, I am afraid.”
Wilson was surprised. Was the older man playing with him? Was he really unaware that he was here for Annie? How could he imagine that he would exchange his love for a better position? Or, was Reynolds making this suggestion to test his intent? He is a sly old bugger, is he not?
Henry focused his rich blue eyes on the chocolate brown pair resting above the older man’s tented fingers.
“Mr. Reynolds, I do agree that I am here before you to appeal for a change in position. However, that alteration is not to be elevated just one step in my work.
“Rather, I am here to ask you to help me move from where I sit to the most exalted position that one of my stripe can hope for…
“That of husband.
“My life has never been easy, sir, from my earliest days as a babe in the kitchens of a waterfront taproom. I was blessed that a gentleman of the church discovered me and took me in. He taught me that there was more to life than thieving and drinking. Next it was the army for ten years. None of it gentle; most of it hard.
“Then I was led to the Cecil household by another good man, Charlie Tomkins. It was there that my world changed on the very first day.
“I met your daughter, sir; your sparkling, hopeful, resourceful and beautiful daughter. Falling in love with her was the easiest thing that I have ever done. She speared me with those incredible eyes and dropped me—me—to the floor with her pert smile.
“Anne Reynolds is the most genuine person I have ever met. Her heart is so filled with love that she does not need to measure it out bit by bit. She ladles it out to all around her, never stinting…never asking if the recipient is worthy.
“And, believe me, Mr. Reynolds, when I tell you that of all the men walking on the face of this earth, I am one of the least worthwhile of her notice. Yet, she has chosen to bestow her happy smile on my unhappy soul.
“I am terribly flawed, but she has helped me heal myself, to become a better man.
“I love your daughter, sir. I love her with every ounce of my being. If you will consent and offer your blessing, I would wish to ask her to become my wife.”
He paused and gulped before continuing, his face paling and his voice beginning to shake as it rose a half octave as his throat tightened, “But sir, if you cannot give your consent, I would ask you to allow me to accept your earlier offer. Send me to another Cecil property as a footman, a groom or a stable hand. I could not bear to remain at Cecil House and be near her, to spend my days hearing her voice and knowing that my deepest wish could never be.”
He stopped, beads of sweat across his brow, a look of apprehension and fear marking features used to staring down the bores of a thousand muskets backed by the muzzles of one hundred 36 pounders. Henry was terrified of what he would hear next.
Rather than torture him, Mr. Reynolds leaned back to regard the man before him.
This bullmastiff of a soldier is thoroughly unmanned at the prospect that I would not grant my consent to wed my daughter. Best to put him out of his misery.
“Sergeant, I may call you that, may I not? You look surprised as you never mentioned your rank. However, you do have some friends who did.”
He reached down to pull open a drawer and removed four letters that he then laid atop the desk.
“You see, Mr. Wilson, you have some advocates who have been very forceful in singing your praises. Mr. Hastings also wrote a private letter to me as well as the character he gave you. He told me that a giant would be visiting me to request my daughter’s hand in marriage. He suggested that I take you seriously as you are the best of men. You have no idea how much weight young Hastings’ urgings carry.
“Then there is the aforementioned General Fitzwilliam who advised that…” he picked up one note and glanced down at it, ‘...Sergeant Wilson has been so consumed by his feelings for one particular young lady that I fear he will be utterly useless to me and the realm if he cannot successfully conclude his suit.’
“While I am acquainted with the General, I was also surprised to receive another missive—this one from someone unknown to me, a Captain Ian Fleming. He extolls your virtues in particularly colorful terms. Must be because he is a fellow Scotsman. We have been known to be a bit expressive.
“However my dear man, the most singular correspondence comes from my child herself. After the usual pleasantries, she begs me to hear you out if you come to my door. Then she suggests that she will rain down her own particular brand of the fires of Hell if I tease you or in other ways abuse your sincerity.
“Something you will learn, son, is that women have their own unique image of how men ought to behave, even when there are no women about.”
He stood upright and walked to the sideboard where he uncorked a dark green bottle and poured two fingers of amber liquid into two crystal tumblers.
“The Scots call this uisge beatha…the water of life. You know that we Reynolds hail from north of the border like Captain Fleming. We have wetted promotions, births, deaths…and weddings…with this finest example of the distiller’s skill.” Handing a glass to Wilson, he pulled a bell cord that drew a young footman to the room.
Reynolds hardened his voice, “Please locate General Fitzwilliam upstairs. Advise him that his presence is needed here and escort him to us.”
Then he turned back to Henry and said, “I thought that the General would appreciate a wee dram himself to help us celebrate your promotion, if she will have you, to the married state and to become a man I would be proud to name my son.”
Chapter XXVIII
The Twelfth Night Ball, Burghley House
“Reynolds, please join me for a moment in my dressing room,” Lady Mary requested.
“Yes, my Lady.” Annie halted her traverse of the family wing at Burghley to tend to her ultimate mistress’ gently worded command.
