The Lady's Maid

by Dilly Court

  Kate had filled several baskets with apples and she stopped, stretching her aching muscles. Molly’s bare legs dangled above her as she reached to the topmost branches, sending down a shower of leaves. ‘Be careful, Molly. We don’t want any more accidents.’

  Molly threw an apple at her but it missed by several inches, and Kate shook the tree, causing her to screech with fright.

  ‘That looks like fun. Can anyone join in?’

  Kate looked round and saw Josie standing a few yards away. ‘I didn’t hear you coming.’

  ‘No, you were too busy trying to shake the poor girl from the tree.’ Josie bent down to pick up a rosy-red windfall and she took a bite. ‘Delicious. Can you spare a basketful? Your apples always taste so much sweeter than the ones in our orchards.’

  Kate smiled. She knew that this was tantamount to an apology and the most she could expect from her old friend. ‘Of course. You can have a sackful if you like.’

  ‘No, a basket will do. Perhaps a nice sweet apple will tempt Papa’s appetite.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He is the worst patient that anyone could imagine. Dr Smith is pleased with his progress but Papa refuses to accept the fact that he is crippled. To tell the truth, Kate, I’m glad to be out of the house for a few hours.’

  Molly shinned down from the tree, jumping from the last branch and landing on all fours. ‘Shall I fetch a trug for the apples, miss?’

  ‘So you were the little monkey up the tree,’ Josie said, laughing. ‘Yes, Molly, if you please. And only the biggest and the ripest will do.’

  Molly scuttled away, barefoot and with her skirts flying. Kate chuckled with sheer relief. The cloud that had hung over her head since Josie’s angry tirade seemed to dissipate into thin air. ‘You are a spoilt brat, Josie.’

  ‘I know it, but I’m here to make amends. What do you say to a carriage ride?’

  ‘I’d love to, but I’m too busy. Maybe another day.’

  Josie’s smile faded into a frown. ‘No, I want to go now, and so will you when I tell you what I have in mind.’

  ‘I can’t, Josie. I have to help Molly pick the rest of the apples before the November gales bring them from the trees.’

  ‘Oh, is that all? I’ll send one of our men to do that.’ Josie took her by the arm. ‘Now, Kate, change into something a bit more respectable, for I won’t travel with a girl who looks as though she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. Put on your best bonnet.’

  ‘But where are we going?’

  ‘To Copperstone Castle. I’m determined to see it for myself.’

  Kate stopped in her tracks. ‘No, I don’t want to go there. I can’t abide Mr Challenor, and I certainly don’t want to visit his home.’

  ‘But he won’t be there, dear Kate. Harry and the rest of his party went back to London and he wasn’t planning to return to Dorset until Christmas, he told me so himself. So I want to inspect the castle, which will one day be my home.’

  ‘I thought you’d given up that idea.’

  ‘Certainly not. Oh, I was a little put out when Harry went away so suddenly, but I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I decided that he acted out of concern for my feelings and respect for my parents. He’ll return when he realises that his true destiny is to marry me. Besides which, he has business dealings with Papa, so I know he will come back sometime soon. Now, do as I say. Go and change your clothes. We must hurry if we’re to get there and back before dark.’

  Kate knew that it was useless to argue. Once Josie had her mind set on something no power on earth would shake her from her purpose, and, although she was reluctant to admit it even to herself, she was immensely curious to see what sort of home had bred a man like Harry Challenor. Besides which, there could be no harm in such an excursion if he were in London, and she was certain that Pa would not mind if she took a little time off from her chores. He had gone to the Grange, ostensibly to discuss business with the squire, but she was afraid that his real purpose had been to call on Miss Stamp. He seemed to be spending far too much of his spare time with that woman.

  She went to find Molly who was scrabbling about in one of the outhouses, looking for a trug, and left her with instructions to tell Pa where she had gone and to assure him that she would be back in time for the evening milking. There was rabbit stew simmering on the kitchen range and Molly would have to keep an eye on it, as there was nothing worse than the taste of burnt meat and potatoes. Satisfied that she had understood and would carry out her instructions to the letter, Kate went upstairs to her bedroom to change her clothes.

