by Merry Farmer
“Uff, we’ll have to take it in a bit here,” she said as she helped Millie tie her apron in back.
Millie fixed her cap in place, feeling so different from the old self she’d left behind in the West that she didn’t care if she had to wear a potato sack to work in. “How do I look?” she asked, turning to Ginny and spreading her arms.
“Like you’re of good, English stock,” Ginny reported with a smile, then looped her arm through Millie’s and escorted her out of the room. “Even though I know you’re American,” she went on as they rushed down several flights of stairs to the servant’s quarters. “Everyone’s been talking about you since Mr. Snyder announced we’d have an American joining the staff. Mr. Snyder is the butler, and his word is law.”
“I met him yesterday,” Millie said, flushing at the memory. “I don’t think I made a good impression, though.”
“Nonsense,” Ginny patted her hand to reassure her. “I’m certain you did just fine.”
But as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were met by another woman, close to their age, wearing the same maid’s uniform. “Well, if it isn’t our very own American heiress, come to grace Starcross Castle with her presence.”
The unkindly delivered comment took Millie so much by surprise that she wasn’t sure how to respond. Her stammering only brought a condescending grin to the other maid’s sharp face. Luckily, Ginny came to her defense.
“Jane Thomas, don’t you be unkind. Millie is new here, and we should welcome her with open arms.”
“Oh? Should we?” Jane glanced between Millie and Ginny. “Is that why she tried to come in through the front door when she arrived yesterday?”
Millie winced. She peeked sideways at Ginny. “I told you that I started off on the wrong foot.”
Ginny held her chin up all the same. “Better to try to come in through the front door than sneak in through the back door in the middle of the night.”
Jane turned beet-red and glanced quickly around. “That was one time,” she hissed. “And besides, Billy and I aren’t walking out anymore.”
Ginny crossed her arms and hummed.
“I’ve got my eyes on a better prize now,” Jane went on. She turned to glance down the side hall at the bottom of the stairs.
Millie followed her glance into what looked like a room specially designed for shining shoes. But that wasn’t what made her heart flip in her chest. Owen stood at a table in the room, polishing a large, black boot. He looked as fresh and handsome as if it were midday instead of barely past daybreak. And when he glanced up, meeting Millie’s eyes, it was as if the sun had risen right then and there.
“Good morning, ladies,” Owen called to all three of them.
Before Millie could open her mouth to return the greeting, Jane said, “Good morning, Owen,” in a sugary-sweet voice. “You’re looking well today.”
“And so are you.” Owen nodded, sent Millie a special smile, then returned to his work.
Millie was so overwhelmed with joy at Owen’s smile that she almost didn’t react when Jane whispered, “He’s mine,” in a harsh tone.
Millie’s smile vanished as she turned back to Jane and Ginny. Jane’s expression grew smug as Millie’s shoulders sank. Ginny sighed.
“Lord help us. I don’t see how either of you think we have time for that nonsense,” she said.
Millie chose to imitate her new friend by letting out her own sigh and straightening her back. “You’re right. I’m here to work and earn my living, and that’s all.”
Ginny sent her a conspiratorial wink, and the two of them continued down the corridor to the room Mrs. Wilson had pointed out as the servant’s hall the day before.
“Good,” Jane’s peevish voice followed them. “Because working here is going to be harder than you ever imagined, Miss American Heiress. I’ll make certain of that.”
CHAPTER 3
“Don’t mind Jane,” Ginny said in a low voice as they turned the corner and entered the servant’s hall. It held one long table with benches on either side and a chair at both ends. A simple but hearty breakfast was being laid out by a tired-looking maid, in clothes far less fine than the uniform Millie wore, and a girl who couldn’t have been more than ten who had soot on her hands. “Jane likes to think she’s the lady of the house, but really, her father was a farmer just like mine.”
“Your father was a farmer?” Millie asked as the two of them walked around the table and took a seat on one of the benches.
“Aye, he was.” Ginny smiled. “What about your da?”
