by Unknown
The house was silent; only the ticking of clocks accompanied her to the library. Now when she entered the room it was as if she were falling into the arms of an old friend. Even the tentacles of cold receded as she turned on the light, placed her notebook and pencil on the desk, and went to the bookshelves. She took down the book she had been reading for the past three days, sat at the desk, found her place, and commenced.
Frankie Dobbs always said that when she was reading Maisie had "cloth ears" She always seemed instinctively to know the time and when she would need to stop reading to run an errand or complete a chore, but as far as Frankie was concerned, "Those ears don't even work when you've yer nose in a book!"And he loved her all the more for it.
'ord and Lady Compton were caught up in the midst of the London season, which Lady Rowan loved for its energy, even if she did have to tolerate some people she considered to be "light" Fortunately late nights usually fell on weekends, but this invitation, in the middle of the week, was not to be missed: an intimate yet sumptuous dinner with one of London's most outspoken hostesses.
"Thank God there's someone with a bigger mouth than mine," Lady Rowan confided to her husband.
Guests were to include some of the leading literary lights of Europe. It was an opportunity for sparkling conversation, definitely not to be missed. Maurice Blanche would accompany them, a rare event, as he was known to shun society gatherings.
After-dinner conversation drifted past midnight. It was only as Maisie Dobbs crept downstairs to the library that Lord and Lady Compton, along with Maurice Blanche, bade their hostess adieu, thanking her profusely for a wonderful evening. They arrived home at three in the morning. Carter had been instructed not to wait up, but an evening supper tray had been left for them in the drawing room. Lady Rowan was still in fine argumentative fettle as Lord Julian led the way.
"I tell you, Maurice, this time you are mistaken. Only last week I was reading-where was I reading-oh yes, that new book. You know, Julian, what was it called? Anyway, I was reading about a new hypothesis that utterly controverts your position"
"Rowan, could we please-" interrupted Lord Julian.
"Julian, no, we couldn't. Pour Maurice a drink. I'll find the book, then you'll see!"
"As you will, Rowan. I am very much looking forward to seeing what you have read. One always welcomes the opportunity to learn," said Maurice Blanche.
While the men settled by the embers of the drawing-room fire, Lady Rowan stormed upstairs to the library. Maisie Dobbs was deep in her book. She heard neither footsteps on the stairs nor the approach of Lady Rowan. She heard nothing until Lady Rowan spoke. And she did not speak until she had watched Maisie for some minutes, watched as the girl sucked on the end of her single braid of thick, black hair, deep in concentration. Occasionally she would turn a page back, reread a sentence, nod her head, then read on.
"Excuse me. Miss Dobbs"
Maisie sat up and closed her eyes tightly, not quite believing that a voice had addressed her.
"Miss Dobbs!"
Maisie shot up from the chair, turned to face Lady Rowan, and quickly bobbed a curtsy. "Sorry,Your Ladyship. Begging your pardon, Ma'am. I've not harmed anything."
"What are you doing, girl?" asked Lady Rowan.
"Reading, Ma'am"
"Well, I can see that. Let me see that book."
Maisie turned, took the book she had been reading, and handed it to Lady Rowan. She stepped back, feet together, hands at her sides. Bloody hell, she was in trouble now.
"Latin? Latin! What on earth are you reading Latin for?"
Lady Rowan's surprise stemmed questions that another employer might have put to the young maid.
"Um ... well. Um ... I needed to learn it," replied Maisie.
"You needed to learn it? Why do you need to learn Latin?"
"The other books had Latin in them, so I needed to understand it. To understand the other books, that is"
Maisie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Now she needed to pee. For her part Lady Rowan was regarding Maisie sternly, yet she felt a strange curiosity to know more about the girl she had already thought unusual.
"Which other books? Show me," demanded Lady Rowan.
One by one Maisie took down the books, her hands shaking, her legs turning to jelly as she moved the library steps from one shelf to another. Whatever happened next, it was sure to be bad.Very bad. And she had let down her dad. How would she tell him she had been sacked? What would she say?
