by Anna King
‘Oh Lord, ma’am, I’m terribly sorry! It was an accident, so it was. Someone pushed me from behind. Your pretty dress is ruined, so you’d best be away home to change. It would be unwise to stand around in wet clothes. You might catch a chill, and that could be dangerous… at your age, ma’am.’ Michael stood before the enraged old woman, the look of contrition on his face unable to mask the anger in his blue eyes.
‘You clumsy oaf, how dare you speak to a lady in such a fashion! You deserve to be horsewhipped!’ The young man had stepped forward, his pride so much wounded by Lady Caldworthy’s remark that he sought to find a way to assert his masculinity and restore his bruised ego. Celia Simpson’s hand clutching protectively at his arm boosted his courage, and drawing his shoulders back, he faced the tall dark-haired servant, ready to take his humiliation out on the easiest of prey; one of the lower classes. Patting the old woman’s hand tenderly, he stepped nearer to Michael, but any words he’d planned to say died on his lips as he stared into the steely eyes of the man before him.
‘It’s true what you say, sir. I deserve to be horsewhipped for my clumsy behaviour. If you would like to follow me round to the back of the house to mete out the punishment I deserve, I’ll not argue.’
The young man licked his lips nervously, his body shrinking at the thinly-disguised threat. Searching wildly for a way out of the situation, he nearly fainted with relief when the voice of his mistress came to his rescue.
‘Are you going to sit there and let a servant talk to one of his betters in a most insulting manner, Mabel?’ Celia’s voice had risen, causing people’s heads to turn. Many of them had witnessed the incident, but had been too far away to hear the ensuing argument. Now they moved closer, eager to see the outcome. Feeling the advantage slipping away from her, Celia quickly took hold of the now perspiring young man’s arm, and with as much dignity as she could muster, said, ‘Lord Caldworthy would turn in his grave if he could see how you’ve changed, Mabel! Taking in stray dogs and letting servants insult your guests without so much as a word of reprimand. But then, your husband was born into the nobility; you simply married into it, and it shows. Now I’ll bid you good day, Mabel. I’m sorry our long friendship had to end on such a sour note.’
Resisting the temptation to make a further retort, Lady Caldworthy watched as the odd couple swept through the gathering, and a small part of her could not but applaud Celia’s grand exit. Turning her head slightly, she looked at Michael, his hands still clenched by his sides, his face grim as he stared after the retreating pair. She could feel his anger and the reason for it, and a feeling of pity and acute anxiety swept over her. No man acted as he had done unless he had strong feelings for the woman involved. In spite of the hot summer day, she felt a chill settle on her.
Michael noticed her shiver, and asked, ‘Are you cold, ma’am? Shall I ask Rosie to fetch you a rug?’
She shook her head sadly. A rug wouldn’t banish the coldness she felt. Raising her eyes to his, she held his gaze for a long moment before shifting her attention to where Ruby stood over by the ornamental fountain, her long auburn hair shining like burnished gold in the sunlight as she looked over in their direction, a questioning look on her face.
‘If you’re sure you don’t need anything, ma’am, I’ll take the jug back to the kitchen and get it refilled,’ said Michael, bending down to pick it up. When it was safely back on the silver tray, he waited silently for a moment and then, his voice grave, he said, ‘Don’t worry, ma’am. It’s not broken. It was a mistake to put me in the role of butler; I’m not cut out for the job. In fact, ma’am, I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time I moved on. May I talk to you later after the guests have gone?’
‘That won’t be necessary, O’Brien. You have my permission to leave whenever you wish, and may I add my thanks for the work you have done on my behalf. And may I also say I think you have made a wise decision. There is nothing for you here, and I’m sure you don’t wish to remain a gardener all your life.’
Despite her steady tone, Michael was quick to pick up the note of relief in her voice. Bowing stiffly, he turned from her and made his way back into the house.
