The Companion of Lady Holmeshire (11 page)

Wills did not allow time for the dropped Breyton jaws to snap shut. “I can manage a more elaborate event for
this
cause,” he responded, “or are banquets and balls too much extravagance? Should that be the case, and some feel that it is, there should be No More Balls.”

“
But, My Lord,” Genevieve said cautiously, while reaching out and touching the top of his sleeve. “It is the situation. I am sure you are perfectly aware of how this fits, or does
not
fit, the socially accepted customs. A small dance, perhaps?”

This opened the occasion for a convenient declaration. “Balls are unacceptable? Then we shall attend no balls in the future. Nor will we throw any. I thank you for your perceptive observation, my dear.” Genevieve pulled her hand back quickly to pat her chest as her eyes closed; she briefly could not breathe.

Her mother jumped up to her defense, “Oh, no, Genny did not mean that at all!” She caught herself and floated back down to her chair with all dignity, hoping to reclaim some good will. “Oh dear, Miss... Miss... is it Carrington? Would you care for some more of the Rhine?”

“
No, ma’am, no, I am very satisfied. Thank you very kindly.” Ah! She had been invited into the conversation! The evening was a success.

***

The coats and wraps and carriages appeared, timed impeccably with the midnight goodbyes. The mood had mellowed considerably, with the advantage going to the Holmeshires, and on Breyton property! No middle class ball was settled on; no invitations were going out. The Queen could stay home, and the medals would be given out with pomp in some setting or another. To Wills, it was just the principle of it. But Genevieve was on notice about the tone of life at Holmeshire. Nicholas had behaved admirably all evening for those who were spending time with him, which alleviated some huge concerns, but it did not garner him any gracious reception.

Winifred stood chatting warmly with Lady Breyton, and the Marquess politely offered his arm to dear Lady Shaw for the stroll to her carriage. Wilfred took Emma on his, with Genevieve looking on frigidly, and expressed delight in the charming mixture of perfect weather, India and Shakespeare that night. He even managed a quote himself, later, as they neared Belgravia in the carriage.

“
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.”

“
Hamlet, Wills?” Winnie inquired.

“
Act III.”

***

Elizabeth had done Anne no favor in talking of the huge servants’ hall downstairs and its snarling occupants. The ultimate conclusion, Gwyndolyn had said in whispers to exclude Hattie, was that they ought to be thankful for the obsessive Barreby and the order he maintained, as well as his insistence on friendliness and an abundance of forgiveness downstairs. After all, how many times had he brought a lovely bouquet of flowers down for their table when the maids had put new ones out upstairs? And he had named each of the girls after one of the blossoms—Poppy, Heather, Honeysuckle… The Housekeeper and Cook had declined their names—Snake’s-head Fritillary and Round-headed Rampion. Mr. Barreby had received interesting fodder on his dinner plate that night! He was a great sport, though, and ate the flavorless soup made just for him, and burnt meat, while everyone else laughed their way through the good cooking.

***

Dinner at Belgrave was to be early for the servants, with the family being out that evening. Though the lady’s maids had spent a full night and day upstairs, they were now to descend into what Elizabeth termed the Inferno. Was the Duchess even aware of the dire situation downstairs? Anne insisted that Elizabeth go first and used her as a shield. How glad she was to be just a bit of a thing and that Lizzy had a hearty appetite!

Maids were still carrying food to the table when they arrived, and they received no greeting. They waited before sitting to see where it would be deemed appropriate; heaven forbid they take the wrong seat, Lizzy whispered to Anne. Somehow, though, the servants managed to spread themselves out to cover all the benches adequately, and Elizabeth had to speak up for sitting space. Grantham, at the head of the table, barked for “someone over there” to move over and make room. The wrong people moved, and it had to be done over again. There were neither flowers nor Flowers at this table, but, oh my, the good silver had been brought down, and Nobody was to say a word about it, Nobody being the girls from Holmeshire.

