The woman was eyeing Miss Browne with obvious doubt. “Have you any experience?”
Miss Browne looked at Amanda, who simply nodded at her eagerly. Miss Browne folded her hands in front of her simple dress. “I fear that I do not have much.”
“Were you a maid previously? A governess?” Mrs. Sullivan seemed to be searching for something, but whatever it was she obviously found Miss Browne lacking. “We shall just have to see how you do.”
Graham could not help but interject, “I feel this is absurd. Surely you do not expect her to actually be your lady’s maid, Amanda? I thought you had decided that Katrina would be filling that role?”
“This is not of my doing,” Amanda said haughtily. “Charlotte wishes to not be treated as a guest. Would you have me go against her wishes?”
Graham looked at Miss Browne, but her eyes were firmly on the floor. There was little he could do but accept that what his sister said was true. He gave up and Amanda gave him a smile, as she often did when she got her own way.
Amanda looped her arm through Miss Browne’s arm and tugged the poor girl toward the stairs. “Let me show you where your room is.”
Graham and Mrs. Sullivan watched the two young women climb the stairs. Mrs. Sullivan made a noise of dissatisfaction. Before the woman could head off back to her work, Graham gestured with his hand for her to wait. “Despite my sister’s words, Mrs. Sullivan, let me make it very clear that Miss Browne is to be treated as a companion to my sister and nothing less. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Your Lordship,” Mrs. Sullivan said with a curtsey. “I do think that Katrina might take exception to the fact of being passed over, Sir.”
Graham sighed. “I can make no excuse for my sister’s behaviour.” Mrs. Sullivan nodded and excused herself with another curtsey.
Graham was certain that several of the household staff would take exception to not getting the promotions due to them as they would have been promoted up in succession after Katrina took her position of lady’s maid. However, there was little he could do about that. His sister did have the right to choose her own staff, no matter how ill-advised Graham thought it was.
The coming season would be trying enough with it being Amanda’s first. She was quite put out that she had to wait so long to debut, but she could hardly do so with Graham at war. He had had to listen to her rambling monologue about her struggles of watching her society friends go off to their seasons the year before.
Graham found it hard to reconcile Amanda’s spoilt and inconsiderate ways with how they were raised. Her ways embarrassed him, but they would be a mere inconvenience if he had an heir. As it was, Amanda or her future husband might be the ones who carried on the family line. That would not bother Graham if he thought she could be trusted with it.
A pang of loneliness hit Graham, as it often did during times like these. He felt isolated among his household. He had gone off to war not because of any great feeling of devotion to his country, but out of grief.
His wife had died giving birth to a son who had also perished. Graham could not reconcile that fact, so he chose to go to war. It seemed simple and logical at the time. Only things never are simple, and the years spent fighting had not assuaged the feeling that perhaps their deaths were somehow his fault.
His return to society had come with whispers and rumours that he would be taking a new wife. Graham was not against the idea, but it also sickened him. He strode down the hallway toward his study determined to finish his task.
There would be little time allotted for him to get work done once they set out for London. “Edward,” Graham said with pleasant surprise upon seeing his steward waiting for him in his office. “You are just the man I wanted to see.”
“I thought you might want to go over the repairs to the north property. The rains will slow things, but the men have it under control.” Edward stood up straight as a board with an unfaltering smile upon his lips.
Graham went over to his desk and dropped gracefully into his chair. “I am glad that at least one thing is going according to plan.”
“I heard there was a bit of a fuss at the door. Did your sister hire on some new staff without approval again?” Edward frowned as if he had already condemned Amanda’s motives without knowing what she had actually done yet.
Graham chuckled. “It is worse than that, and yet you have the heart of it. Do you remember the Browne family? It was before your time, but having grown up in the area you might remember the old vicar and his children.”
Edward pushed out his lips as he did when he thought. He brought a hand up to ruffle his ginger hair. “I do just about. He died of bad lungs, did he not?”
“He did,” Graham confirmed. “You helped me make arrangements for his son’s body to be brought back from Waterloo.”
Edward snapped his finger. “That is right. What does that have to do with your sister?”
Graham drew in a breath as he needed the fortitude to speak the ridiculous words. “She has hired Miss Browne, the vicar’s daughter, as her maid.”
“You do not say,” Edward said with a puzzled brow. “I take it that this does not please you. Does the girl have no experience in such things?”
Graham waved his hand dismissively. “It is not Miss Browne’s experience that bothers me, although I do not know that she has any. Miss Browne was my sister’s friend and companion when they were children. They took lessons together and were inseparable. To bestow such a low place upon her does not seem fitting.”