Lady Caldworthy watched him go with regret. There was no doubt that, despite his lowly garb, he was the best-looking man there today. And, if the truth be told, the best man there altogether. Compared to that pathetic excuse that had come with Celia, he had put the term ‘gentleman’ to shame with his strong overpowering character. Heaving a heavy sigh, she reflected upon the unfairness of the workings of the social order. Put a man like Michael O’Brien into fine clothes and give him money and power, and he would rise to the very pinnacle of success, while others who were born with these attributes merely wasted their time drifting from one trivial pursuit to another with nothing to show for their lives. But not all of them. No, not all of them!
Forcing a smile to her lips, she waved briefly to Ruby as she stood talking to Thomas Castleton, who seemed to be completely captivated by his companion. Yes, there was a young man who would be suitable for Ruby, if only she could arrange it. And if the Irishman was indeed leaving, it would give her more time in which to achieve her object.
Almost as if she’d conjured him up in her mind, Michael reappeared by her side, a brightly-coloured rug in his hands. ‘I took the liberty of fetching a rug, ma’am, if you’ll allow me to cover your legs. It’s turning a bit chilly now.’
Lady Caldworthy looked into his face, where the sudden resignation caused a deep sadness to settle on her. Her voice trembled slightly as, meeting his eyes, she whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’
Michael looked back at her and then, his voice weary, replied, ‘So am I, ma’am. So am I.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘You looked very beautiful today, dear, and young Thomas Castleton seemed to think so too. What did you think of him, Ruby? You appeared to be getting on very well.’ Lady Caldworthy sat upright in her bed, her head and shoulders propped up by a mountain of pillows. The long day had taken its toll on her old body, and although it wasn’t yet nine o’clock she was more than ready for her night’s sleep.
Ruby, too, was tired, tired and disappointed, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape to her own bed until she’d put the old lady’s mind at rest. ‘I had a marvellous day, ma’am,’ she said brightly. ‘I think it all went off very well. As for Thomas, he seems a nice young man and I enjoyed his company. Now, you rest and we can talk at length tomorrow.’
‘But did he ask if he could call on you?’ The owner of the thin high voice was determined to press for information.
Ruby heard the querulous tone, and sighed deeply. She knew only too well what Lady Caldworthy wanted to hear, but she could see no point in raising her hopes. Tucking the bedclothes tighter round the mattress, she said firmly, ‘Yes, he did ask if he could call, and I know that is what you wanted, but he is too nice a person to be trifled with, so I didn’t give him any encouragement.’
Seeing the look of distress that crossed the lined face, Ruby felt a pang of guilt, coupled with a strong sense of irritation. When was she going to be allowed to lead her own life, make her own choices? She knew Lady Caldworthy’s concern arose out of affection for her, but at this moment it made no difference. She needed to be by herself. Patting her trembling hand, she said briskly, ‘Now, no more questions. We’re both tired, so if there’s nothing more you want, I’ll take my leave.’
Without waiting for a reply, she walked away, her leg dragging heavily at her side. Once inside her own room, she sat down at her dressing table, then, cupping her face in her hands, she stared at the reflection in the mirror and whispered, ‘Coward!’
She had been determined to confront Michael today, and had fortified herself with numerous glasses of port, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself and she had lacked the courage to seek him out. The nearest she had come to him were the occasions when he had handed her and Thomas Castleton their drinks. She had felt the excitement mounting in her while trying
to maintain an air of nonchalance. Unaccustomed to the flattery of the young men present, she had turned to Michael, expecting to see the same admiration mirrored in his eyes, but he had looked at her with reproach, almost as though she’d somehow betrayed him. ‘Well, what did you expect him to do?’ she asked herself crossly. ‘Throw down the trayful of drinks and sweep you up into his arms in front of all those people? Oh, to hell with him!’
Impatiently she pulled at the diamond earrings, nearly tearing them from her lobes, and threw them down on the dressing table. Then, reaching round to the back of her neck, she fumbled with the clasp of the necklace before tossing it alongside them with a gesture of disgust. Damn it, why did her grandfather have to die and leave her dad all his money? After today she didn’t know where she belonged any more, she likened her situation to the old saying: ‘Neither fish, fowl nor good red meat.’ According to Lady Caldworthy and Lily, Michael was inferior to her in class, and she knew this opinion would be violently expounded if her dad found out her feelings for Michael. But on the other hand she was inferior in class to the kind of man Lady Caldworthy and her dad would like her to marry. Oh, it was true the young men today had shown her attention, but she had seen the furtive looks of suspicion and alarm in the eyes of their parents and grandparents at their offsprings’ attentions towards a companion, however grandly dressed.
