“Their things would never fit,” Iris said. She retrieved three books. “And look at these: Robinson Crusoe, Pride and Prejudice, and The Three Musketeers.“
“The last one’s my favorite,” Danny said. “Just like us. We’re the Three Musketeers. All for one and one for all!”
Annie leafed through the pages and looked at the spines. They were fine editions. “Where did you get these?”
“I borrowed them from the master’s library. He’ll never miss ’em.”
“And if he does?”
Danny shook his head. “Nobody ever comes up here. This is the castoff room, right, bug?”
Iris nodded.
His term of endearment made Annie ask, “Why ‘bug’?”
Iris answered. “Cuz I hate ’em. Can’t stand the crawly things and how they crunch when you step on ’em.”
Annie laughed. “Brothers do like to pester, don’t they?”
Danny winked at his sister. “I wouldn’t pester you if I didn’t love you.” He looked to Annie. “Did your brother pester you?”
She thought a minute. “He used to hide my hairbrush.”
“Any reason?”
“Because he always got in trouble for not combing his hair, he was such a yob, wanting me to get in trouble with him.”
“I’ll have to remember the brush thing,” Danny said.
“No, you don’t!”
Annie spotted a row of gilt-edged chairs, stacked two each. “You say this is the castoff room, but those chairs are posh.”
“They were posh enough until Mrs. Friesen decided to redo the dining room last year.”
It seemed like such a waste, yet who was she to complain? The Friesens’ fickleness made for a fabulous nest among the rafters.
She eyed Danny’s makeshift bed. “Maybe I could sleep in here so we wouldn’t have to share a bed.”
“We don’t dare,” Iris said. “If someone came for you in our room and you weren’t there … We don’t want anyone to ever find out about this room. It’s our secret.”
“A secret you shared with me.”
Danny sat upright. “I do believe you’ve proved yourself trustworthy.”
“And how have I done that?”
Danny moved to the window and pressed his hand against the glass as if challenging the raindrops to touch him. “You want something more. Just like us.”
She remembered. “A shopgirl, an adventurer, and a lady’s maid.”
Danny wrinkled his nose. “Your dream is too small. At least Iris and I want to be something besides a servant.”
Servants … “Did you hear the preacher talk about being servants of the Lord?”
“Sure. Getting up early and working late.” Danny huffed against the pane then wrote his name in the fog.
“It’s got to mean more than that. He was talking about it for everyone, not just us.”
“The Friesens being servants? I don’t think so.” Danny rubbed the condensation off the window with his sleeve.
“God is their master just like they are ours.”
He shook his head. “Too many masters.”
Iris took her turn on the pile of cushions, not seeming to mind that her calves showed beneath her jumble of skirt and petticoat. “Being God’s servants sounds high and good, but surely there’s more for us than emptying chamber pots, or keeping the brass shining, or scrubbing a tub. None of those things sound like they’re God’s orders for us. At least I hope not.”
Danny lifted his arm toward the sky and proclaimed, “I will strike you down for that, Iris Dalking! How dare you question Me!”
“Sorry, Lord,” Iris said. “I know I shouldn’t complain about what we do, and how hard it is. After all, God worked hard creating the world and all that.”
Annie smiled. “And all that.”
“But our work does get old, boring, and pointless. We do the chores then have to do them again the next day. A circle of chores that never ends.”
“Don’t you think there are repetitive tasks working in a shop?”
“Of course. But stocking shelves and getting to be around pretty things … and every day new customers will come in. That won’t be boring at all.”
Annie moved to the window next to Danny’s, and Iris joined them at the third window. They could see the mansion across the street but were up too high to view the street below, or much of anything else beyond the roof and a few chimneys. “I would so like to see New York while I’m here.”
“Next Sunday,” Danny said. “I promise.” He huffed on the pane again and wrote his name a second time. “See? I give you my signature, now you give me yours.”
Annie did the same on her pane, and Iris followed suit.
“As I said, we’re the Three Musketeers,” Danny said.
They laughed together as their names faded away.
Miss Henrietta stood before the full-length mirror in her room as Miss Dougard attempted to fasten the hooks at the back of the lavender day dress. There was a good half-inch gap between hook and eye. After grunting and groaning, Miss Dougard gave up. “Perhaps the blue lawn?”
“I want this dress. I want to wear my straw hat with the lilac sprigs, so it has to be this dress.” Miss Henrietta nodded to Annie. “You’re a strong girl, you try.”
Miss Dougard stepped away with a “you have a go” look. Annie took a fortifying breath then realized how insulting that might have seemed to her mistress. Luckily, Miss Henrietta didn’t seem to notice.
Minding the impossible gap, and knowing there wasn’t time to remove the bodice and tighten the already tight corset, Annie got an idea. “Would you please try to make your shoulder blades touch, miss?”
“What?”
“Put your shoulders back as far as they will go.”
Her mistress thrust her ample chest forward and did as she was told. “There now,” Annie said. “Hold that.” She hurriedly fastened the hooks. The one at the waistline was the most difficult, but even it was secured. “Done! You can relax. Carefully, please.”
