The Lady's Maid (4 page)

The sleepy young kitchen maid, Elsie, a child of ten recently acquired from the workhouse, stopped raking the embers in the range and turned with a start when Kate entered the room, but her frightened expression dissolved into a broad grin when she realised that it was her friend and protector who stood before her, and not one of the older servants who took grim pleasure in bullying a skinny little girl.

‘Good morning, Elsie,’ Kate said with an encouraging smile. ‘Well done for getting the fire going so early. It makes my job so much easier.’ She hung her bonnet and shawl on a peg in the hallway, returning in time to see Elsie puff out her chest, blushing with pleasure at the unaccustomed praise. Kate glanced at the crumpled bedding on the floor by the range. ‘You’d better stow that away before Cook comes down,’ she said gently. ‘You know she doesn’t like an untidy kitchen.’

Elsie scrambled about picking up the thin palliasse and blanket that served as her bed. ‘Yes, miss. Only I thought I’d best see to the fire first.’

‘Quite right, and you succeeded splendidly. Put the bedding in the linen room and then you can have a nice hot cup of tea before the others descend upon us like a flock of hungry birds.’

Elsie scampered out of the room carrying the bundle, which was almost as big as her. Kate made the tea and while it was brewing she set out the trays with the special china which was reserved for the housekeeper, the butler and Miss Hickson. She had observed
the
strict hierarchy of the servants’ quarters from an early age and now it was second nature, but all her sympathies were with young Elsie who had so much to learn. Despite her wiry frame, Elsie bore all the marks of a sickly child who had clung tenaciously to life through the scourges of measles, mumps and scarletina that ravaged the young occupants of the workhouse, taking many of them to an early grave.

Kate took a tray to Mrs Evans and another to Miss Hickson. She hurried back to the kitchen to snatch a quick cup of tea before her next task which was to light the fire in each of the family rooms. She poured the tea, adding a generous amount of milk and a lump of sugar for Elsie, and taking the biscuit barrel from the shelf in the pantry she gave one to Elsie, winking and holding her finger to her lips. ‘Not a word to anyone and don’t leave a trail of crumbs or you’ll get me sacked.’

Elsie gobbled the biscuit, wiping her lips on her sleeve. ‘Ta, miss. You’re a good ‘un.’

‘I don’t know about that, but I do remember what it’s like to be ten years old and always hungry.’ Kate ruffled Elsie’s cropped hair. ‘Don’t forget to put on your mobcap. You know how strict Cook is about neatness.’

Elsie swigged her tea, glancing about nervously. ‘I’ll do it now.’

‘Good girl.’ Kate took the cups into the scullery and washed the incriminating evidence before the scullery maid could tell tales to Cook. She then set about the backbreaking job of cleaning out the grates in the bedrooms and reception rooms, before hefting coal
scuttles
and bundles of kindling up many flights of stairs in order to light the fires. After that her duties consisted of carrying ewers of hot water to the bedchambers, and the less pleasant task of emptying and cleaning chamber pots.

Josie’s room was always last on the list as she slept late every morning, and was to be left undisturbed until she rang the bell for her morning chocolate. Lady Damerell had given strict instructions that Miss Josie was to have breakfast taken to her room on a tray. It was common knowledge below stairs that her ladyship was convinced that her daughter was delicate, and needed constant nurturing. This, Kate was told, had begun when Josie contracted a fever of unspecified origin as an infant, after which her doting mother had decided that she was too fragile to be treated like a normal child. Kate knew that her friend was made of much tougher material but Josie, always quick to take advantage of a situation, played on her mother’s anxieties in order to get her own way in everything.

Kate set the silver chocolate pot on a side table close to Josie’s four-poster bed with its silk hangings and Italian-quilted satin coverlet. She pulled back the heavy damask curtains, allowing the morning light to filter in from the square, and was about to leave the room when Josie called her back. ‘Kate, come here.’ She snapped into a sitting position, beckoning to her.

‘Yes, Miss Josephine?’

‘Don’t call me that when we’re alone.’ Josie ran her hand through her tangled mass of raven dark curls
with
an exasperated sigh. ‘Stop behaving like a servant, Kate. This is me you’re talking to.’

‘But that’s what I am.’ Kate eyed her warily. ‘What can I do for you, miss?’

‘You can start by acting normally, for goodness’ sake.’ Josie swung her legs over the side of the bed, stood up and stretched. ‘I’m bored to death, Kate. I want to go shopping and you must accompany me.’