Anne was terrified to eat, for fear of her elbow touching the goddess sitting next to her, but was expected to manage. After all, there was nothing wrong with the food, and did she think she was the queen? And how could Miss Elizabeth have gotten her napkin so soiled already? It is a bit of work to get them clean; did she know? And must Anne tap her feet so relentlessly? There was no orchestra to keep time to, and they did not intend to hire one for her, at least not this week.

And then, yes, it happened! The poor girl, in trying to push the butter across to a kitchen maid, knocked over a pitcher of milk that was, after all, not just for her, but for all those at her end of the table! And now, besides the huge mess, some of which had splashed into other people’s dinners, and even their frocks and hair, good people were going to do without milk! Anne covered her face with her hands, which, it was pointed out, was of no assistance whatsoever. Did she not know where the rags were kept? …No, she did not…She was just about to break down in hysterical tears when the building above them parted, and all clouds graciously moved aside to permit warm rays of the sun to shine down upon the poor girl, in the form of a handsome young footman who stood up and shouted for some decent manners in that place! He then stepped over the bench and got Anne some rags. “There,” he said, “It is not so terrible, you see. Deidre (the goddess) did the same thing last week.” Harp chords and nightingales sounded and rendered everyone silent, or Anne deaf.

She had glanced up at the young man’s face for just a second with thankful eyes, but such a face it was, and it filled up her capacity for memory completely! What happened during the rest of that meal she could not recall, not whether she cleaned up the milk or ate another bite, or if anyone had commented on those subjects. In fact, she did not any longer fear the next mealtime, but greatly looked forward to it. She often peered down halls, in coming days, to see whether any handsome being was there carrying the tea service in the wrong part of the house!

That evening, Elizabeth had lost Anne entirely, and she had to talk to
herself
on the long climb back from the kitchen to the ladies’ rooms. She had not meant the comments for herself, but, irritated, had to formulate a reply to them anyway for lack of anyone conscious dwelling inside Anne’s dazed little body who might.

***

Wills, upon returning from Handerton and parting from his family in the entrance hall, with careful timing nodded Emma in the direction of some sizable windows overlooking the gardens. She was tired, but decided to accompany him. Surely, nobody would object to their standing and talking there, where anyone at all might pass by?

She was thankful that Anne came to unburden her of the things ladies carry and wear. How was she to know that the dear girl’s feet did not even touch the moonlight lying on the tiles? But Emma was thinking of Wills, and oblivious. She made an effort to suppress her feelings, though they rose up within her, nevertheless. Wills was happy, though conflicted. Emma was near, and that mattered more to him with each passing day.

“
Is it not quite pretty?” Wills asked her, staring down into the eerily moon-illuminated trees. “I suppose they will put a statue of me in there someday. What do you think? It is my fate, is it not?”

“
Sir. You must distinguish yourself first. Do you suppose that they will simply put it there to outshine the orbs and flowers and charm the ladies that walk through?”

He laughed at her remark. “I suppose they will, will they not? They put up portraits and busts of the least of us in family homes. Surely my comely jaw line recommends me in the garden of a household duke?” he asked, as he raised his chin and traced the edge of his face with his finger.

Emma glared at him in playful irritation, but made strict efforts not to flirt with this engaged and noble man. She indeed cared for his jawline, but determined to be the one to keep the conversation from becoming sentimental, if necessary. “You must prevent it, My Lord, ere it cause women to swoon when passing, or ladies to go home grieving that it is but a cold stone likeness. You suppose that you will afflict womankind for centuries down in that garden, do you not? Tomorrow I shall report your designs to the Master.”

“
My being his favorite nephew, you know, will stand me well in the situation.”

“
Your being the
only
nephew on his darling wife’s side will surely get for you a statue on that merit alone. However, I shall strongly protest, for the sake of the ladies of generations to come. Now, I am sure Anne awaits in my room, and she did not sleep well last night for all the changes. I should let the poor girl finish up with me and be off to bed.”

