The Maid's Quarters

by Holly Bush

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Alice whispered, and lowered her eyes.

  “I’m sure you do because you look at him the same way.”

  Perhaps she did, Alice admitted to herself. She’d only known the man for a few short days, and yet it felt as if the words between them were just the beginning of something. As if she would always know his plans, and he hers, as if what they each dreamed of would be the same, and their cares united. How did it happen? Why didn’t she feel this way with every man she met? And how could she deny how her body responded when he looked at her, smiled at her, touched her, even though the contact was accidental? She was on fire for him and blushed to think that she’d imagined him with his shirt off and straining at some manual labor. How could she restrain herself from brushing back the thick lock of hair that fell over his forehead?

  “I don’t understand myself,” Alice confessed, shaking her head. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  “Of course you haven’t. No one does until they fall in love,” Gloria said, meeting Alice’s protests with an impish grin. “But the gentlemen are waiting, and we should be with them to be introduced to the rest of the guests.” She tapped her finger against her mouth as if working out a puzzle. “Who were you a personal maid for?”

  “Senator Maximillian Shelby’s wife, Mrs. Jolene Crenshaw Shelby.”

  “I did not know her new married name when she moved to Texas. I only knew her as Jolene Crenshaw.”

  Alice nodded. “Were you acquainted with Mrs. Shelby?”

  “Not personally, of course, but I’ve seen her at functions and events when Stephen and I were first married. I would have been terrified to talk to her! But how gorgeous she is,” Gloria said.

  “She is a very beautiful woman who knows just what to say and how to say it.”

  “Then you must mimic what she does when we are with guests this evening.”

  Alice smiled. “I’ve already used that trick when Albert took me to the Windsor Hotel for a meal.”

  “Then you must use it again. Come along, Alice. The men are waiting.”

  Alice stood and straightened her skirts and her back. “Coming, Gloria,” she said with a smile. After all, she had promised her ma that she would enjoy herself.

  Alice soon found herself in the foyer beside Albert. She had little time to think of her nervousness, as couples had begun to arrive shortly after she and Gloria had stepped off the last marble step. Albert introduced her as his special guest to everyone. It was exhilarating to be with such an interesting and influential group of people, although she was rarely in company with any guests, she thought to herself, and more likely watching from afar.

  But she was included, Albert made sure, even explaining that she was in Mrs. Shelby’s personal employ until lately and had been gifted an early retirement from the senator and his wife for exemplary service, and that she’d decided to come home to Boston and help care for her sickly brother. Albert made her life sound important, even heroic, and she was able to speak to each new person with some degree of confidence, employing Mrs. Shelby’s habit of asking a specific question to a new acquaintance, giving that person reason to reply with comfort and giving her a chance to know each person a bit past a mere how-do-you-do.

  Albert turned to her as the last guest was led to the dining rooms by Mr. Higgins. “I know you were nervous, especially as many of my guests know each other and you knew no one other than me, but I hope you feel more at ease now. Did I tell you that you look beautiful this evening?”

  “Yes you did,” she said with a smile, and raised her brows. “And all your guests were very kind, especially after hearing your description of me.”

  “There was none of it untrue, was there?”

  “No, but it wasn’t as though I was her secretary. I was her maid.”

  “I didn’t say you were or weren’t either,” Albert said. “Give yourself a chance. And give me a chance if you are so inclined. You are very beautiful, fashionably dressed, and able to speak to people well, and with kindness and genuine interest. Let our guests deduce anything they’d like.”

  Alice looked up at him. “I don’t want to embarrass you. You’re a very important man.”

  Albert took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. “I am only as important as you deem me. Your opinion is the only one that seems to matter to me any longer.”

  Alice said nothing, and her eyes filled with tears. She composed herself quickly.

  “I’ve upset you, and it was not my intention,” he said, stepping away from her and motioning in the direction of the hallway ahead.