Miss Henrietta slowly drew her shoulders forward. The hooks and eyes strained but held. She turned to face Annie. “Well done! Thank you. Now for the hat.”
Annie assisted Miss Dougard by holding the hat pins. It was a lovely hat, so she could understand why her mistress wished to wear it to the tea at Mrs. Belmont’s. Annie chastised herself for not checking the fit of the lavender dress before they sailed for New York.
For there was still a problem. While seated, Miss Henrietta’s bosom became the focus of her presence, as it was pressed to overflowing atop the squared neckline. The lace inset leading to the high collar strained against it. Annie vowed to alter the dress after this day’s wearing was done so it would be ready the next time.
“I’ll need my reticule and my shawl,” Miss Henrietta said.
Annie had gathered the purse when the bedroom door burst open and Lady Newley strode in. “Come, Henrietta. You are making everyone late.”
With a fit and fluster, Miss Henrietta grabbed the purse from Annie and followed her mother downstairs.
“She does not look seemly,” Miss Dougard said as she tidied up. “She looks like a sausage overflowing its casing.”
It wasn’t that awful—though nearly. “I’ll take out the dress when she returns.”
“I don’t think there’s a smidgen left in the seams. I was against her bringing that dress at all.”
“Perhaps I could add a gusset in the side seams?”
Miss Dougard eyed her over her glasses. “What do you know of gussets?”
Annie wasn’t sure where she’d heard the term. “It would work, would it not?”
“You have no fabric to match.”
“Perhaps we could go out and get some.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know where, but if there’s a fashion problem, it needs to be addressed. She’ll want to wear the dress again.”
“The fashion problem has nothing to do with the dress and much to do w
ith the lack of self-control of the woman wearing it.”
It was a cruel statement, though Annie couldn’t contest it.
Suddenly she spotted the shawl draped over a chair. “She forgot her shawl!”
“Run on then. Catch them if you can.”
Annie sprinted down the stairs to the front entrance where Mrs. Friesen and Lady Newley were just entering a carriage, with Miss Henrietta last in line. Annie stepped forward. “Your shawl, miss.”
Henrietta smiled. “Thank you, Annie.”
Annie retreated toward the door, but as she passed Grasston, the footman said, “I hope that shawl’s big enough to cover the big fat hen.”
Annie was so shocked she stopped to face him. “How dare you. Show some respect.”
He shrugged. Annie glanced to the carriage and saw by the look on Miss Henrietta’s face that she’d overheard the rude words.
If Annie could have gotten away with slapping him, she would have left a mark on his cheek.
Annie was just finishing a cup of tea in the servants’ hall when she heard the call bell for Miss Henrietta’s room. “That’s me,” she said. “They must be back.”
Once upstairs she rapped lightly on her mistress’s door before entering, and was surprised to see that Miss Dougard was not present. “Yes, miss?”
Her mistress was still wearing her hat and had not begun to change clothes for the afternoon. She extended the shawl toward Annie. “Thank you for bringing my shawl.”
“You’re welcome.” Annie folded it smooth. “Would you like me to help you change?”
She gave a quick shake of the head then a nod. “Yes, but first … I want to thank you for defending me this morning.”
Annie wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
“That footman?”
Ah. “Please don’t take to heart anything he says. He’s a bounder. From what I’ve seen he has the manners of a dustman—though perhaps that’s offending the latter.”
Miss Henrietta smiled. “Be that as it may, I know what people think of me. I’m too young to be so … corpulent. Mother says I’ll never find a husband if I don’t trim myself up.”
Annie could imagine Lady Newley saying such a thing—and not kindly. Especially since she was still a very handsome woman.
“Many men prefer a voluptuous woman,” Annie said.
Henrietta looked down at her chest. “Voluptuous is fine, but fat is not.”
Annie wasn’t sure what her mistress wanted from her. Unfortunately, the vast menus that would fill the family’s dining fare in New York would test Miss Henrietta’s willpower past its limit.
“The dress can be altered to fit.”
Miss Henrietta shook her head. “I don’t want any more adjustments. I want to fit into this dress—which is one of my favorites. Perhaps overhearing the footman’s comments was what I needed, for it has spurred me to take action and become a better, more desirable woman.”
Annie admired her attitude but was distressed regarding its core. “You do whatever you wish to feel good about yourself, miss. But know that as you are, you have much to offer any man.”
Miss Henrietta looked to the floor. “You are sweet, and I appreciate your words.” She moved to the dressing table and allowed Annie to remove her hat.
After the evening meal, Annie headed toward the back stairs. Suddenly Grasston grabbed her arm and dragged her into the laundry. Two women ironing sheets looked up. He put his back to them and faced Annie. She yanked her arm away. “What are you doing? Leave me alone.”
“Sorry,” he said under his breath so the workers wouldn’t hear. “But you’ve made that impossible.”
“What did I do to you?”
“You made Mr. Brandon give me a reprimand.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Someone did. I’ve been demoted to second footman for a week.”
So the news of Grasston’s nasty comments had made their way to the butler’s ears. “It serves you right for being so rude. Miss Henrietta is a wonderful woman and a guest in this house.”
He took a step toward her, his grin smug. “A big, fat, ugly guest.”