  It was a glorious afternoon for tooling around the countryside in the chaise with Button, the frisky gelding, between the shafts. Josie was a skilled driver but rather too fond of speed for Kate’s peace of mind. She held on for dear life as Josie negotiated sharp bends, flicking the whip so that the horse kept up a brisk pace. Kate prayed that they would not meet a lumbering farm cart head on, but it seemed as though their luck was in and they arrived at the main gates of the Copperstone estate in little less than an hour. The gatekeeper hurried out of his cottage and Josie announced grandly that they were acquainted with the owner, who had invited them to view the castle and its grounds. Kate said nothing, but the man was obviously impressed by Josie’s self-assured manner. He let them into the grounds, advising them to seek out Mrs Trench, the housekeeper, who would be pleased to show them round the castle.

  In spite of her somewhat ambivalent feelings towards Harry Challenor, Kate could not help being impressed as they drove along a wooded avenue, passing by the stable block and carriage house, and out into open parkland. The castle was a square four-storey building with a turret at each corner, and had, so Josie informed her, been built in the seventeenth century as a hunting lodge. In her imagination Kate had envisioned a forbidding granite fortress with a bloody history dating back to medieval times. In complete contrast, the mellow Purbeck stone walls of Copperstone Castle glowed in the late autumn sunlight, making it appear warm and welcoming. Its tall windows glinted like bright, laughing eyes, and the whole ambience was one of peace and serenity.

  Josie was fairly bubbling with excitement as she drew the horse to a halt at the bottom of the perron. The double doors at the main entrance opened and a footman hurried down the steps to hold the horse’s head, while another helped Josie alight from the chaise. Kate was left to fend for herself and she climbed slowly down from the vehicle. She felt suddenly dowdy and out of place amidst all this grandeur as she followed Josie up the wide flight of steps that led to the imposing portico.

  ‘Don’t worry, dear,’ Josie whispered as they waited in the vestibule for the housekeeper. ‘They’ll assume that you’re my maid, so you mustn’t feel at a disadvantage, although if you were employed by me I’d see to it that you had something better to wear.’

  It was hardly comforting, and Kate began to wish that she had not come, especially when the housekeeper gave her a condescending glance and then turned to Josie with an ingratiating smile. She found herself largely ignored as they toured the ground floor rooms, which were large, airy and elegantly furnished. She had expected to find the walls hung with trophies of the hunt, sombre oil paintings of highland cattle and stags at bay, and maybe a gun rack or two. It was something of a shock to find that there were embroidered fire screens, smiling family portraits, sparkling crystal chandeliers and urns blazing with fiery crimson chrysanthemums and a purple haze of Michaelmas daisies. From the drawing room and study to the dining and billiard rooms, the castle had the lived-in and comfortable atmosphere of a much-loved family home. It was all so different from her mental picture of Harry Challenor’s raffish bachelor apartments; which hovered somewhere between an eastern potentate’s harem and a bordello in Marseilles, such as were found between the covers of penny dreadfuls. Kate followed silently as Josie exclaimed in admiration at the furnishings, the size and proportion of the rooms, and the view from the windows; in fact everything she saw seemed to fill her with
delight. In the midst of her complimentary remarks, Josie threw in the odd question about Harry’s habits when living in the country. Kate felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but Josie was unrepentant, even when Mrs Trench made it quite clear that she did not gossip about her master.

  When the tour finally came to an end, Josie angled her head, smiling. ‘You have been so obliging, Mrs Trench. I don’t want to trespass on your goodwill, but I would dearly love to see the view from one of the towers.’

  Mrs Trench folded her arms across her chest and her thin lips disappeared into a straight line. ‘I’m afraid that is not possible, Miss Damerell. My rheumaticky knees will not allow me to climb the steps to the top of the turrets.’

  ‘I understand perfectly,’ Josie cooed. ‘But I’m sure Harry would not mind if we went up unaccompanied. I do so long to admire the view from the top.’