Edward smiled. “Ah, you are outraged on her behalf.”
“Yes, fine. Have your amusement, Edward.” Graham tapped the papers before him. “I just do not see it ending well for any involved. I fear the staff will take it as quite a slight.”
Edward grimaced and sighed. “Katrina will not be pleased. She has been rather outspoken about her soon-to-be ascension to lady’s maid.”
“In all honesty, she might still get that role. My sister is not being practical. She needs a lady’s maid who can handle the responsibilities of the position.” Graham looked down at the papers with disgust. “I fear that I shall be here until we step foot in the carriages at this rate.”
Edward assured him, “I will see if I cannot sort out the staffing issue.”
“Thank you,” Graham said with genuine gratitude. Edward had been a godsend with Graham’s absences due to the war and with the flurry of activities that constantly drew his attention upon his return. “I feel as if I am abandoning you yet again with this season nonsense.”
With a laugh, Edward walked over to Graham and put his hand on his shoulder. “Never you mind that. I do not mind doing my job, Your Lordship.”
“You have been a good friend as well. I do not pay you enough.” Graham patted Edward’s hand and the two men chuckled.
Edward agreed as he walked to the door. “You do not pay me nearly enough.”
“Remind me to up your pay then.”
Edward shook his finger at Graham. “I just might do that when I am done with these maids.”
Graham snorted with laughter and looked back down at his papers. Edward was a decade older than Graham but never ceased to amaze him with the amount of energy he seemed to possess. Hiring Edward had been one of his father’s last deeds before he became ill. It had proven a wise decision for Graham, who had needed the stability the steward provided even more since his return.
*
Charlotte sat in her room at Berwick Manor. Amanda had been as good as her word about giving Charlotte work to do. Before her lay garments that Amanda wished hemmed or mended.
It had surprised Charlotte that Amanda seemed to expect her to know how to do such things. She sat with a book open in front of her. It was a book her father had given her once upon a time so that she could have some guidance on how to do womanly work such as mending.
However, Charlotte had scarcely had time to pick the book up and only really knew how to do embroidery from her days taking lessons with Amanda. Sure
ly seams should not be that more complicated. Charlotte smiled as she held up the garment. It was not the most beautiful seam she had ever seen but she was rather proud of herself. She had only attempted to mend her own clothing before and did not mind the odd lumpy seam. She wondered how Amanda felt about such things.
There was only one way to get an answer to that particular question and Charlotte dreaded it. She gathered up the garments and headed out into the hallway. She met a couple of the upstairs maids dusting. “Good morning,” Charlotte said.
The women did not even bother lifting their eyes from their work. One said to the other in a voice loud enough for Charlotte to hear, “Some people think they are above their station.”
Charlotte’s face went hot with embarrassment. She hurried on past the women and suffered their quiet condemnation. Once she was around the corner, she drew in a breath to settle herself. She gave Amanda’s door a soft knock.
“Enter!” Amanda’s voice sounded so cheerful that Charlotte cringed.
She had no choice but to enter and she forced a smile onto her face. “Good morning,” Charlotte said as she shouldered the stack of clothes so she could use her hands to open and close the door.
Amanda tittered with laughter. “You look like a workman in the fields hoisting crops.” Why that was as funny as Amanda found it Charlotte had no idea, but Amanda was obviously too amused to notice that Charlotte was not laughing.
“I brought your clothes,” Charlotte said hesitantly. “I must warn you that I am rather new at mending. I normally only do so for myself.”
Amanda picked up a dress off the top of the stack. “I see why,” Amanda said with disdain. “I think I may have to toss this out completely. I can see the stitching.”
“I am not seamstress,” Charlotte said flustered.
Amanda clucked her tongue at her. “Do not get so worked up. I am not the one that requested to work, but I would think with the request would come to some amount of skill. What did you do all these years?”
Charlotte closed her eyes. She took a breath to quiet herself. “I had lessons the same as you.”
“Yes, well, I do not have to know such things, but I would think a woman of your bearing would have some practical knowledge.” Amanda put down the dress and put her hands on her hips. “Where did you learn to sew?”
Charlotte admitted, “From a book. I had no mother to teach me.”
“Neither did I,” Amanda reminded her.
With a grimace, Charlotte softened her voice, “I am sorry, Amanda. Truth is that I do not know how to do some of these things you ask of me.”