She rose from the stool and began to take off her dress, wondering wistfully if she would ever have an occasion to wear it again. Folding it carefully, she laid it at the bottom of her wardrobe, and then limping back to her bed, she sat down. Her stump was hurting badly; she had hardly sat down all day, and the pressure of the wooden leg on her flesh was becoming unbearable. But before she could have the relief of removing it for the night, she must first go down to the kitchen and compliment Mrs Rodgers and the two girls on their excellent efforts. While she was there, she would get herself a cup of hot milk to help her to sleep, for although her body was tired to the bone, her thoughts were whirling so fast that she knew she would have difficulty in getting her much-needed rest.
Resisting the desire to sink onto her soft bed again, she urged herself into the small bathroom and quickly washed her face before returning to put on her navy wool dress. Then, with a quick look once more in her mirror, she nodded her approval at the change in her attire and left the room. Once out on the landing, she looked down at the circular stairway with dismay. Why was it that the stairs seemed to multiply when she was tired? Clinging to the polished banister, she began her slow descent, gritting her teeth against the sharp pains that were now coursing through her leg.
The first sight to meet her eyes as she entered the large cosy kitchen was Agnes sitting down, her head buried in her plump arms as she cried loudly, her shoulders heaving, while Rosie tried to comfort her. Hearing Ruby come into the room, Mrs Rodgers looked up, her kindly face filled with anxiety. ‘Oh, Miss Ruby, I’m glad you’ve come down. Maybe you can talk some sense into Agnes? She’ll make herself ill, carrying on like this!’
Startled and slightly embarrassed by the scene before her, Ruby walked over to Agnes’s side and laid a hand on her heaving shoulder. ‘What is it, Agnes? Who’s upset you?’ she asked gently.
The solicitous enquiry brought forth a fresh outburst of weeping from the distressed girl, and Ruby hurriedly removed her hand, looking across the room to Mrs Rodgers as if seeking an answer there, but the agitated cook merely shrugged, before saying, ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with her, Miss Ruby. She was out in the garden tidying up, all cheerful like; then she came rushing back in here crying and wailing like somebody’d just died! Me and Rosie have been trying to get some sense out of her, but she just keeps crying.’
Wearily Ruby shook her head. Whatever ailed Agnes would have to keep until tomorrow, for she was in no mood to cope with a hysterical girl tonight. ‘I think perhaps it would be wiser to leave her for a while until she calms down, Mrs Rodgers. As you said, it’s impossible to get any sense out of her while she’s like this. I’ll come down again later to speak to her if I can, but I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep as soon as I reach my room. I’m very tired this evening, as I’m sure you all are,’ she said, smiling. ‘Lady Caldworthy has asked me to thank you all for the marvellous way you coped today. It must have been very difficult for you all to maintain the high standard you did. Her ladyship realises that each of you had to treble your workload and she is very proud of you all. She especially asked me to convey her compliments to you, Mrs Rodgers, for the abundant supply of food. I myself heard many of the guests remarking on the excellence of your pies and pastries. I hope this won’t result in your being enticed away from us by one of today’s guests!’
The simple lie brought a beam of pleasure to Mrs Rodgers’s homely face. Smoothing down her spotlessly white apron, she said proudly, ‘Oh, there’s no fear of that happening, Miss Ruby. I’ve been with her ladyship for nearly 30 years, so I’m not going to change mistresses now! And may I say, Miss Ruby, how lovely you looked. I said to Rosie and Agnes as how you were better dressed than some of them so-called ladies. Didn’t I, Rosie?’ she enquired of the girl who stood by the still wailing Agnes.
‘She did, Miss Ruby, and me and Agnes agreed, you did look lovely. Were those jewels real, Miss Ruby? Oh, Agnes, give over, you’ll be sick in a minute,’ Rosie said sharply, her hand rocking Agnes’s shoulder faster as if consoling a crying infant, with as much success.