  Alice was seated to Albert’s left beside an older woman, Mrs. Farthaway, whose husband Albert spent some time talking business with, although he never allowed the general conversation to be silenced. But it was clear to Alice that Mr. Farthaway was an integral part of Albert’s project. Mrs. Farthaway was a member of a social committee that worked with sick children and she wondered if Alice would have time to speak to her group considering she’d been such a part of her brother’s care, and that perhaps she’d be able to spare two hours a month and attend their regular meetings.

  “I’m not sure that I have much to recommend me to your group, Mrs. Farthaway, although it is an honor that you’ve asked me,” Alice said.

  “Of course you do, dear. We are always on the lookout for conscientious young women to join us. And you are clearly that. Albert told me about your service to Senator and Mrs. Shelby during the Texas influenza outbreak. And anyone who has gained the graces of Jolene Crawford Crenshaw Shelby must have copious amounts of fortitude, my dear. Now don’t take offense on your former employers’ behalf,” she said kindly. “But Mrs. Shelby is undoubtedly formidable.”

  Alice smiled. “She is that, Mrs. Farthaway.”

  Alice enjoyed the food and wine, and listened to the other guests converse. These fine and wealthy folks spoke about the same things that everyone spoke about, family and triumphs and tragedies. Not so very much different than a conversation between her ma and Mrs. McKinnell. Alice let herself relax, enjoy the conversation, and especially the unguarded attention paid to her by Albert. She would be able to tell Ma that she was, indeed, a princess for the evening.

  When the night finally came to an end, Albert waited until all the guests had gone and called for his carriage.

  “I hate to wake one of the staff to serve as your chaperone while I escort you home,” Albert said.

  “That is unnecessary. And I’m sure you’re exhausted. You don’t have to ride with me. I’m sure your stablemen will keep me safe.”

  “I’m sure they would. But I hesitate to let you go. There is so much I’d like to discuss with you now that everyone else is gone and we can speak openly.”

  Alice nodded. “Please do not wake anyone. I had a wonderful time this evening, and enjoyed myself more than I thought possible. But I am very tired, and you are as well.”

  Albert opened the door for her and walked her to the waiting carriage. Two men sat on the driver’s bench and he told them to stay where they were, that he would hand Miss Porterman in.

  “This evening has been a dream come true.” Albert said and leaned toward her, bringing his face just inches from hers. He touched her cheek softly with a shaking hand, and she watched as his face, his lips, came closer and closer to hers. His hand warmed her, and she looked into his eyes, locked onto hers. “I cannot resist you, Alice Porterman. You are the woman I’ve been dreaming about.”

  Albert’s lips touched hers gently, tentatively, even reverently, and he let the rough stubble of his beard touch her chin lightly. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, now parted slightly, and ran its way around the edge of her mouth. Alice took a deep, shuddering breath. Whatever mysteries made one man’s kiss repugnant and another’s sensuous she could not explain, but she did know that her eyes were closed and she was breathing in short, static breaths, and there was magic and eroticism at the heart of his kiss that had now turned passion
ate. Albert slanted his head to kiss her more deeply and move his tongue in her mouth in a way that made her heart beat rapidly and her breasts harden against the fabric of her chemise.

  He broke the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. “We’d best say good night before my stablemen jump down to see what is the matter.”

  Alice nodded. “Yes.”

  “I will call on you soon, Alice.” Albert kissed the backs of both of her hands and then called up to the driver.

  Alice stared at him until she could no longer see his figure standing on the steps of his home in the glow of the gas lamps. She leaned back against the cushioned seat. She had much to decide.

  Chapter Five

  “What do you mean you won’t come down to see Mr. Donahue?” her ma asked her the following day.

  Alice busied herself putting away her things in her new bedroom furniture. “I have nothing to say to him, Ma. We had a lovely evening. I told you that. But I don’t have any interest in him apart from him being a pleasant man and don’t want to lead him to think otherwise.”

