Her Lord's Table (2 page)

“We weren’t properly introduced, of course. I’m Lady Milthorpe.” The woman looked at her with upraised brows.

“I’m Susan Brody,” she replied, too focused on the small plate holding some cucumber sandwiches and a slice of butter cake to pay much attention to the niceties of social behavior.

Lady Milthorpe gestured with her hand. “You’ve obviously had a long journey. You must be hungry. We’ll continue our discussion in a moment.”

Susan didn’t need any further encouragement. Good manners, lady-like reserve or any other consideration fell before her hunger. Lady Milthorpe herself barely touched the food, but still, within a matter of minutes, she’d emptied the tray. Lady Milthorpe rang the bell and ordered more sandwiches.

Susan murmured a half-hearted protest, but Lady Milthorpe shook her head.

“I can certainly spare a few sandwiches. You need to take the time to regather your composure.” She leaned forward. “You appear to be unaware your brother had left the country. Had he expected your visit?”

“I don’t know,” Susan said miserably, although her misery wasn’t sufficient to make her put down the sandwich she held in her hand. “My mother wrote him several letters, but we had no reply.”

Lady Milthorpe folded her hands in her lap. “Perhaps you’d better tell me the whole story. There might be something I can do.”

Although she knew no reason why Lady Milthorpe should take any responsibility for Susan or for her brother’s disappearance, Susan found herself pouring the whole story in her hostess’ sympathetic ear. She finished the tale by describing what had happened just before Lady Milthorpe had appeared on her own doorstep.

“You poor creature,” the woman said. “Have you no other relatives in London? No one at all to whom you might apply for help?”

“No one,” Susan replied. In spite of her now full stomach, another wave of dizziness hit her as she came to an awful realization. If Charles had indeed left the country, if Lady Milthorpe had told her the truth, then Susan was stranded. She didn’t have enough money to go home, and no way of getting any.

She despised weak, crying females. No matter what had happened to her, she prided herself on staying strong, showing a determined, cheerful countenance to her mother and the girls, but she couldn’t stop the tears falling onto her cheeks.

“There’s no need for despair.” Lady Milthorpe placed her hand over Susan’s. In spite of the fire burning in the room, the touch of the woman’s icy fingers sent a chill rippling down Susan’s spine. “Would I offend you if I were to offer you an opportunity for some employment?”

Relief brought on another wave of dizziness. The woman had already been more than kind. Her good nature apparently knew no bounds. Any position offered to her by an obviously prosperous, socially acceptable person such as Lady Milthorpe had to be respectable.

Susan would be happy to act as a governess or a housekeeper. As the oldest daughter, she’d had plenty of experience in helping manage a household. Even if she were only to be offered a maid’s duties, she’d still accept gratefully. She couldn’t afford to be picky. “I wouldn’t be offended at all. I welcome the opportunity to find some respectable way to support my family, especially since Charles seems to have abandoned us.”

Lady Milthorpe looked her over from head to toe, her eyes assessing. Once more Susan felt an inexplicable chill.

“I have an acquaintance who likes to entertain, who takes pride in offering select guests a very special experience.”

“Someone who needs a housekeeper!” Excitement swirled in Susan’s chest. She knew she could oversee the production and service of meals to lend credit to any family. “Such a position would suit me perfectly.” She leaned forward, eager to show Lady Milthorpe why she could handle the job, despite her youth and inexperience. “Before my father died, we often held dinners and entertained. Even though I’m young for the position, I’m sure I could send up as good a dinner as would be required. I am quite adept at household management.”

Lady Milthorpe’s lips stretched into a tight smile. “There is no need to convince me. I can see you have exactly the qualities needed for this post.” She turned to face Susan but didn’t quite meet her eyes. “You must be tired. I’ll have one of the servants show you to a room. Oh dear.” She lifted two fingers to cover her mouth. The gesture seemed artificial but perhaps Susan was too tired or too unfamiliar with the ways of London society to tell. “How clumsy of me. This used to be
your
home. I’m sure you know your way around. I keep all the bedrooms made up. Do feel free to take the one you were used to sleeping in—or any other if it takes your fancy.”

