by Erin Grace
A deep sigh came from Annabelle as she placed her cup and saucer up the table. ‘We shall miss you, Nellie. Lily and I did so enjoy our visits here.’
‘Oh, dear girls, I promise to come see you both again very soon. I have enough money now to allow me the odd treat. So, don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me so easily. And speaking of goodbyes, Lily, you look as if you are going on a voyage.’
‘Lily is to be a lady’s maid at Etford Park.’ Even Annabelle’s chirpy tone couldn’t make the news sound better.
‘Etford? What a wonderful opportunity.’ Nellie raised an eyebrow and met her uncertain gaze. ‘Though it would seem you don’t think so, my dear?’
She pasted a smile on her lips. ‘Henrietta arranged it.’
‘I see. And you don’t wish to go?’
‘Oh, please don’t think me ungrateful. It’s clear the captain does have a benevolent side and would treat me fairly. And I can’t argue the income will help my family.’
‘But?’
But…she kissed him! Her mind screamed what she longed to shout out loud to someone - if for no other reason than to clear the enormous weight of her conscience.
She shook her head and placed her empty cup on the table. ‘But nothing. I need to accept whatever opportunities come my way. Yes? Now, enough of me. When do you leave?’
‘In a day or two. I just came back to collect my belongings and say a proper goodbye. The Holsworthy’s have always been kind to me. Even when Robbie left, they didn’t force me out of the farm. But I told the captain it was time it became productive again. There’s good fields’ out there just begging for crops to be sown. So, he has promised me to find a nice young family he’ll let the farm to. Lots of love and laughter, that’s what this old place needs. And a coat of paint wouldn’t go astray either.’
Wonderful. Wonderful and miserable all at once. She never thought she could feel so confused. But she couldn’t deny she was elated that her friend had a happy, secure future ahead of her. Nellie deserved to be happy.
She cleared her throat and stood up. ‘So, I’ll see you one day soon, then.’
Nellie braced her hands on the table and slowly stood up. ‘I promise. Oh, and at Christmas too.’
‘Christmas? I would think you’d rather be with your family.’
‘There are more Christmas’s to come. Goodness me, I’d almost forgotten to tell you. The captain has invited me for a luncheon Christmas day at the manor.’
‘Oh my.’ Annabelle grinned.
‘Oh, and make sure you mention it to your aunt, won’t you, Lily?’ Nellie winked and began walking to the kitchen door.
She couldn’t hold back the smile itching at her mouth at the thought Henrietta finding out Nellie had been invited to Etford Park for Christmas and she hadn’t.
It was almost a pity she had to now wait a week to see her aunt – almost.
Chapter 10
Gabriel pulled back on the reins and brought his horse to an abrupt stop at the edge of a crest then scanned the field below.
‘Blast it all. Where the hell is she?’
For over two hours he’d been scouring the estate surrounding Etford Park, looking for a troublesome chit with green eyes and a sharp tongue – and a bruised backside soon too, if he had his way.
Hadn’t it been enough to send his best carriage for her? It was more than most people would have expected. When his driver arrived back without a passenger, he’d first thought to let her walk as she had pleased. Was she baiting him? Trying to test his patience? If so, to what end?
But after an hour of pacing in the damned library, he could contain his frustration no longer. The snow had begun falling in earnest and the notion she may have slipped and hurt herself or succumbed to the bitter cold weighed heavily on his mind.
‘Come, Hector.’ He nudged his mount then started down the slope and headed toward a thick area of forest near the east end of the village.
What was unclear to him was exactly why he was frustrated. There was no doubt regarding its source, but he couldn’t ascertain if he was angrier over her tardiness for her new position or the fact he longed to see her.
He could only hope it was the latter. For the idea he was becoming too attached to the wretched woman didn’t sit well with him.
As for her new mistress, Cecily had been kind enough to wait until mid- morning before sending word that she was still awaiting the arrival of her new maid. And, now he was playing page and errand boy to two blasted unruly females.