Millie lowered her head and swallowed hard. “He was a miner.” And that was the kindest thing she would ever be able to say about him.
“A miner, you say?” a man in the same uniform that Owen wore asked as he sat across the table from them. He was somewhat older than Owen, though not as handsome. But Millie didn’t feel as though he were a threat. Not the way Lord William was.
“Yes.” She did her best to be friendly, even though it was her least favorite topic. “In Colorado.”
The man laughed. “How ironic.”
Millie blinked at him, not understanding the irony.
“Millie, this is Davy Rogers,” Ginny introduced him. “He’s second footman.”
“Hello, love.” Davy winked at Millie, but she didn’t take it as more than teasing. “I’ve always wanted to visit America,” he went on.
“Oh?” Millie didn’t know what else to say. She reached for a plate of toast near her.
Ginny suddenly looked alarmed, but it was Jane who let Millie know exactly what she’d done wrong as she entered the room.
“Well, well. Looks like the American heiress thinks she’s so much better than the rest of us that she can help herself to toast before Mr. Snyder arrives.” She turned to the humbly-dressed maid and snickered. The maid giggled tiredly back. Millie couldn’t tell if she shared Jane’s opinion or if she was going along to avoid trouble.
“I’m sorry,” Millie said, drawing her hand back and feeling like a fool. “Are we supposed to wait?” she whispered to Ginny.
Ginny nodded. “And don’t mind Poppy.” She nodded to the humble maid as she left the room. “She’s the kitchen maid, and she does whatever Jane tells her. But she has a good heart.”
Millie nodded, feeling out of her depths. Jane came around the table and sat deliberately at the other side of the bench where Millie and Ginny sat, tilting her chin up. The sooty girl bumped into her as she hurried to follow Poppy, and Jane yelped as though her life were in danger.
“Watch where you’re going, clod.” She snapped at the girl, then turned to Millie. “You should have started in the scullery. It would teach you a thing or two about your place.”
Millie chewed her lip and looked away. She should have told Jane a thing or two about what her place had been, but she had the feeling that even one peep of her former life and Jane would have a field day with it.
“Dot is the scullery maid,” Ginny whispered in Millie’s ear. “She works hard, but she’s not all there.”
Millie felt sorry for the girl. But then again, she’d seen more than her fair share of feeble-minded girls being dragged down the path she’d been on. Lord Dunsford’s house seemed like a far safer place than, say, the streets of Denver, even with the hard work.
Her melancholy thoughts were lifted as Owen walked into the room and took a seat beside Davy, across the table from the women. “Morning, ladies,” he said with a smile, then turned that smile on Millie. “Good morning, Millie. How are you settling in?”
Millie felt herself blush from her head to her toes. “I think I’m doing okay,” she replied.
Jane snorted. As soon as Owen glanced her way, she sat straighter and put on a pretty face, batting her eyes. “You’re looking very handsome today, Owen. Maybe we’ll have time to take that walk you promised me later.” She sent a gloating look Millie’s way.
“Maybe,” Owen said, shifting to look at nothing in particular, and then to steal a glan
ce at Millie.
Millie barely had time to register the flirtation, or Jane’s look of fury in response. Mr. Snyder entered the room, Mrs. Wilson right behind him. The benches scraped as everyone shot to their feet. But Millie was still caught up in the way Owen had smiled at her, and it took her a moment to realize she was doing yet another thing wrong.
She leapt up. Jane made a scoffing noise and shook her head. Ginny hummed in irritation beside Millie, and it took a moment for Millie to realize she disapproved of Jane’s behavior, not hers. Across the table, Davy wore an amused smile, but Owen looked uncomfortable. At least it seemedlike a sympathetic kind of uncomfortable.
Mr. Snyder cleared his throat. He looked down his nose at Millie and said, “It is customary to stand when the butler, as head of household, enters the room, and to remain standing until he is seated, Miss Horner.”