Maisie was so scared that she did not notice that, in her curiosity, Lady Rowan had forgotten the formality with which she would ordinarily address a servant. She asked Maisie about her choice of books, and Maisie, taking up her notebook, recounted what she had learned in her reading, and what questions had led her to each text in turn.
"My, my, young lady. You have been busy. All I can remember of Latin is the end of that verse: `First it killed the Romans, and now it's killing me!' "
Maisie looked at Lady Rowan and smiled. She wasn't sure if it was a joke, but she couldn't stop the grin from forming. It was the first time she had truly smiled since coming to the house. The expression was not lost on Lady Rowan, who felt herself torn between regard for the girl and the appropriate response in such a situation.
"Maisie-Miss Dobbs. There is still time for you to enjoy a short rest before your duties commence. Go back to your room now. I shall need to discuss this incident. In the meantime, do not use the library until you hear from Carter, who will instruct you as to how we will deal with this ... situation" Lady Rowan felt the requirements of her position pressing upon her, just as it had when she had been taken by Maurice to the East End of London. How could she do what was right, without compromising-how had Maurice described it? Yes, without compromising "the safety of her own pond"?
"Yes,Your Ladyship" Maisie put her notebook into in her pocket, and with tears of fear visibly pricking the inner corners of her eyes, bobbed another curtsy.
Lady Rowan waited until Maisie had left the room before extinguishing the lights. It was only as she walked slowly down the staircase that she remembered that she had gone to the library for a book.
"Bloody fool," she said to herself, and walked toward the drawing room to speak with her husband and Maurice Blanche on a new topic of conversation.
CHAPTER TEN
aisie had hardly been able to concentrate on anything since being discovered. She felt sure that notice to leave the employ of Lord and Lady Compton would soon follow, and was surprised that one week had gone by without any word. Then Carter summoned Maisie to his "office," the term he sometimes used-especially in grave situations where a reprimand was to be meted out-to describe the butler's pantry, a small room adjacent to the kitchen, where he kept meticulous records regarding the running of the house.
Maisie was in a miserable state. The embarrassment of being caught, together with the pain of anticipating her father's dismay at her behavior, was almost too much to bear. And of course, she no longer had access to the Comptons' library. Wringing her already work-reddened hands, Maisie knocked on the door of Mr. Carter's office. Her nails were bitten down to the quick, and she had picked at her cuticles until her fingers were raw It had been a nervewracking week.
"Enter," said Carter, with a tone that was neither soft and welcoming nor overtly displeased. It was a tone that gave nothing away.
"Good morning, Mr. Carter." Maisie bobbed a curtsy as she walked into the small room. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"
"Yes, Maisie. You know why I have summoned you. Lady Compton wishes to meet with you at twelve noon today. Sharp. In the library. I shall myself be in attendance, as will a colleague of both Lord and Lady Compton.
"Yes, Mr. Carter."
Maisie could bear the wait no longer, and although fear was nipping at her throat and chest, she had to know her fate.
"Mr. Carter, Sir?"
"Yes, Maisie?" Carter regarded her over half-moon spectacles.
"Mr. Carter. Can't yo
u just get on with it? Give me the sack now, so that I don't have to-"
"Maisie. No one has said anything about the sack. I am instructed only to accompany you to a meeting with Lady Rowan and Dr. Blanche. I have also been requested to take your notebooks to the library this morning at half past ten. Please bring them to me directly so that I can take them to Lady Rowan"
"But .... Maisie did not understand, and although she thought that Carter did not understand either, she suspected he might have an inkling. "Mr. Carter, Sir. What's this all about?"
Carter adjusted his tie and swept an imaginary hair from the cuff of his crisp white shirt. "Maisie, it is most unusual. However, I do not believe your employment here is at an end. In fact, rather the contrary. Now then. The notebooks. Then I believe the sideboard in the dining room is to be waxed and polished this morning, so you had better get on"
Maisie bobbed another curtsy and turned to leave the office.