As she followed Lady Mary into her chambers, Annie wondered what her Cecil matriarch wanted.
“Not that I have nothing else to do…” sarcastically crossed her mind. Annie momentarily abused herself for being uncharacteristically snide in thought. It had already been quite a long day, beginning not unusually before dawn, but continuing without the any respite. Unlike other ladies of the ton, Lady Mary was always kindness itself and did not deserve any bile. Annie chalked up her reaction to weariness.
Lady Mary walked to a vanity adjacent to her dressing table. Picking up a large hat box, she turned back to the maid, handed it to her and said with a smile, “Open it, Reynolds.
“I wanted you to see this first.”
There nestled inside was a head form crowned with golden locks. Lady Mary carefully reached inside and lifted it out. Annie was confused since Lady Mary was a light brunette. Why would she desire a blonde wig?
Seeing her confusion, Lady Mary quickly placed the form on her dressing table and addressed the maid.
“Oh, Annie, this is not for me. Do you not recognize the hair? This is for her—this is Miss Bennet’s own hair. You saved it for her.
“Remember that awful day when Dr. Campbell shaved her head? You bundled her hair and placed it in the Gold Suite’s wardrobe. Sarah discovered the pillow case and brought it to me.”
Comprehension dawned and Annie’s widened eyes spoke volumes, “Oh, my Lady. I feared it had been taken out with the trash and left in the dustbin when the chambermaids cleaned up after the surgery.
“This is Miss Bennet’s hair? Oh my! It is so beautiful! You have turned it into a wig…and styled so elegantly, too. Are you going to give it to her today for the ball?”
Lady Mary smiled, “Well, yes. While I am giving it to her, this is really your gift—one of friendship and love. Without your clear thinking, Miss Bennet would
look less the lady than she really is.
“Nobody in the family thinks that, but the tabbies of the ton are always looking for weakness. Bad enough that they will pounce on her eye, but my father will address that tonight. Her hair, however, has not grown in enough to be styled in any manner that will not have her looking like a convict.
“With all of our expectations about the General tonight, nothing should detract from her joy. The wig eliminates one source of worry. That is the essence of your gift.
“Now please go into Miss Bennet. We will join you in her chambers about a half hour before we must descend. Let us keep this little secret between the two of us for the moment. Even her mother, aunt and sister are ignorant of this.”
After the wig had been gifted and properly fastened over Miss Bennet’s short coiffure, all of the women, having made the appropriate levels of “ooohs” and “aaahs,” prepared to leave the room when Miss Bennet called out,
“You go ahead. I will attend you in a moment. I realized that I must do one last thing.”
After all but Annie had cleared the doorway, Kitty reached over to her, happiness suffusing her face, the glow accentuated by the brilliant green of Margaret’s bedazzled eye patch.
“Annie, you are a dear. I know that it was you who had the foresight to save my hair. Lady Mary is a wonderful woman, but I doubt if she would have crossed the threshold into a sickroom with all the blood and other unpleasantness.
“Oh, I know I looked frightening…the General has related bits and pieces of what he saw. And I observed the bruises on my chest when you and Sarah changed my night rail.
“I cannot express my thankfulness…and not only because you saved my hair. You have been my friend, never judging me, always putting my health and happiness before even yours.
“Tonight, though, I anticipate that my life’s dreams will be fulfilled with the General’s expressions of his love.
“And now, my sweet friend, you have to think of your own joy. Oh, do not pretend you do not know about what I speak. My sister has the eyes of an eagle. She can see how that man moons over you.
“Even I,” she continued, “with but one could not miss that you have captured Henry’s heart.”
Annie blushed deeply at this last, but did not speak.
“Well, enough of that. Just know that our futures await us tonight.”
The early hours of the Marquess’ Ball have been related in other accounts.[xlviii] The Bennets, Gardiners and Poldarks were amongst the first into the ballroom to avoid the rigors of the receiving line—it had been felt that Kitty needed to husband her energies to fully partake of the evening. They kept a close family gathering in an exclusive alcove: Wilson taking up his station behind Kitty’s seat on a plush sofa. If they were affected by the pointed lack of notice accorded them by the other guests, the folk from London, Hertfordshire and Cornwall did not show it.
Actually, that was not completely accurate. Wilson’s scowl became progressively deeper as the room filled with not a single soul deigning to cross the floor to greet the group and extend the felicitations of the season. He was angered on two counts—both rising from his sense of loyalty. Not only were they according clan Bennet considerable disrespect, they were also implicitly scorning the head of the Cecil family who had issued the invitation to Miss Bennet and her family. Henry would willingly die for either.
The picture changed after the ceremonial introductions. Once the alcove became the mustering point for every Cecil and Matlock family member, the social climbers and self-important had to stop looking down their rather long in-bred noses at the poor, deformed woman—a governess, really—and the gentleman from trade, Mr. Gardiner and the other gentleman who earned his money from copper ore rather than rents, Mr. Poldark. The Marquess’ speech honoring Miss Bennet and awarding her a 10,000-pound dowry was nearly anticlimactic. Once the General had arrived to take charge of Miss Bennet, Wilson relaxed to a degree.