  “I don’t believe that. Not for one minute.”

  Alice dropped onto her bed and shrugged her shoulders. “Believe whatever you will. I am not seeing Mr. Donahue again.”

  Her ma stood for a few seconds longer and then let out a string of curse words under her breath. Alice heard the front door close and imagined Albert walking down the path to his carriage or horse. She would not go to the window to look at him as he walked away. She would not. She was worried she would throw open the sash and call out to him to stop and that she loved him. Where had that word come from? Love? But it was the only explanation for the way her insides felt as if her heart were crumbling.

  * * *

  “But what do you mean, Mrs. Porterman?” Albert asked. “She didn’t seem upset last night, in fact, I was certain that she enjoyed herself thoroughly, even aside from the fact that she told me so herself.”

  Maeve Porterman shook her head. “I think she had a lovely evening, Mr. Donahue. But she says this morning that she doesn’t want to see you. I don’t have an answer for you, but she’s my girl, a good one at that, and I won’t take sides against her.”

  “Of course you won’t,” Albert said, and tipped his hat as the front door of the Porterman home closed slowly. He stood there thinking, or not thinking, for some minutes and finally turned to his carriage driver to dismiss him. He would walk home and think and plan when he would call on her again.

  Albert spent the week recalling and reliving everything that had happened between them and could not for his life determine what had made her dismiss him so permanently without even speaking to him personally. He was hurt, which was an emotion he’d rarely had to deal with, and puzzled as well.

  * * *

  Alice was at the kitchen table encouraging Jimmy as he read from a primer when she heard a knock at the kitchen door. Her mother hurried there and stepped outside, even with the weather being bitter and her shawl still hanging on the hook beside the door. Alice opened the door to hand her her wrap and saw she was talking to her da.

  “Oh,” Alice said. “Excuse me. Here is your wrap, Ma. It is cold out here.”

  “Wait, Alice. I’m going to ask your da to come in out of the cold and see Jimmy before he’s off to work. But perhaps you’d rather him wait until a time when you are gone.”

  Alice looked at the both of them, now staring at her with trepidation. It occurred to her that maybe her ma and da had been seeing each other more, letting him get to know Jimmy, but with her living there now were unable to continue their visits. “Come in then. It is too cold to be standing on the stoop.”

  Maeve smiled, not looking at Alice, and took her husband’s arm. “Come in and visit with Jimmy. I’ve made a thick beef stew that you should eat some of before going to your work.”

  Alice was inclined to go up the steps to her room and read a book she’d borrowed, but she leaned against the doorjamb to the steps instead. Her da walked into the kitchen slowly, twirling his hat, and risking a look to her before dropping his eyes to his son’s face.

  “And what are you reading there, son? Learning your letters, are you?” he said to Jimmy’s nod. “’Tis a good thing. Then you won’t be shoveling coal like your poor dumb da!” he said with a laugh.

  Jimmy laughed, too, and Alice no longer wondered why he loved going next door to the McKinnells’ and spending time with the McKinnell boys and their father. He had no one but she and her mother, who babied him even though he’d grown a bit stronger in the recent weeks, and who had done so ever since the first sign that he was not healthy.

  “You are shoveling coal?” Alice asked him, and looked at his slight frame, although he looked better than he had weeks ago when he’d visited Jimmy when he and her ma lived at the church.

  He nodded. “’Tis enough to cover my room at the boardinghouse but not my fare, but your mother and you are good enough to feed me here and there. It’s enough until I can get something better.”

  “Don’t forget, Gerald, tomorrow we will move Jimmy’s bed and you’ve promised to help Bert carry it up,” her ma said.

  “Jimmy’s going upstairs?” Alice asked.

  “You go upstairs to sleep, Alice,” her brother replied. “And there is a room for me there. But I was too heavy to carry up when I was sick, but I am stronger now and will go up one step at a time if I must.”

  Alice patted his back and handed him water when he began to cough.