Damn it all, he refused to be managed.
He brought Hector to a trot and headed along a forest path that would eventually lead to the edge of the village. He knew the worn track well, it having been he and his brother’s favorite way into the village during the fairs.
Their father rarely granted them permission to leave Etford Park, but sometimes they would head to bed early then sneak out along the back servants’ stairs to the garden. Once outside, they’d run as fast as their legs would take them until they reached the safety of this little forest. Inside, they knew no prying eyes could find them.
At times Henry would complain that he shouldn’t have come along, that he was too young and small to keep up with him. But he would ignore the jibes, determined to be as good as his elder brother.
He recalled seeing Henry kiss some young girl for the first time at a harvest fair. His brother was only fourteen at the time, and somehow seeing the two of them press their lips together was the most revolting scene he’d ever witnessed in his short life. How could any self-respecting boy voluntarily touch a girl in that manner?
A smile curved his lips as he thought about Lily’s kiss. Thank the heavens he grew up.
Shivering with cold, Lily looked up at the enormous holly wreath, grasped the iron door knocker in the centre of it, before pulling it back and striking the white carved door three times.
On the two occasions she had visited Etford Park she had been with her uncle and aunt. Each time she had stayed little more than an hour and whilst inside had been confined to the Green Parlor.
It had been Christmas then as well. And, apart from a similar wreath hanging on the front door, inside the house there were no visible signs of the season. The austere hallways had been bare of decorations and festive ornaments and not one of the servants she’d met seemed the least bit jolly.
She and her sister were never asked to sit down, nor was tea or refreshments offered to them. And in both instances, Lord Etford hadn’t addressed them directly once, which in her opinion was the epitome of bad manners.
But, regardless of her thoughts she never once voiced them. No. Henrietta would have had her hide for daring to question his Lordship’s propriety – or lack of it.
Good gracious. What was taking them so long to answer the door? She hopped from leg to leg, her feet freezing, and she couldn’t feel her poor nose anymore.
She placed her bag on the step and took hold of the knocker once more. Perhaps no one had heard her the first time? She’d strike a little harder this time.
She pulled back the iron ring adorned with a ram’s head and thrust forward, just as the door was opened.
‘Heavens!’ She lunged forward toppling over her bag, her hand still clinging to the knocker. A strong hand grasped under her elbow and assisted her to her feet. Flames of fire licked at her cheeks and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. ‘I…I do beg your pardon.’
Hardly the ideal impression to make on her first day.
She straightened her skirts, looked up and met the stony expression of a familiar face. ‘Good morning. Thompson, isn’t it? Don’t you remember me? I’m Lily Bowden. My uncle is the vicar of Speckles Wood.’
She smiled hopefully, but the solemn man’s only reaction was to raise an eyebrow.
‘No?’ Clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘I believe Captain Holsworthy is expecting me. I am the new lady’s maid.’
He leaned forward a little and turned his head to her left. ‘You are to pr
oceed to the servant’s entrance around the back, madam. There, Mrs Godfrey the housekeeper will see to you.’
‘Oh. Of course. How foolish of me. I didn’t realize…’ But before she could finish her apology, the butler closed the door in her face. How rude.
She picked up her bag, turned and began walking in the direction the butler had indicated. As she passed through various snow-covered gardens, she imagined how beautiful they would be come spring. She couldn’t deny Etford Park had some of the most envied gardens in all of England.
Henrietta could speak of little else.
If her aunt had any true passion at all, then it would have to be flora – as the captain had quickly found out. But, even then, Henrietta never really appreciated the raw beauty of flowers; she merely enjoyed the praise they brought her.
As she approached the back of the manor, a carriage came into view, along with stables, a barn, various other small buildings set back from the main house. Under the shelter of a small shingled roof, a blacksmith appeared to be fixing a horseshoe of one of the captain’s bay mares, whilst another was polishing the brass fittings of the landau – the very same landau she had refused earlier that morning.