“You are the ugly one. Ugly inside and out.”
Grasston grabbed her chin and squeezed it hard. “You’d better watch out, Annie Wood. You can’t hide from me.” He let go of her chin then swatted her behind before exiting the room.
Annie didn’t know what to do. The two washerwomen stared at her, their eyes revealing their shock and compassion. But to acknowledge what they’d seen would make it worse, so Annie left the room and fled to the safety of the hideaway.
“Here you are,” Danny said as he entered their attic gathering place. “Your mistress has been ringing for you, and Miss Miller sent me to find you.”
Annie sat upright on the pile of cushions. “I needed some time alone.”
“Not allowed. Not before the family goes to bed. You know that.”
She nodded and held out her hand. He helped her to her feet, and she smoothed her skirt and apron. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
He put a gentle hand on her arm. “What happened to upset you?”
Annie shook her head and left to find Miss Miller. Telling Danny about Grasston would not better the situation.
Nothing would.
CHAPTER THREE
After breakfast, Annie noticed the butler and housekeeper talking one-on-one with Danny. The butler handed him a note and with a hand upon his shoulder and the point of his finger gave him some instruction. Danny nodded, turned to walk away, and then turned back and asked a question. Both adults looked in Annie’s direction, though past her. She turned around and saw Iris at the doorway. She heard a few more mumbled words then saw Danny leave the conversation with an enormous grin on his face.
“Come on,” he whispered as he passed Annie. Danny corralled his sister, and the three of them found some privacy in the basement corridor.
“Why are you grinning so?” Annie asked.
“Mr. Brandon asked me to take a message to the Franklins, and Mrs. Grimble wants me to pick up a recipe for raspberry meringue pudding from their cook.”
“You get to leave?” Annie said. “Lucky bloke.”
“I asked if Iris could come along and they said yes—as long as she got her chores done.”
Iris kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll work at double speed.”
Annie was happy for them but sad she was being left behind. But then Danny said, “Can you do your chores at double speed, Annie?”
Hope sped through her like a breath of fresh air. “Me? You want me to go, too?”
Danny glanced down the corridor where other servants bustled about the day’s chores. “Just don’t say anything to the rest of them.”
Annie made a locking motion at her lips. “What time should we go?”
They each took a moment to weigh their tasks. Annie was the first to speak. “The Kidds are going to a charity luncheon at one. Perhaps after they leave?”
“One fifteen, then,” Danny said. “Meet at the kitchen entrance.”
“Outside the kitchen entrance,” Annie said. “It will increase my chances of not being noticed.”
Suddenly the butler’s voice echoed down the corridor. “Mr. Dalking? Miss Dalking? Have you nothing to do, because if you don’t, I’m sure Mrs. Grimble can find something—”
“No, sir. Yes, sir. We’re going.”
Yes, they were.
Annie was torn.
Should she ask Lady Newley for permission to leave with Danny and Iris? Or should she ask Miss Miller for permission? Or …?
Miss Miller’s headache determined the answer to both questions. With Miss Miller indisposed—with instructions not to be disturbed—it was up to Annie and Miss Dougard to help their two mistresses get dressed for their outing. Lady Newley was the easier of the two, as the time helping Miss Henrietta was once again consumed with getting her dresses to fit. The chance for Annie to do any asking for anything at any tim
e never presented itself.
As soon as the ladies were on their way, Miss Dougard informed Annie she was going to take a nap and she, too, wished not to be disturbed, thus closing the final door on permission.
Permission or not, she was going.
Annie rushed up the back stairs to her room to find Iris already getting changed into her street clothes.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Iris asked.
Annie wasn’t sure exciting was the correct term for a simple errand, but she was very happy to be able to get out of the house. In a dash both girls were dressed and ready. At the last moment, Annie removed her hat. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ll put it on when I get outside.”
“Should I go first?” Iris asked.
Perhaps. Annie let Iris leave the room and waited a short time before venturing out behind her. Her stomach was in double knots. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by leaving for a short time, yet she knew she wasn’t doing anything right, either. In spite of it all, she found bending the rules exhilarating.
What was it about America that made her think beyond what was into what could be?
As she approached the basement, Annie walked on her toes, slowing to check for witnesses. She heard the sound of workers in the laundry and saw a scullery maid moving from the storage closet to the kitchen. But otherwise the coast was clear. Tucking her hat beneath her arm, she slipped outside. She spotted Danny and Iris, but as she moved toward them, Grasston stepped out of the shadows.
“Well now. Who have we here?” He dropped the stub of his cigarette and ground it with his toe.
Annie ignored him, strode past, and linked arms with Iris.
“I’ll see you later, Annie Wood.”
She walked faster. As soon as they reached the street, Iris asked, “What did he do to you? You’re practically trembling.”
Danny stepped in front of the girls, stopping them. “If he hurt you in any way …”
The fact Danny assumed such a thing spoke volumes. “Has he hurt other girls?”
Danny’s glance at Iris revealed the truth of it.
“Did he hurt you, Iris?” Annie asked.
“Not hurt me, but bothered me in a way I didn’t like. At all.”
The Pattern Artist Page 3