  “He’s been asking to move his things upstairs for months now,” her ma said, and kissed her son’s head. “Tomorrow is the day.”

  “This stew is heavenly, Maeve. You’ve always been the best cook in the neighborhood,” Gerald said between the small bites he took.

  “There is pie, too, though the apples in the cellar are nearly gone. We may as well eat them before they all go to rot,” she said, smiling at her husband. Maeve looked up at Alice. “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Donahue was here again this morning to see you and I turned him away again on your behalf. That’s four times this week. He looks as if he’s aged ten years.”

  “A gentleman caller?” her da asked. “What has he done that has made you refuse to see him, Alice?”

  Alice’s lip trembled as she looked at her da, who was now looking up sweetly at her ma, and at Jimmy. They were all waiting for her reply, but she could not give one. She was angry that her heart was broken and of her own making, with no sense as to how to move past the hurt she felt. And he, her da, making light of it!

  “He has done nothing to shame himself, or cause me concern!” she shouted angrily. “He is always the perfect gentleman, something you would know nothing about!”

  “Alice!” her ma chided.

  Gerald Porterman tilted his head and stared up at her, at her clenched fists and red face. “Then why won’t you see him, Alice? If he is such a perfect gent.”

  Alice burst into tears and ran from the kitchen to the safety of her room. She slid the latch on her door and lay across her bed to have a long cry.

  * * *

  The following morning, Alice heard furniture legs scrapping against wood and her ma’s and Mrs. McKinnell’s laughter. She opened her bedroom door to see Bert McKinnell and her da pushing and pulling the feather-stuffed mattress from Jimmy’s bed up the narrow steps.

  “Which way, Alice?” Mr. McKinnell asked.

  Alice hurried ahead to the small room and opened the door. “Prop it there against the dresser until you’ve brought the frame up.”

  Her da was huffing each breath but smiled at her as he went by. “Good morning, Alice.”

  She nodded. “Good morning.”

  The men returned with the planks of wood that made the bedframe and Ma and Mrs. McKinnell followed, carrying sheets and pillows. Her mother stopped in front of her and kissed her cheek.

  “You’ve got to be half starved seeing how you skipped the evening meal last night. There’s milk on the stoop and fresh bread on the table, and t
he room’s still nice and warm from me baking.”

  Jimmy came up the steps, one at a time, stopping to rest and hold the railing. “I will do this . . . every . . . day, Alice. I will be . . . stronger.”

  “Yes, you will, Jimmy. Ma and I are so proud of you,” she said.

  “Get in here, boy,” Mrs. McKinnell called to him. “You must help your ma put away your things.”

  Jimmy was smiling and edging along with small steps toward his room. Maeve was wringing her hands.

  “I’ll bring your meals to you until you’re stronger,” she said to her son.

  Jimmy shook his head and coughed a little. “No, Ma.”

  “But it’s so hard . . .”

  Gerald interrupted. “Let the boy try on his own, Maeve.”

  Alice watched as her ma and da stood quietly talking while Jimmy went into his new bedroom with Mrs. McKinnell. There was something different about her ma, a happiness in her eyes that Alice did not believe she’d ever seen before, and her da looked back at her with desperation and longing. When the moving was done and Jimmy was lying down for a nap, Alice found her mother in the kitchen washing dishes. Maeve was humming a tune and stepping to its rhythm. Alice sat down at the table.

  “Oh, Alice,” Maeve said. “I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you were going to the butcher’s.”

  “I’m going to the Lending Library first, and then to the butcher’s,” she replied.

  “Ah, that’s fine, dear.”

  “Ma? Would you like to have Da live here with us?”

  Maeve turned with a start, hurriedly drying her hands on her apron. “Did you ask me if I’d like your da to live here?”

  “Yes. That is what I asked. It seems silly to send him to the boardinghouse across town, and then to his work, and then here again to see Jimmy and have a meal, does it not?”