The driver looked up and gave her a heavy frown. ‘I see you finally made it then, miss.’
Oh, dear. He didn’t look at all pleased.
She began to shake, from the cold or because of him, she wasn’t sure. ‘Yes. Yes, thank you. I’m sorry you had to go to all that trouble. I really didn’t mind walking.’
The scowling man wiped greasy polish from his hands and came closer. She gripped her bag and held it up against her as if it could possibly provide her with a modicum of protection should he strike her. Not that her frozen feet could carry her far either.
‘Cold, are you? Well, you deserve to be. Stupid girl. I’m glad you enjoyed your little walk, it near cost me my job. Not only did I fail in my duty to bring you here, I had allowed a lady to walk alone in the snow. I’ve never seen Captain Holsworthy so irate.’
An older man, who looked like a stableman, gripped the carriage driver on the shoulder.
‘Come on Lester, leave the young lass be. I think she’s suffered enough by the looks of it, don’t you? I’m sure she dinna know what trouble she’d caused.’ A Scotsman?
She shook her head then nodded. ‘No. I didn’t. I’m sorry.’
Lester spat on the ground then eyed her with a burning glare. Her heartbeat pounded, and she swallowed hard. Lord. She prayed never to be left alone with such an odious man.
‘Take a bit of advice. Know your place, girl. It doesn’t do well to get on the wrong side of me. I may have to obey his lordship, but I’m not at your beck and call.’ He shrugged off the stableman’s hold then returned to his polishing.
A deep sigh escaped her, and she found her grip on the bag so tight her knuckles began to ache.
‘Oh, never mind him, lass. Lester is like that to everyone, except when working for his lordship o’course. Come now, you must be chilled to the bone. So, let’s get you inside before you make any more friends.’ His easy smile made her loosen her grip on the bag and she managed to start walking again. Though the temptation to simply turn around and run as fast as she could had never been stronger, she refused to be a coward. It was bad enough swallowing her pride around her aunt, but she wouldn’t back down now.
‘Thank you, mister…’
‘Call me Donald. I’m nae one for formalities.’
‘You’re from Scotland, Donald?’ She blushed. Idiot. Foolish question.
‘Aye. Glasgow, in fact.’ He approached a wooden door, opened it and beckoned her inside with a sharp tilt of his head. ‘Off you go. I’d best be getting back to the stables. Just go inside and see Mrs Peel over there. She’s the cook. And a bonny lass at that.’ He winked at her as a short, plump woman with fading brown hair and rosy cheeks wiped her hands on her apron and walked towards them.
‘That’s enough of that cheek, Mr MacCallister. His lordship isn’t paying you to loiter around my kitchen all day flirting with the new staff, is he?’ The glint in the woman’s eye betrayed her real feelings about the man. She obviously enjoyed the roguish banter with the Scot.
‘Nae. But, what about the older staff?’
The cook blushed deeply then dismissed him with a wave of her hand. ‘Go on. Off with you. Haven’t you got a stable to muck out or something?’
Donald smiled, gave her a little bow and shut the door as he left.
Left alone with only the cook, she put down her bag and sneezed loudly. Good gracious. Whilst she stood there shivering, a small puddle of water from melting snow and her drenched boots began forming beneath her. Cold, wet and bedraggled, she reminded herself of a cat she once owned in London. The poor thing hated taking a bath, yet she had insisted the creature be washed.
She stared at the blazing hearth with a fierce sense of longing. Oh, to be warm.
‘You poor girl, what happened to you? Come over here and sit by the fire and I’ll make you something hot to drink.’ The woman’s words were like gospel to her ears.
‘Th…thank you.’
Fighting the urge to shake, she slowly sat down and felt the burning prickle in her nose as her face began to thaw. Hopefully she would be dry enough soon to make herself presentable. She glanced down at her clothes and groaned. ‘Presentable’ may be asking too much.