Chapter Two

The next morning Susan awoke when the maid sidled in with the morning chocolate. Feeling guilty, because she was far more an imposition than a guest, Susan leaped from the bed. Her bag, which she had clutched to her when she’d knocked on the door but hadn’t given a thought to since, sat on a small side table. Her dress, which she had taken off last night, had been pressed before being hung up beside the bed.

When Susan made her way downstairs, Lady Milthorpe waited for her. “Breakfast is ready, my dear. I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I have had the staff lay out a selection.” She indicated a sideboard, where in the tradition of many upper class houses, the family served themselves for this one meal without the benefits of servants.

“Thank you, Lady Milthorpe. You’ve been more than kind.” That was an understatement. Lady Milthorpe’s generosity overwhelmed her.

“Please, call me Estelle. If you feel I have been kind, perhaps you can repay me by taking the position I spoke of last night. I sent a note to my friend. If you are still of the same mind, the post is yours.”

“Oh, thank you,” Susan said. “I am completely in your debt. I’d like to start as soon as I may. I shouldn’t remain here with you when I have barged in without an invitation. I don’t feel comfortable being treated as a guest.”

“I’m sure my friend would prefer to have you commence duties tonight,” Lady Estelle replied. “If it would be convenient for you.”

Susan bit her lip. She wanted to please Estelle, but a difficulty arose. “I…I didn’t bring a lot of clothes with me. My wardrobe might not be quite suitable for the position.”

“Any shortcomings in your apparel will not concern your employer. You will be provided with whatever is needed.” Estelle served herself a hearty breakfast of kippers, toast and eggs before returning to the table. “I suggest you rest here for most of the day. Make sure you have plenty to eat. We don’t want you going to your new job looking wan. Later you can bathe, then my carriage will take you to Lord Winslade’s residence.”

Susan’s mouth opened on an astonished protest. She didn’t have the experience necessary to keep house for an aristocratic family. She had thought at best, Lady Milthorpe might have recommended her to a prosperous merchant’s family, or some well-to-do landed gentry such as her own family had been. The lord and his lady must be very good friends of Lady Milthorpe’s if they were prepared to take on a new servant, sight unseen, purely on her recommendation. She wondered if Lady Winslade realized twenty-four hours ago Estelle had not known of Susan’s existence.

A moment’s thought before she uttered her concerns convinced her to keep quiet. If Lady Milthorpe and the Winslade family were prepared to give her a chance,
she
would have to be stupid to raise objections.

She supposed she should write to Mama, but the thought of having to tell her Charles had fled, in debt and in disgrace, daunted her. She eased her conscience by telling herself a few days could hardly matter. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, Lord and Lady Winslade might be as generous as their friend Lady Milthorpe and advance her part of her wages. She could send almost all of what she earned home to Mama. Then the news about Charles wouldn’t matter so much.

By the time the coachman brought Estelle’s carriage to the door, Susan was ready to commence her new life. She suffered no delusions. The betrayal by the lawyer combined with Charles’ desertion meant she would be, from henceforth, obliged to earn her living by whatever means possible. Her time as the beloved daughter of affluent parents had ended.

When she’d first realized their money had been stolen with little chance of recovery, Susan had accepted her chances of marriage had shrunk to almost nothing. This final step would put her on the path to eternal spinsterhood.

She had to deal with the reality as best she might. The situation could be far worse. If this post proved satisfactory to both to her and her employers, she would achieve the stability she needed to support her family.

* * * *

When she stepped out of the carriage ten minutes later, she looked up to see a graceful, pale sandstone building in the new Palladian style. Grand columns and wide doorways testified to the wealth and modern tastes of the owners.

As a servant, even one fairly high in the rank order of the downstairs staff, she knew she had to enter from the side. The front door was no longer available to her.

She picked up her bag, squared her shoulders and walked in through the iron gate leading to the servants’ entrance.

She rang the bell attached by a chain to the outside door.

“Yes? What do you want?” The woman who opened the door looked friendly enough, but made no move to welcome her in.

“I’m the new housekeeper,” Susan said.