“You are the one who wanted it this way. We have an arrangement.” Amanda’s voice was condescending, but her eyes held mischief. Charlotte did not like being a source of amusement for the girl.
She leaned over to pick the clothes back up, but Amanda stopped her. “Come now, let us learn from our mistakes,” Amanda chided. She picked up a coat and tugged on one of the buttons. “With all your books something as simple as a button seems beyond you.” Amanda yanked the button off the coat. “This will simply have to be sewn on again, this time properly.”
Charlotte wanted to walk out. She wanted to throw that button down and stamp on it. But she simply took the button and the coat, along with the rest of the clothes and left the room. She walked numbly back to her room, past the maids without even hearing their remarks, and straight to her bed where she collapsed down as hot tears spilled out of her eyes.
Mrs. Wilson had been wrong. This was not a great opportunity. Amanda was not the girl that Charlotte remembered. Her mischief held cruelty that had not been there before. Had it?
Charlotte rubbed her eyes and gulped down a breath. She was stuck here.
Her situation before might have seemed dire, but at least she was free to do what she saw fit. Now she was trapped at Amanda’s whim and she feared where her whims would go next. Charlotte heard the bell over her bed ring.
It would be Amanda wanting her tea. She pulled herself together, smoothed her dress and dabbed her eyes. Maids did this all the time. Surely she could.
This was only Charlotte’s first week, but it was the week of preparation for season, which apparently put the whole household on edge. The preparations seemed completely out of proportion to Charlotte. Who needed all those dresses that were being delivered? With all those new clothes, why did Amanda need the mending?
Charlotte trudged back along the hallway thankful that the whispering maids were gone this time. She opened the door. “You called?”
“You really should work on addressing me properly,” Amanda told her, then waved off her words. “Yes, I would like my tea. Tell Henrietta to put extra honey on my pastry please.”
Charlotte nodded and left the room. She was not trained as a maid and had no idea how she was supposed to behave most of the time, nor did Amanda seem willing to explain what she was doing wrong. Amanda seemed to greatly enjoy teasing Charlotte about her errors.
The walk down to the kitchen took forty-five steps. Charlotte counted them to keep herself calm. The downstairs staff seemed every bit as set against Charlotte as the upstairs staff did.
“Charlotte,” Mrs. Sullivan’s clipped voice rang out.
Charlotte forced a smile onto her face as she turned towards the housekeeper. “Yes, Mrs. Sullivan?”
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Sullivan was forever asking her that question. Charlotte would have found it amusing it the woman was not so jarring.
Charlotte went blank for a moment under Mrs. Sullivan’s critical glare. She blinked. “Oh, yes, I am going to fetch Aman– I mean Miss Easterly’s tea.”
Mrs. Sullivan’s lips pressed into that thin line of disapproval. Charlotte was not entirely sure the woman had another expression. She certainly had not seen it if the woman possessed one.
“Then do so swiftly. I have a chore for you.” Mrs. Sullivan sighed at a maid who scurried through the entrance hall. “Beatrice, hold your shoulders up. You are not a hunchback.”
Charlotte felt bad for the maid, who now had Mrs. Sullivan’s attention, but it freed her to leave while the woman’s scrutiny was elsewhere. She hurried on to the kitchen, mentally counting. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine.
“Did the little companion get lost?” It was Katrina. She was an upstairs maid, but there she was standing with one of the other maids outside the dining hall.
Charlotte shook her head. “I have to go get tea for Amanda.”
“Oh, calling the Ladyship by her given name, are we?” Katrina scowled at her. “You should learn your place.”
The other maid said, “Heard Miss Easterly scolding her, Katrina, for not knowing how to sew a button.” The maid gave Katrina a grin.
Katrina smirked. “I am amazed every day that she learnt how to walk.”
“I have to be going,” Charlotte said as she turned, but Katrina’s companion was clearly not done with her as the girl hurried over to block Charlotte’s path.
The petite little maid giggled. “Shh. She might cry, Katrina. I heard she does that a lot.”
“Poor thing,” Katrina said in a simpering voice to Charlotte. “Don’t feel too badly for her, Gretchen. I am sure those meals she enjoys with His Lordship ease her troubled heart.”
Gretchen tutted. “Yet she has the gall to act as though she is put upon.”
There were footsteps and the two maids were quickly gone into the dining room leaving Charlotte alone. Lord Easterly came around the corner and gave Charlotte a look of concern. “Are you quite well, Miss Browne?”
Under the Seductive Lady's Charm: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 4