After accepting a steaming cup of tea from Mrs Peel, she began to survey her surroundings. The kitchen was huge. Row upon row of shiny copper pots hung orderly from largest to smallest along the vast stone wall. Two tidy, blackened hearths sat side by side, one fitted with roasting rods, the other with several iron arms for kettles and boilers.
Even with such a well-fitted out kitchen, she doubted she could ever produce decent food. Fortunately for the Holsworthy household, she wasn’t there as the new cook.
Mrs Peel offered her floury hand, which she took warmly and shook. ‘Hello, my dear. You must be Lily?’
Finally. Someone who seemed happy to see her. She was beginning to think the entire arrangement was some farce designed by her aunt as a humiliating form of punishment.
‘Yes. I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Peel. Thank you for your kindness. Such a grand kitchen you have here.’
The woman beamed with obvious pride and sat herself down at an enormous wooden table.
‘It’s all a cook could ask for. Mind you, it hasn’t seen half the work these days as it used to.’
She sipped on her tea and stretched out the sodden folds of her coat. ‘Is there just you here now?’
‘Me and the scullery maid, Polly. But when the lady of the house was here we would be cooking and cleaning from dawn until next dawn most days. His lordship and she would host the most glamorous house parties - especially Christmas. No expense was spared. Lovely lady she was too. So kind and generous to all the staff. Why I was just a scullery maid myself at the time, but we had three cooks, kitchen hands, a dozen footmen. Just feeding the household staff alone was a full-time job.’
She edged her feet a little closer to the fire, shocked to see steam rising from her wet boots. ‘What happened?’
The woman brushed some invisible lint from her sleeve and stood from the table.
‘When the mistress died his lordship retired from society. Most of the staff either left to find better work or were turned off. Nowadays there are just a handful of us to run the estate.’
‘And, you’ve had no celebrations since? Surely his lordship would have still celebrated his children’s birthdays and Christmas?’
‘I’m afraid not. The boys spent most of their holidays with the governess or stayed away at boarding school when they grew older.’
A wave of sadness overwhelmed her at the terrible thought of having a parent, but never being involved in their lives. At least when her father died she slowly came to terms with the fact he was no longer there but was consoled by the knowledge he had loved her. How could anyone, any child, understand wh
y a parent who was there could be so cold and distant?
‘I think you have said enough to our new maid, don’t you, Mrs Peel?’
Startled, she looked up and met the cool assessing gaze of a woman in a black dress with a small white lace collar. Her dark grey hair was coiled back into a tight bun and her face was lined with age. A thick bundle of keys hung from a belt around the woman’s waist and the light glinted off her fine rimmed spectacles.
Mrs Peel frowned and pretended to be busy with nothing at all. ‘I was just welcoming our new girl, Mrs Godfrey.’
Two steel grey eyes remained trained upon her until she began to feel most uncomfortable.
Had she done something wrong already?
‘Good, Mrs Peel. Then I can dispense with the pleasantries and get down to task. Lily Bowden?’
She pushed back the chair a little then stood up. She felt like she was in the schoolroom but forced a smile. ‘Yes. You must be Mrs Godfrey? Thompson said that I should report to…’
‘You’re late.’ The woman finally released her from the torturous stare and opened a small leather-bound ledger she was carrying then reached down and picked up a small gold fob watch hanging from her belt. ‘The captain had informed me you would be arriving at nine o’clock. It is now precisely eleven forty-five.’
Her stomach tensed, and her mouth went dry as she fumbled for words. ‘I apologize, Mrs Godfrey. I hadn’t realized what time I was expected.’
The woman raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.
‘Was there not a carriage sent on time to retrieve you from the vicarage and bring you here?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. There was. But I had decided to walk.’
Mrs Godfrey glance at her watch again, let out a sigh and shook her head slightly.
‘Unfortunately, I do not have time to lecture you on your tardiness. Let us just say that you would be well advised to be prompt and efficient in the future. You have kept Lady Cecily waiting all morning to the point where I had to substitute in your stead.’
Oh dear.
‘Thank you, Mrs Godfrey. Again, I do apologize.’