“
Suppose I had something important to say?” he retorted comically, with his eyebrows raised and his head tipping to the side.

“
Why have you not said it, then, My Lord?” she teased, “I believe Narcissus stepped into your path!”

“
I believe
you
brought up my charming features?”

“
Did I, then? Should that be so, then it was to send you off glowing, so that the lack of candles in the halls would not be your death, with your tripping over statues of charming nephews!” Emma guarded herself, for feeling very much like drawing nearer. “What, then, was so important?”

“
Important? Ah, yes. It was about my statue. Where do you think it ought to be placed?”

“
My Lord. Should they promise you a statue; I will be the first to nominate a position for it.” She looked around at the grounds below. “Do you, perhaps, care for cherry blossoms falling on you throughout the spring? Perhaps in hopes that you might attract more attention covered in pink petals? If so, should you have a statue, I will recommend that little nook,” she asserted. “Good night, My Lord.”

***

The darkness in Bermondsey left navigating difficult for an aging drunk, but Benedict found some way to arrive in essentially one piece and leaned his way heavily against the dirty wall to facilitate ascending the staircase. Lucy heard him coming and rose to unbolt the door. He fell inward, regained his footing and hollered at his son.

“
Charles!” Charles rolled over on the straw mat.

“
Eh?”

“
Git my boots off, lad. I’d better not bend over, you know? It could cause a bigger than Buckingham Palace problem. Lucy gets mad, you know?”

“
Paw!” He complained and covered his head with a ragged blanket.

“
I got news for you, Son.” There was a long delay.

“
Tell me in the morning.” Another long delay.

“
Lucy, git my boots off.” She grimaced.

“
Lucy, do it. I’m gonna make you rich, you know.”

“
I do not see how. It cannot happen. There is no way. I do not need a lawyer to tell you that!”

“
Well, I did get us a lawyer. And there is a plan.”

“
Tell us in the morning!!!” came from under the blanket.

“
We’re awake now, the lot of us,” Benedict sloshed. “and it is a good plan.”

Charles sat up, half asleep, and complained loudly. “Give the man some tea, Lucy, before he wakes up the whole house.” Lucy returned her kettle to the fire, and the irate, but resigned Charles shuffled the cards that were on the floor beside him.

“
Here’s the thing, Charles. There’s no law to get no money for us. None at all! None. What do you make of that! We shoulda kept that solicitor put, when he came, till he came up with something for us. But no, off ‘e goes!” He slammed down a boot. No reply was required. “But here’s the thing. This man, John Brown, is a genius. He’s come up with a plan. We gotta work our way into the household. Not all of us. One of us. Just one. And I think it should be me.” Benedict struggled with his boots.

“
Oh, Papa. That will never happen. There’s no way they’re going to let any of us in the door.”

“
That’s the thing, Charles. That’s the thing. They owes us. They owes us a lot. They know it. They’ll let us in.”

Now Charles was fully awake. “Yes. It might be that they would.” Lucy brought the tea and they sat down to deal cards and mull it over.

~
Chapter 6~

The Worlds Fall Apart

Seven a.m. breakfast was decidedly painless for Anne, who exchanged several facial expressions with her adored one, exposing her captivating dimples. It was worse than the night before for her sister, who now had to deal with all the rudeness and insults alone, while Anne was lost in a state of bliss. Lizzy was completely unaccustomed to having her sister doing as she willfully pleased, and it made everything ever so much worse for her.

The entire Belgrave staff had noticed the clock striking Love at dinner and had attacked poor Simon before the table was half cleared. He was in service, they pointed out, and there was no place for canoodling, or even for being distracted from his duties. But their attitude got discernibly worse at breakfast when they saw him seat himself as closely as possible to the enchantress. She had seated herself early, in hopes that he would arrive while there were still seats near enough, and they saw him throwing smiles and tender glances in her direction.