  ‘Very well, miss. But do take care. The spiral steps are worn in places and there have been accidents in the past.’ Mrs Trench sniffed and walked away with an irritated twitch of her shoulders.

  Josie seized Kate by the hand, dragging her across the billiard room and into the southeast tower. A steep spiral staircase rose up in front of them. ‘Race you to the top,’ Josie said, chuckling.

  Kate drew back. ‘I don’t know, Josie. It doesn’t seem right to be intruding into Mr Challenor’s private life like this.’

  ‘Don’t be a silly goose. Harry wouldn’t mind and we’re only going to look at the view.’

  ‘It’s getting late. I have to be home in time for evening milking.’

  Josie picked up her skirts and started up the staircase. ‘You can be so boring at times, Kate. The cows can wait, but I can’t.’

  There was little that Kate could do, except to follow her. It seemed that the stairs went on forever, and she had to stop several times to catch her breath, but Josie bounded on ahead. By the time Kate caught up with her Josie had recovered from the long climb and was staring out of the window with a rapt expression on her face. ‘Isn’t this just marvellous, Kate. Come here and look at the view.’

  Her legs were trembling and Kate fought to catch her breath as she peered out of the window. Above the treetops, she could see the gap in the cliffs where the land sloped down to the cove and beyond it a thin stripe of ultramarine sea. Josie left her side and ran to the far window, pointing excitedly. ‘The estate must be vast. Just think, Kate. One day I will be mistress of all this.’

  Kate crossed the floor to look at the view of the park and the woodland that stretched as far as the eye could see. In the distance, visible in a gap between the trees, she could see the spire of a church and the dazzling white stucco frontage of a large Georgian house. ‘It’s very fine, Josie. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high, if I were you.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’ve made up my mind that I will have Harry and his castle. When I decide on something, nothing can stop me. You ought to know that by now.’

  Kate shook her head but she refrained from making a comment. Josie usually did get her own way once she had set her heart on something. As she glanced across the green velvet carpet of grassland, Kate realised that the shadows were lengthening. ‘We must go, Josie. It’s getting late.’

  Reluctantly, Josie turned away from the window. ‘I know, and the wretched cows need milking. The sooner I get you away from that beastly farm, the better. Don’t look so worried, dear. I’ve seen all I wanted to see. We’ll go now.’

  A groom brought the chaise to the front entrance and Josie took her seat, glancing at Kate with a mischievous grin. ‘You wanted to get home quickly, so hold tight.’ She flicked the reins and the vehicle lurched forward. Kate had to hold on as Josie encouraged Button to a dangerously fast pace along the narrow country lanes. ‘Don’t look so scared, Kate. You are the one who wanted to hurry.’ She flicked the whip above the horse’s left ear.

  ‘It will be dark soon,’ Kate said anxiously. ‘Oughtn’t you to stop and light the lamps?’

  ‘It’s only dusk and we’ll be home before long. Anyway, there are not likely to be many other vehicles on the road at this hour.’

  Kate lapsed into silence. They were driving along a lane through dense woodland, and the trees formed a tunnel overhead, cutting out what little daylight was left in the darkening sky. Dry leaves fluttered gently down, carpeting the road and deadening the sound of the horse’s hooves and the carriage wheels. As they emerged at the edge of Puddlecombe village the road widened slightly and the steep banks gave way to grass verges, but at that moment a farm wagon came round the corner, approaching them at a speed that matched their own. The driver stood up in the well of the cart, shouting at Josie as he reined in his sturdy carthorse. Josie tugged on Button’s reins, but the frightened animal reared in the shafts. The horses’ terrified whinnies, the crunch of splintering wood and screams filled the air, and suddenly the world was upside down.

  Dazed, bruised and momentarily winded, Kate stared up at the sky through the spokes of a spinning wheel. She dimly heard male voices shouting and the sound of running footsteps. Her first thought was for Josie, but the chaise was on its side and the driving seat was empty. Someone was speaking to her and at first she could not make out the words.

  ‘Are you all right, miss?’

  ‘I – think so.’ Kate raised her head and found herself looking into the face of a middle-aged woman wearing a starched and goffered white mobcap. A hand came towards her and she clasped it, allowing the woman to pull her gently upright.