‘But that’s impossible. You know I can’t do that.’

‘Why not? If I say I want you to come with me, who is going to stop you?’

‘Mrs Evans for one. I’m just a housemaid, Josie.’

‘It’s never stopped you when we’re down in Dorset. You and I do all sorts of things together, and Sam used to join in too.’

Kate shook her head. ‘That was a long time ago.’

‘It was last summer, if I remember rightly.’ Josie lifted the pot and poured hot chocolate into a bone china cup. She sipped, gazing at Kate over the gold rim. ‘I’ll speak to Mrs Evans and make her give you the time off.’

‘It won’t do any good.’

‘Huh. We’ll see about that.’ Josie put the cup down, her frown melting into a persuasive smile. ‘Come on, Kate. Where’s your spirit of adventure?’

‘It’s all very well for you to demand this and that of the servants, but I have to live amongst them, and if I lose my position here I’ll be lucky to get a job as scullery maid in a respectable household.’

Josie opened her mouth as if to argue and then closed it again, nodding her head. ‘All right, you win. I’ll tell Mrs Evans that you’re in desperate need of a
new
pair of boots. And don’t argue with me, I’ve seen you limping about as if each step was agony. I’d give you some of my cast-offs but my feet are bigger than yours. Compared to you I’m a big, clodhopping cow, and you’re a dainty little gazelle.’

The comparison was totally unjustified and the ridiculousness of it made Kate chuckle. ‘That’s utter nonsense.’

Josie did a twirl. ‘That’s better. Now fetch some hot water and tell Mrs Evans that I want to see her now.’

‘You can’t summon her to your room, Josie. She’d be furious.’

‘See if I care. Tell the old witch I’m waiting, and if she doesn’t like it I’ll tell Mama that she disobeyed an order and made me ill.’

‘You’re wicked, Josie.’

‘Yes, dear, I know. It’s fun, isn’t it?’

Tight-lipped and with spots of colour emphasising her high cheekbones, Mrs Evans sailed into the kitchen with her hands clasped in front of her like an affronted Mother Superior. ‘Coggins, you’re to accompany Miss Josie on a shopping trip this morning. Have you finished your tasks?’

Kate had just come from the scullery clutching a bucket of hot water in one hand and a scrubbing brush in the other. She paused in the doorway. ‘I was just going to scrub the hall floor, Mrs Evans.’

‘Minnie, you’ll have to do it.’ Mrs Evans turned to the tweeny, who was mopping the quarry tiles. ‘You will take over the rest of her duties until midday.’

Minnie’s mouth drooped at the corners and she shot an angry sideways glance at Kate. ‘Yes, Mrs Evans.’

‘But I need Minnie here with me,’ Cook said crossly. ‘I’ve got luncheon to prepare for the mistress and some of her friends and the family are entertaining tonight, so there’s a five-course dinner to prepare. I can’t do without her for a whole morning.’

Mrs Evans raised her eyebrows and Kate could see a vein throbbing in her temple. It was not a good sign. She held her breath, not daring to say anything.

‘Well, then,’ Mrs Evans said after a moment’s reflection. ‘The second parlour maid will have to help Minnie.’ She shot a searing look at Kate. ‘And you will take her place serving at dinner this evening. You will work longer to make up for the time lost this morning.’

‘Yes, Mrs Evans.’ Kate forced herself to sound meek but inwardly she was seething at the unfairness of being punished for something that was none of her doing. All this fuss had been caused by Josie’s habit of riding roughshod over anyone who stood in her way. Such behaviour had not mattered when they were younger, but now things were different, especially in London where the gap between the classes was even wider than in the country.

‘Go then,’ Mrs Evans said, pointing dramatically to the door. ‘Go with Miss Josie, but don’t think this is the last you’ll hear of this business, Coggins. Servants who get too friendly with them above stairs invariably come a cropper.’ She whisked out of the kitchen, leaving Kate to face an irate Cook and a rebellious
Minnie
. Elsie poked her head round the scullery door and seeing the looks on their faces she retreated hastily.

Half an hour later, Kate followed Josie out of the house. They set off on foot, Josie having refused Toop’s offer to send for the barouche. His expression was one of outraged dignity as he closed the front door, causing Josie to cover her mouth with her hand in order to stifle her laughter.

‘Poor man,’ Kate said, walking a respectable two paces behind her mistress. ‘You’ve hurt his feelings.’

Josie stopped, proffering her arm. ‘He’ll recover in time. Walk with me, Kate. I’ll not stand for this silliness any longer.’