“Y-yes, sir.” Millie attempted to bob a curtsy while wedged between the bench and the table. Jane and now Poppy, who had returned to the room, barely contained their laughter. Millie’s face went hot.
Mr. Snyder let out a breath, sending a look to the opposite end of the table, where Mrs. Wilson had taken her place. “Miss Millie Horner is new to us,” Mr. Snyder went on. “She has come here from a place in America called Wyoming to take up a position as upstairs maid. I trust you will all help her to learn the ways of a country house, as it seems her education in this regard has been lacking.”
Millie lowered her head, mortified. Although Mr. Snyder didn’t seem to be scolding her so much as pointing out the truth. Jane and Poppy could barely contain themselves, though, and while he didn’t appear unsympathetic, Davy was trying not to laugh as well. But when Millie risked looking up, she found Owen watching her with a kindly expression. It sent bursts of happiness and reassurance through her heart.
“We will say grace,” Mr. Snyder went on, and then you may sit and eat.
Mr. Snyder led them in a simple blessing, and then everyone sat and filled their plates with food. Millie hadn’t had a proper meal since early the day before, and nothing had ever tasted as good to her as the sausages and eggs that she was able to help herself to. Chatter rose up around the table, giving her the feeling of a large family.
“We’re lucky that Mr. Snyder lets us talk at table,” Ginny whispered in Millie’s ear as they ate. “My sister, Jean, works in a house where the butler is a stickler for silence. No one is permitted to speak at meals at all.”
“Really?” Millie gaped. She couldn’t imagine it.
Before the conversation could go on, another man who looked to be in his forties and wore a simple, black suit, stepped into the room. “Lord Dunsford is ready to depart,” he said.
“That’s Mr. Wright, Lord Dunsford’s valet,” Ginny whispered.
Apparently, one sentence was all Mr. Wright needed to say. Mr. Snyder rose, and everyone at the table—including Millie this time—rose with him. “Davy, Owen, come with me. The rest of you may finish your breakfast.”
Davy and Owen stepped over their bench to go with Mr. Snyder, but before they left, Owen turned to her and said, “I’ll see you later, Millie.”
Millie hardly had time to blush before he was gone.
“Cheeky,” Mrs. Wilson grumbled, then spoke louder. “Now that Lord Dunsford is departing, our first order of business is giving his rooms a thorough cleaning. Ginny, I’d like you to show Millie how to do that.”
“But what about me, Mrs. Wilson?” Jane asked, seemingly offended. “I always clean Lord Dunsford’s rooms when he goes away.”
Mrs. Wilson pursed her lips, unhappy with the interruption. “You, Jane, will clean his study from top to bottom. Once all of you are finished, we’ll begin the yearly top-to-bottom cleaning by polishing the staircase and all the wood in the front hall.”
“Uff, polishing,” Ginny whispered as Mrs. Wilson went on to instruct the kitchen staff. “Get ready to have your fingers ache to the point where you think they’ll fall off.”
But before they could get to polishing, there were a thousand things to do in Lord Dunsford’s room. First, they spent the better part of half an hour gathering everything they would need to dust, scrub, and scour, along with new linens for the bed, and waiting until Lord Dunsford was out of the room and on his way. Then Ginny and Millie lugged buckets and brushes and brooms up the servant’s stairs to the proper floor, through winding corridors, until they reached the earl’s suite.
“These rooms are amazing.” Millie turned a circle, looking around the richness and grandeur of Lord Dunsford’s bedroom. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ginny laughed. “It loses its charm a bit when you’re responsible for keeping it ship-shape. Although, lucky for us, Lord Dunsford is a tidy man. Unlike Lord William,” she added with a roll of her eyes.
Millie didn’t need to ask. She’d known enough men in her time to know that some were conscientious and careful while others were sloppy and discourteous. Although she wasn’t about to share the details of exactly how she knew and the particular way that she’d found out.