  ‘Can you climb out now, miss?’

  Kate was trembling with shock and her head was throbbing; she felt battered and bruised, but somehow she managed to clamber out of the upturned vehicle. A young boy had rescued Button from the shafts and was intent on calming the terrified animal, and the farmer was cursing volubly as he surveyed the damage to his wagon. Even in her distressed state, Kate was relieved to see that neither horse had been injured in the collision.

  She leaned against the woman for support as her knees threatened to give way beneath her. ‘Josie, my friend. Is she hurt?’

  ‘Don’t fret, miss. Your friend is being cared for by the master. Let me help you into the house.’

  Kate limped round the back of the chaise and saw Josie lying on the roadside with a clerical gentleman kneeling at her side. She stifled a cry of dismay as she saw the livid bruise on Josie’s forehead and a trickle of blood running down the side of her face. She was deathly pale and her eyes were closed. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Kate exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hands. ‘Is she …’

  The man, who Kate vaguely supposed must be the vicar of the parish, looked up with a reassuring smile in his grey eyes. ‘She is very much alive, but she’s had a nasty bang on the head. We must get her into the house immediately.’ He rose to his feet, lifting Josie gently in his arms, and he turned to the woman who had helped Kate from the wreckage. ‘Mrs Trevett, be so good as to send Ethan for Dr Drage.’

  ‘Certainly, Reverend. I’ll do it right away.’ She turned to the boy. ‘You heard what the master said. Take the animal to the stables and then run for the doctor.’ She beckoned to Kate. ‘If you would care to come this way, miss?’

  She hurried up the path which led to the front entrance, but Kate did not follow immediately. ‘Josie will be all right, won’t she, vicar?’

  ‘As far as I can tell there are no bones broken, but the doctor will give her a thorough examination.’ He pushed the wicket gate open with the toe of his boot. ‘Come inside, my dear. You’ve had a nasty shock, but thank goodness nothing worse.’

  Kate walked slowly, her bruised limbs moving reluctantly as if she were wading in deep water, and she paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder as she heard a commotion in the lane. Several men had come running from the neighbouring cottages, and were attempting to right their vehicle. She could hear the angry voice of the farmer ranting about the damage to his cart, and it was a relief to leave it all behind as she entered the candlelit hallway. She stood ther
e, dazed and disorientated after the shock of the accident. ‘Where are we, ma’am? What place is this?’

  ‘Why, it’s Puddlecombe of course, and you came to grief outside the home of the Reverend John Hardy. I am his housekeeper, Mary Trevett, Mrs Mary Trevett, widow.’

  ‘I – I’m sorry to put you to so much bother, ma’am,’ Kate said, wondering vaguely if she should follow Mr Hardy up the stairs. She really ought to be with Josie even if there was little she could do to help. ‘Will the doctor be long, Mrs Trevett?’

  ‘Lord, no, miss. He only lives a hundred yards or so up the lane. Come with me to the parlour and I’ll send the girl in with a tray of tea.’

  ‘But I really should be with Josie.’

  Mrs Trevett shook her head. ‘She’s in good hands, Miss – er – I didn’t catch your name.’

  ‘Coggins, Kate Coggins and my friend is Miss Josie Damerell of Damerell Manor near Dorchester. We must get word to her family, and to my father who’ll be out of his mind with worry.’

  Mrs Trevett opened the door to a small, cosy room with a log fire burning brightly in the grate. She bustled about lighting candles. ‘Take a seat, Miss Coggins. We’ll have to wait until Dr Drage has been, and then we can see about sending messages home. I doubt if you’ll be able to travel on tonight, so I’ll have a room made up for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said wearily, suddenly feeling tired and tearful. She sat down on the nearest chair. ‘You’re very kind, ma’am.’

  Mrs Trevett stood in the doorway, staring at her in a way that made Kate feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Is there anything wrong?’ Kate’s hand flew to her forehead, where she could feel a bump that was the size of a pullet’s egg.

  ‘No, miss. You sit there and rest, while I see to everything.’