“Not in this household you’re not,” the woman replied, folding plump arms across her chest. “Mrs. Lloyd’s the housekeeper. She ain’t going nowhere.”

For a moment Susan feared she’d come to the wrong house. But the carriage had dropped her off right here. Since Lady Milthorpe was a friend of the family there could hardly be any mistake. Still, better to check. “This is Lord Winslade’s establishment?”

“Yes, but I told you. We don’t need no new housekeeper.”

“But, Lady Milthorpe said…”

Instantly the woman stepped back. “Lady Milthorpe sent you, did she? You’re one of
them
…” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Wait here. I’ll have one of His Lordship’s men fetch you in and show you where you should go.”

Before Susan could work out what she meant or ask her to explain, the woman slammed the door in her face. She waited in complete astonishment until she heard someone clear his throat behind her. “Ahem.”

She spun around to face a tall, powerfully built man in black livery who reached out to take her bag. “If you’ll come this way, please. My lord’s guests use a special entrance so the regular staff are not disturbed by his…um…engagements. Follow me please.”

“I’m not a guest,” she began, but the man had already walked away. She could do nothing but follow him.

He led her to a door in the back of the building. High walls and hedges screened the entrance. No one from the neighboring houses would be able to observe any comings or goings. Susan’s heart beat a rapid tattoo. She hadn’t expected this at all. A belated sense of self-preservation made her wonder whether she had been too quick to trust Lady Milthorpe.

She told herself not to be foolish. This was not some gothic melodrama. No mad monk was about to leap out from behind the bushes, no matter how dark and gloomy they seemed in the gathering dusk.

Still, she picked up her pace to move a little closer to the servant. In comparison to her imaginings, he seemed reassuringly normal.

He opened the door and led her into a hallway. Candles in abundance burned in their sconces. The servant didn’t stop but led her up a well-lit stairway then down a long corridor. He stopped before one of the many closed doors.

“You’re to go in there and wait,” he said, turning the handle, then gesturing her inside.

“How long before someone comes?” Susan asked, stepping across the threshold. “I need to find out what my duties are supposed to be. Perhaps I had better speak directly to Lady Winslade.”

“There is no Lady Winslade. The master isn’t married.”

“But…but…”

The man paid no attention to Susan’s spluttering.

“Wait here. Someone will be along to fit you up shortly. There’s a while yet before things get started.”

“What things? Wait for what?” Susan asked, but the man had already walked out. She turned to chase after him, but he closed the door before she’d taken the first step. The sound of the key grated in her ears. He’d locked her in! She was a prisoner.

To make certain, she rushed to the door and turned the handle. Nothing happened. She slapped her palm against the smooth wood and called out. “Let me out of here. Come back and open this door.” But though she pounded, kicked and yelled no one came. Eventually she gave up, turning back to survey the room.

She discovered a dressing room, equipped with a table and chair in front of a mirror, a washbasin on a stand, but no other furniture. The one small, barred window high in the wall let in a little light. A shudder of fear skittered across Susan’s skin. She didn’t know why she’d been imprisoned in this room, but she wasn’t naïve. She’d put herself into deep trouble.

Time passed agonizingly slowly with nothing to do but perch on the hard dressing stool and worry. When the door swung open, Susan braced herself to run, but the maid who entered had the key turned in the lock before Susan had taken the first step.

She carried a flame-red dress over one arm. A bag swung from the other.

“Let me out of here,” Susan demanded.

The maid’s forehead crinkled. “I can’t.”

“Please,” Susan begged. “There’s been some mistake. I’m supposed to be taking up a position of housekeeper, but now I’ve been imprisoned here. If you let me go, I’ll go straight back to Lady Milthorpe’s. I won’t tell anyone who helped me.”

The girl’s lips twisted in a cynical smile. “Ya think Lady Milthorpe’d help, do ya? All that would ’appen is you’d be sent back ’ere and I’d lose me place. This might not be the most decent ’ouse in Lunnon, but the gentlemen as comes ’ere don’t bother us serving girls. The pay’s good an’ the food’s plentiful. I’ll not be puttin’ that at risk.”