While Wilson idled in the ballroom, Annie was hard at work in one of the ladies’ retiring rooms. She had just begun mending a torn hem. Her subject had mounted a small platform so that the maid could kneel and perform the necessary repairs. Her head may have been down, but her ears were open when the young woman on the riser and another of her acquaintances began tearing into Miss Bennet.
“Honestly, can you countenance this? We have to share the room with the stench of trade? All because the eccentric Marquess has taken a fancy to his granddaughter’s governess? My Grandpapa dallied with my governesses all the time and never paid them off to the tune of 10,000 pounds. It cannot be borne.
“Really, she was injured because she failed at her job. She should have been turned out without character.”
“I know, Letty, it is utterly disgusting. She is hideous, sitting there with that giant footman guarding her like she was the Princess Royal. And then there is General Fitzwilliam…”
“Can you believe that? He has hardly left her side with the exception to stand up with that dumpy country bumpkin who must be her mother. I know what a real man like the Baron wants…and it is not some country chit with one eye.”
The sniping and gossiping continued in that manner until the two women swept out of the room to return to the festivities. Annie continued to keep her head lowered well after the two shrews had departed. Hot angry tears still clouded her vision. But her respite was brief as another fine lady called for her attention.
Somewhere in the midst of the third set, the room emptied as if a wand had been waved. The maids took the time to collect their wits after the early rush. They tended to their own personal needs, stretched out aching muscles and chatted softly among themselves.
Then one of the seamstresses who had ventured down to the kitchens to bring back an urn of tea rushed in.
“Girls! The room is in an uproar. The General has just proposed to Miss Bennet, and she has accepted him. You should see the ring he gave her. I imagine good Queen Charlotte has nothing quite as fine!”
All there gave a cheer as Miss Bennet was universally loved as “one of the good ones.” Annie’s heart lifted, and she settled into a seat to quietly enjoy her tea.
Chapter XXIX
Newly betrothed Kitty Bennet gave Richard Fitzwilliam’s hand a quick squeeze to get his attention. Once she had his eye, she tipped her head toward the library’s door giving him the universal sign saying ‘Let us make our escape.’ Nobody was paying them any attention. After all, the eight women had an entire society wedding to plan in just two months. Cecil, Matlock, Poldark, Gardiner and Bennet were each laying claim to their own desired nugget. The newly engaged pair was only necessary for the final day’s events—some two months away.
Once they were out in the main hallway, Kitty paused and turned into Richard’s arms. Gazing up at him, she gave a dramatic sigh and threw her right arm across her forehead with Lydia’s copper bracelet burnishing her wrist. She lamented in a wilted voice, “Oh my, I am so weak. Why, it must be at least thirty minutes since I have been thoroughly kissed. Whatever am I to do?”
Richard chuckled, “Well, milady, you have come to the right place. Poor Richard’s Emporium of Nostrums and Nunsuch is certain to have just what you need. I first must examine you to be sure that I provide the correct cure. This may take some time.”
And it did.
The couple finally broke at the sound of a discrete cough from the library’s doorway. Fitzwilliam looked over the top of Kitty’s head to see Lydia standing there with her hands on her hips. The youngest sister reached up and tapped her index finger by her right eye. She then pointed directly at the couple, but Richard knew the message was meant for him.
What is it with these Bennets? First the mother and now the daughter. Nothing escapes them…and they are more than happy to let you know that.
Kitty looked over her shoulder at her sister and stuck her tongue out at her.
“You are such a mama he
n, Lydie. We were just making sure we had not forgotten anything. You do recall that there is one unfinished piece of business here tonight.”
Lydia giggled, “Yes, sister, you are correct, as usual. Well, the two of you had best get on with it. Send us a dispatch when the deed is done.”
Kitty moved off in search of a maid to take a message to Annie. Richard had some matters to discuss with the other player in the upcoming production. He ambled back toward the ballroom.
Annie stepped into the Blue Parlor to await her Mistress’ arrival. The note had been vague, just indicating that Miss Bennet would meet her in this room.
Probably needs to have her wig re-pinned. I imagine
With everyone seated for dinner at the other end of the house, this elegant room was empty. A cheery coal fire popped and sizzled in the grate, giving the room a distinctive reddish brown cast. Annie dug into her memory trying to recall where she had seen such a shade before; searching about for something that nagged at the edges of her conscious thought. It was about that color; like gossamer floating just out of her reach…until suddenly it snapped into focus.
Titian…that is the color named after the Venetian artist who portrayed many of his women subjects with auburn hair. I remember when young Mr. Darcy returned to Pemberley from his Grand Tour with one of the Master’s portraits of a young lady. Her hair was exactly the same hue![xlix]