Cleaning Lord Dunsford’s bedroom and dressing room took all morning, but Millie didn’t mind the work so much. She enjoyed studying the objects she picked up from his bureau as she dusted them and appreciated the scent of whatever soap or cologne it was that pervaded the room.
“Where does that door lead?” she asked Ginny as they finished up and gathered their things. There was a plain door at the other end of the dressing room that they hadn’t gone through.
Ginny grew quiet. “That leads to what used to be her ladyship’s suite.”
“Oh.” Millie lowered her head respectfully.
“We’ll clean and straighten it from time to time, but other than that—” She shrugged. “No one really goes in there.”
“Not even his lordship?”
Ginny looked even more uncomfortable. “The relationship between his lordship and his ladyship was…difficult.”
“Ah.” Millie gathered up the bucket full of now dirty water that they’d used to scrub the windows and carried it and a handful of brushes to the door.
“It’s not good to speak unkindly of the dead,” Ginny went on in a low whisper, “but her ladyship was…troubled.”
“I understand.” Millie had known any number of people in her life that could be called troubled. She didn’t need to know more about the late Lady Dunsford to feel sorry for her.
By the time they returned to the servant’s hall, luncheon was almost over. They were able to grab a small bite before heading back up into the main part of the house, armed with rags and polish, to the magnificent staircase in the cavernous central hall. The stairs started wide at the bottom, then split halfway up, each side leading to a different wing of the castle. Millie’s arms were already aching as she and Ginny started polishing at the top left-hand side of the stairs. Her first day as a maid felt like it was lasting all week. Especially when it was no longer just her and Ginny working together.
“Do you call that polishing?” Jane jeered from the other side of the staircase.
Millie glanced at her work, then across to where Jane was working. “I think it’s good enough.”
Jane snorted. “Good enough might work for American heiresses, but it doesn’t meet our standards here.”
Ginny straightened from where she was working on the other side of their half of the staircase. “How can you even see Millie’s work from so far away?”
“Her work is so bad that I can tell from here,” Jane countered.
“It looks fine to me.”
All three of the women froze as Owen appeared at the top of the left-hand branch of the stairs. He carried a crate of some sort as though it weighed nothing, and wore a smile on his face. Better still, he stopped on the stair where Millie worked.
“And how is your first day at Starcross Castle moving along?” he asked.
Millie turned away from the banister. She couldn’t believe how flustered Owen made her. Her, Millie Horner
. A girl who had once gone by another name and spent more intimate time with men than she cared to remember.
“It’ll be her last day, if she’s not careful,” Jane called from the other side of the stairs. She tilted her sharp chin up. “She’s perfectly useless, if you ask me.”
Owen glanced from Millie to Jane and back again, his expression uncertain. “Do you need some help?” he asked at last, turning to set his crate down. “I can show you the best way to work the polish so that it doesn’t leave any spots.”
“Really?” Millie brightened.
Jane humphed. “You should be offering to show me how to polish without spots.”
Owen sent her a smile that managed to be cordial without suggesting more. “You’ve worked here for years, Jane. If you haven’t managed to figure it out by now, I’m not sure anything I could say would help.”
Jane flushed and snapped back to her work, rubbing polish into the banister as if her efforts would cause the whole thing, and Millie, to catch fire.
“Here.” Owen gave his full attention back to Millie, stepping close to her. He closed his hand over hers, and Millie’s insides jumped. “You need to rub with the grain. That way, the linseed oil penetrates deeper.”
Millie’s unmentionables quivered at his use of the words “rub” and “penetrate”. It was all she could do to remind herself that that part of her life was over and she was just a good and humble servant now. Especially with Owen’s large, warm hand over hers. Tingles shot up her arm, especially when she peeked up at him and found him smiling at her, something delicious and sparkling in his blue eyes.
“What’s going on here?” another male voice snapped.
All four of them looked up, then rushed furiously back to work as Lord William appeared at the top of the stairs. Owen took a huge step back.
“I told you to take those things to my study.” Lord William marched up to Owen with a dark scowl.