Reluctantly, Kate took her arm, glancing over her shoulder in case any member of the household happened to be looking out of the window. ‘It’s not the done thing,’ she murmured. ‘What will the neighbours say?’

‘As if I care.’ Josie tossed her head and her dark eyes gleamed with mischief. ‘I’ve been cooped up in that house for days. I feel like a caged bird but now I’m flying free and so are you.’

Her good spirits were infectious and once they were clear of the square Kate began to relax. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Soho Bazaar. It’s in Soho Square, which is only a short walk away. I’ve heard all about it and longed to go there but Miss Hickson refused point blank, saying that it was not the sort of place for respectable young ladies to be seen. Such nonsense.’

‘Why would she say that?’

Josie’s dimples deepened and her eyes gleamed
mischievously
. ‘Because louche gentlemen go there to ogle pretty women. It’s considered a fashionable thing to do, so I’ve heard, and I want to see for myself.’

Kate was not convinced. ‘Perhaps Miss Hickson was right this time.’

‘She’s never right. I hate the old trout, but Mama thinks she can do no wrong, and Hickson trades on Mama’s good opinion. If it weren’t so ridiculous I’d think that Mama was sometimes a little afraid of the wretched woman.’

Kate tugged at her arm, holding her back as Josie was about to step off the pavement in the path of an oncoming dray. ‘You’ll get run over if you aren’t careful.’

Josie tossed her head. ‘They wouldn’t dare. Anyone can see by my clothes that I’m a lady. They wouldn’t dare knock down a baronet’s daughter and her maidservant.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Kate said, losing patience. ‘How would they know who you are?’

Josie gave her a pitying glance. ‘They would just have to look at the way I hold myself to know that I’m different from the hoi polly.’

‘Do you mean the hoi polloi?’

‘You’re such a pedant, Kate. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother with you.’ Josie held up her gloved hand and marched across Tottenham Court Road, causing a carter to rein in his horse. He shook his fist at them, swearing volubly.

‘Sorry, mister,’ Kate said breathlessly as she was dragged helplessly towards the other side of the street, much to the amusement of a group of ragged urchins.

‘Give us a penny, lady.’ The boldest boy held his hand out to Josie.

She looked him up and down, taking in his filthy appearance from the top of his lice-ridden hair to his bare feet. ‘Go away or I’ll call a constable.’

Kate snatched her hand free and opened her reticule. She had three pennies that she had been saving towards a new pair of boots, but she could see the children’s bones sticking out like gnarled twigs beneath their grime-encrusted skin. They all looked as though a good meal would do them the world of good. She tossed the coins on the ground and they fell on them, scrapping like wolf cubs over a juicy piece of flesh.

‘You’re a fool,’ Josie said, quickening her pace. ‘They’ve probably got more money than you have.’

‘You could have spared them a penny or two.’

‘Not me. I look after myself. I don’t care about anyone else.’ She chuckled. ‘Well, maybe I care a bit about you, but don’t let it go to your head.’

‘As if I would.’

Josie took her hand and tucked it in the crook of her arm. ‘No, you always manage to keep calm. I’ve never known you to have a fit of the megrims. I don’t know how you do it, Kate Coggins, but I’m full of admiration.’ She squeezed her hand. ‘And sometimes I could shake you and tell you to shout and scream and get angry, as I do.’

Kate smiled. ‘It wouldn’t do if we were all the same. But please stop at the kerb or better still find a crossing sweeper when we get to Oxford Street. I really don’t want to end up in hospital with a broken arm or worse.’

‘You have no sense of adventure, but I will take care. I don’t want to get my new gown muddy or the rakes and libertines won’t take a second look at me.’

They arrived at the two-storey bazaar in Soho Square without further mishap and headed straight for the rooms devoted to the sale of items which held a special appeal for ladies. Stalls were ranged on either side of the aisles, selling gewgaws, ornaments, trinkets, gloves, jewellery, millinery and fine lace. Josie swooped upon them like an eager magpie attracted by glitter and sparkle. Kate was more cautious and examined the price tags before replacing the items with some reluctance, having given her last penny to the street urchins. Josie purchased items randomly: a feather fan, a bead necklace and a piece of lace which served no purpose other than being pretty. She bought a blue satin bonnet trimmed with velvet bows and immediately gave it to Kate, saying that she did not like it after all and the colour would not flatter her complexion. She bought a pair of white kid gloves and a china cat with green eyes simply because it reminded her of a pet she had owned as a child.