Ruby smiled faintly at the swift change of conversation. She had done her duty, and now she was anxious to get to her bed. Turning back to Mrs Rodgers, she asked, ‘May I have a cup of hot milk to take up with me? I don’t mind making it myself. You’ve done enough for one day.’
Sniffing loudly, Mrs Rodgers said indignantly, ‘You’ll do no such thing, Miss Ruby! Now you sit yourself down for a minute while I heat the milk.’
‘Thank you, and, Mrs Rodgers,’ Ruby paused, feeling uncomfortable at the attention she was receiving while poor Agnes continued to wail loudly, ‘it’s very kind of you to compare me to a lady, but I think I’m best suited to what I’m wearing now. But I’ll admit it was a nice change to dress up for the day.’ Turning to Rosie, she added, ‘As to your question, Rosie, yes, the jewels are real. They belonged to my grandmother, and today was the second time I’d had the opportunity to wear them.’ And in all probability the last, she thought sadly.
‘Here you are, Miss Ruby, nice and hot. Do you want Rosie to carry it upstairs for you?’
‘Oh, no, no thank you, I can manage. You get yourselves off to bed, I’ll see you all in the morning.’ She was about to take the steaming cup from Mrs Rodgers’s outstretched hand when she asked casually, ‘By the way, where’s Michael? Lady Caldworthy asked me to congratulate him for the excellent job he did in standing in for Mr Masters today.’
Before Ruby had finished speaking, a loud shriek erupted from Agnes, causing them all to jump. ‘Where’s Michael, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you where he is, the sly ungrateful bleeder! He’s packing his bags, that’s where he is, planning to do a moonlight flit. And if I hadn’t gone over to the lodge to ask if he was coming in for supper, he would have gone off without a word to anyone, the bastard. And after all I done for him, as well!’
Ruby looked down at the red blotchy face contorted with anger, and felt her stomach lurch with fear. Her eyes darted to the kitchen door that led out into the garden. She couldn’t believe it! He was leaving without a word to her. She couldn’t let him go, she couldn’t! The cup of hot milk slipped from her fingers, its steaming contents spilling out over the stone floor. Then the three women watched in amazement as she seemed to bound across the room, wrenching open the door before fleeing out into the dark night.
Mrs Rodgers stood silently watching the retreating figure, her mouth agape, her simple mind struggling to comprehend what had happened. Raising her startled gaze to the two girls who were also staring at the open door, she thought wildly, ‘Oh, no, not Miss Ruby and him, surely not? But why else d
id she fly out of the room like that?’ Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a fresh outburst from Agnes.
‘There, you see, Rosie! I told you, didn’t I, but you wouldn’t believe me. Said I was making it up, but I knew there was something going on between them!’ Agnes was on her feet now, all traces of tears gone, her chest heaving with righteous indignation. ‘Her with her hoity-toity ways, and all the time making eyes at a common gardener! That’s why he’s going. He doesn’t want to be stuck with a cripple hanging round his neck – even if her dad has got money,’ she shouted into the night, her voice dripping with scorn.
‘Shut up, Agnes,’ Rosie said quietly as she walked over to shut the kitchen door.
‘Don’t you tell me to shut up, Rosie Hawkins! I’m going to go up and tell her ladyship what’s been going on behind her back, you see if I don’t.’
As she started out of the room, Rosie pushed her back into the chair. Then, leaning over the irate figure, she told her, ‘You’re not going anywhere, Agnes. If what you say is true, then good for Miss Ruby; she deserves a bit of happiness. You’re just jealous because Michael didn’t want anything to do with you. We’ve all seen you following him around like a lapdog, not giving the poor man any peace. If it’s anyone’s fault he going, it’s to get away from you! Now, you sit still while I tidy up this mess on the floor, and if you try to move out of that chair you’ll find yourself alongside the spilt milk.’
Agnes stared back defiantly at her friend, her mouth working silently as she tried to find a way to retaliate, but the look in Rosie’s eyes stopped her. She had to be content with an exaggerated ‘humpphh’ before flouncing round on her chair, staring sullenly out of the large window into the night.