"And Maisie," said Carter, sweeping back his well-combed gray-atthe-temples hair. "Although respect should always be accorded our employers and their guests, there's no need to keep bobbing up and down like a sewing-machine needle when you are downstairs"
Maisie absentmindedly bobbed again and quickly left the office. She returned fifteen minutes later with her collection of small notebooks for Carter. She was terrified of the meeting that was to take place at twelve noon, and was sure that she would spend half the time until then in the lavatory.
Carter was waiting at the foot of the first-floor stairs at five minutes to twelve when Maisie walked toward him from the landing that led to the lower stairs and the kitchen. He drew his pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket, determined to be not a moment too soon or a second too late.
"Ah, Maisie," he said as she approached, hands clasped together in front of her white pinafore.
Carter looked the girl up and down to check for marks on the pinafore and scuffs on her shoes, for stray tendrils of hair escaping from her white cap.
"Nicely turned out. Good. Let us proceed"
Carter checked his watch once more, turned, and led the way to the library. Maisie had a horrible taste in her mouth. What would her father say when she came home with her small canvas bag and no job? Well, perhaps it was for the best. She missed him something rotten, so perhaps it would be a very good thing. Carter knocked briskly at the door. A voice could be heard within.
"Come in"
Maisie closed her eyes for a second, put her hands behind her back, and crossed her fingers.
"Ah, Carter. Miss Dobbs. Maisie. Do come in"
"Thank you, Ma'am," said Carter. Maisie bobbed her curtsy and looked sideways at Carter. Lady Rowan beckoned Maisie to her.
"Maurice, this is the girl of whom we have been speaking" Then, inclining her head slightly toward Maisie, she said, "I would like to introduce Dr. Maurice Blanche. He knows of our meeting in the library, and I have consulted with him regarding the situation"
Maisie was now utterly confused. What situation? And who was this man? What was going on? Maisie nodded and curtsied to the man standing alongside Lady Rowan.
"Sir," she said in acknowledgment.
She didn't know what to make of this small man. He wasn't as tall as Lady Rowan, and while he looked well fed, there was a wiryness to him. Solid, as her dad would have said. Solid. She couldn't even guess his age, but thought he was older than her dad, but not as old as Grandad. Over fifty, perhaps sixty. He had blue-gray eyes that looked as if they were floating in water, they were that clear. And his hands-they had long fingers with wide nails. Hands that could play the piano, very exact hands that made precise movements. She saw that when he took up her notebooks from a walnut side table and flicked a page or two.
He was a plain dresser, not done up like two penn'orth of hambone like some of them that she'd seen at the house. No, this was a plain man. And he looked right through her. And because she thought that she had nothing to lose and because her dad had told her always to "stand tall," Maisie stiffened her spine, pulled her shoulders back, and looked him straight in the eye as he had looked at her. Then he smiled.
"Miss Dobbs, Maisie. Lady Rowan has spoken with me about your encounter in the library last week"
Here it comes, thought Maisie. She clenched her teeth.
"Now then, come with me"
Maurice Blanche walked to the library table and sat down, then invited Maisie to sit next to him, with her notebooks in front of them.
Lady Rowan nodded at Carter, who remained by the door, as she walked to stand by the window They watched as Blanche spoke with Maisie.
Gradually he broke down Maisie's shyness and the formalities that separated housemaid and houseguest. Within fifteen minutes the two were in animated conversation. Maurice Blanche asked questions, Maisie answered, often with another question. Clever, thought Carter, very clever. The way that Dr. Blanche drew Maisie out, with his voice, his eyes, a finger tapped upon the page, a question punctuated by a hand placed on the chin to listen. Lady Rowan was equally riveted by the discourse, but her interest was of a more personal nature. Maisie Dobbs's future was part of her own quest to challenge herself, and what was considered correct in a household such as hers and for a woman of her titled position.
An hour passed. An hour during which Carter was sent to bring tea for Dr. Blanche. Nothing was requested for Maisie. It would never do for a man of Carter's position to be at the service of a maid.Yet Carter sensed that something important was happening, that this was an hour during which the established structure of life in the house was changing. And he foresaw that changes that came as a result of whatever came to pass in this room this morning would affect them all. And these were strange-enough times already, what with old King Edward just dead and King George V's coronation around the corner.
Finally Maurice Blanche asked Maisie to close and collect her books. She did as instructed and drew away from the table to stand next to Carter, while Lady Rowan Joined Maurice Blanche at the table.
"Rowan, I am more than satisfied," said Dr. Blanche. "You may reveal our plan to Miss Dobbs and Mr. Carter. Then we shall see if Mr. Carter agrees and how we may begin"
Lady Rowan spoke, first looking at Carter, then at Maisie. "Last week when I came upon Miss Dobbs in the library, I was struck by the breadth of her reading. We know that anyone can take down a book and read, but when I briefly looked at her notebooks I realized that there was also a depth of understanding. You are a very bright girl, Miss Dobbs"
Lady Rowan glanced at Maurice Blanche, who nodded to her to continue.
"I know that this is most unusual. Carter has already been given an indication of my thoughts, and has concurred with my decision. Now I can be more specific. Lord Compton and I are believers in education and opportunity. However, opportunities to contribute directly are rare. Miss Dobbs, we have a proposal for you"
Maisie blushed and looked at her shoes as Lady Rowan continued.
"Under the direction of Dr. Blanche you will continue your studies here. Dr. Blanche is a busy man, but he will meet with you once every fortnight in the library.Your studies, and the tutorials with Dr. Blanche, must, however, be on your own time and must not interfere in any way with your work in the house.What do you say to that, Maisie?"
Maisie was shocked, but after taking a moment to consider, she flashed the smile that seemed to be working its way back into her life. "Thank you, Ma'am. Sir-Dr. Blanche-thank you"
"Miss Dobbs," said Maurice Blanche, "hold your thanks for the time being.You may not take kindly to me when you have seen my plans for your education"
v hat night, when Maisie was in bed, she was hardly able to sleep for wondering about the events of the day. Carter had been accommodating, but then he was kind. And the other staff, when they had learned about it later-because that Mrs. Crawford was a right old chatterbox-seemed to be all right with it all, as long as she pulled her weight in the house. There hadn't been any snide comments, or jealousy. But when Enid finally came to bed in
the early hours, she wasted no time in voicing a thought that had been at the back of Maisie's mind.
"You'd've thought they would've just sent you to one of those fancy schools, on the QT, like. Or even paid for your uniform and all that, for the school where you won the scholarship. They're not short of a few bob, are they?"
Maisie nodded.
"But you know what I reckon, Mais? To be perf-hectly honest with you. I reckon they knew you would 'ave a rotten time there. What with all them toffs. It would get you down, it would. Reckon that's what it is"
Without waiting for a response, and using her hairbrush as a pointer for emphasis, Enid continued. "And what you've got to remember, Dobbsie, is that there's them upstairs, and there's us downstairs. There's no middle, never was. So the likes of you and me can't just move up a bit, if that's what you think. We've got to jump, Dobbsie, and bloody 'igh to boot!"
Maisie knew that there was more than a grain of truth in her words. But if Her Ladyship wanted a cause, someone with whom to play `Lady Bountiful,' she didn't mind being on the receiving end if it meant getting on with her education.
Maisie changed the subject. "So, where were you tonight, Enid?" she asked.
"Never you mind.You can keep that there clever mind of yours on your own business now, and don't you be thinking about mine."
Maisie closed her eyes, then quickly fell asleep. She dreamt of long corridors of books, of Dr. Blanche at the library table, and of Enid. And even with the excitement of her lessons with Dr. Blanche, it was the dream about Enid that remained with her throughout the next day, and for some days to come. And she tried not to think about the dream and Enid, because every time she did, she shivered along the full length of her spine.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ordJulian Compton knew of his wife's "project" and gave the education of Maisie Dobbs his blessing, although secretly he believed that the exercise would soon falter and any ambitions shown by young Miss Dobbs would be extinguished under the strain of trying to be two very different people, to say nothing of being a girl on the cusp of womanhood. He was intrigued by Maurice Blanche and his interest in Maisie's education, and it was this involvement, rather than his wife's philanthropic gestures, that led him to allow that the project might, in fact, have some merit. He held Maurice Blanche in high esteem, and was even in some awe of the man.
