“Alright, I give you my trust, sir. Please do not make me regret it,” she said.
“Very good,” he rode to her and pulled her onto his horse in front of her. He rode fast away from the docks and heading north.
Hilda was quite scared. She held on tight to the saddle horn in front of her. The man behind her, Captain Ross, was very strong with one arm around her waist holding her and keeping her from falling off the horse. She thought him a very attractive and dark stranger. He was reckless and courageous, someone that had showed her his bravery and his good sense, for he would not be doing what he was doing now in order to help her if he was not a good sort of man.
But even though she could feel his strength behind her, as his strong chest was against her petite back, she knew very well that he saw her as a child. For he had called her that many times. But she was almost six and ten years of age; indeed, young ladies younger than she were already wives. But perhaps she looked younger than her age and he thought her three and ten, or something similar. For why would he call her a child?
As they rode along, they suddenly were not along the cliffs any longer, and had moved Inland. She was constantly looking around, expecting that her brother would come out of nowhere. As the captain had said her brother had been searching for her, and could be anywhere within the area. She knew that the cloak hood on top of her head helped to conceal her red hair, otherwise it was a beacon to find her. But as they moved further north into Scotland, she saw more and more women and men with red hair as well and it gave her some sort of relief.
She noticed a change in the fields. They were quite different than what she was used to in England, the tall grass. These fields were quite swampy, and what she had heard called a moor. It was quite beautiful as well, and she could not believe that she had seen so much in so little time when for years she had seen nothing but the farm and the village where she lived. She had seen the ocean, the tall cliffs of the coast, and now she was seeing the Moors of Scotland. It was all overwhelming, and yet exciting at the same time, as she sat on a horse with a complete stranger. This was not the adventures she had expected for her life, but it was what was happening to her, and she accepted it.
The Highlands, Scotland
Two hours later they arrived at the inn and Captain Brookend made sure that she was well fed indeed. He seemed to know everyone in the inn that treated him like family. Hilda was glad for it, for he must be a good sort of man to have such a reception.
“Now, my man here is a trusted driver of passengers this way. He knows the way to my cousin Evan Black. Take this note with you, it explains all to my cousin as well as my return.”
“You are not coming with me?” she asked confused with her eyes wide.
“I cannot, for I must make the tide or my ship will be delayed. You will be alright. You are in good hands. I will return, Hilda Carson,” Captain Ross Brookend said as he bowed to her. Then he left her sitting at the tavern table, confused and alone.
After some time, the wagon full of peasant passengers such as Hilda were on their way. The road was cold and long as the wagon jostled along. The wind was fierce and the further north they went the colder and windy or it got. They were passing green fields and deep lakes. They were halfway to Black Manor.
"Where are you headed to, lass?" a woman who worked at the inn asked her as she handed her mug of ale.
"I am taking a position as maid in the house of Evan Black, "She said. As soon as she said it a hush that came over the wagon. She looked at them in astonishment.
"Are you sure want to be doing that? You are a bonny lass, surely you can get a position elsewhere. It is said that Evan Black is most foul, with a temper as black as his name," the woman said to her.
"I am sure I can manage. I do not need to interact with the man, only clean his large house. I heard it is very large, and I may never see him..." she said trying to convince herself more than trying to convince them.
"Aye, it is very large indeed, you can see it from miles away, the roofs touch the sky itself, but you would never catch me there working under that roof. Best of luck to you lass," she said.
She looked around and saw that everyone was staring at her and whispering; let them whisper. There wasn't much she could do anyway, but it did make her feel uneasy. She wished she had not known that the entire county knew of the foul moods Evan Black. It was not a good start to her new position, and she would rather know nothing and discover it for herself, instead of feeling anticipation and anxiety at what she might find.
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The mountains in the distance were already covered in snow, which meant it wouldn't be long before the snows fell upon them. As they crossed over a grand river, they finally came up on the small village of Campbelltown. It was only a few small shops, a blacksmith, a small inn, and a few thatched roof homes. Then there seemed to be nothing as the moor was covered in fog. It was like staring at a white sheet. The driver turned and looked at her and said, "I will have to light the lantern, as it will be hard enough for the horses to get through this thick fog," he said, as he jumped off the wagon, handing her the reins. She held onto them tight as he lit a lantern on either side of the wagon. Then they were on our way once more.
She was told that Campbelltown was in reach of the manor by foot, and perhaps it wa,s but in this deep fog she could not see the house. The driver went slowly and cautiously making her anxiety feel that much deeper. Then as though lifting the drapes of a window, they emerged from the fog into crystal clear green rolling hills and the grand house in the distance. She gasped at the sight of it. It was very large and stretch from left to right. It looked as though one could get lost within its walls. The roof was decorated with iron spires that reached to the heavens, and it's dark grey brick was stained making it almost black and gloomy. It looked very haunting indeed.
"Well, looks like people were not wrong, it is a very grand house is it not lass?" her driver said as he took in the sights pausing the horses.
"Yes, it is very massive and ominous," she said.
"Ominous? What is that mean? " the driver asked.
"It means big and dark," she said trying to remember that not everyone was educated like she was.
He moved the horses, and as he did she felt a wet cold drop on her face. It must be about to rain, and they were still a bit far off from the house. She started to panic, looking up at the skies which were grey with dark black wispy clouds. Then she felt another and another, and she started to see it accumulate on her skirt; she realized that it was not rain, it was snow. It was falling slowly and delicately as though to welcome them to the Highlands and the cold gloomy home of the moody and miserable Evan Black.
They finally arrived, and a man came out of the door and motioned for them to drive past the main door to the side servants entrance. They followed the man to the side. The driver jumped off stretched as another woman came out. She was in a grey wool dress that was sharp; it matched her sharp edgy look and cold face.
"What’s this then?”
“I was sent by Captain Ross Brookend to be a maid in his cousin’s house hold until he returns to retrieve me in several months’ time. He bid me give this letter to his cousin,” she said handing the lady the waxed sealed letter.
She briefly looked it over and then said, "I am Miss Thorn. You will be working directly under me. You may have a room in the servant quarters. Thank you for dropping off this woman. See yourself turned around after your horse has had its fill of the water trough and hay, if you can spare the time,” she told the driver.
“Thank you ma’am,” he said.
Hilda gave him quite an apprehensive look as she followed Miss Thorn inside.
They would not be going through the main door, as that was inappropriate.
The side entrance led them into a narrow brick hallway that was dark and cold. She assumed it would only be getting colder as the snow fell outside.
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bsp; "You are to stay in this wing of the house, unless you are doing your cleaning duties, which will take up the majority of your day. Is that clear? " she asked.
"Yes, Miss Thorn, "She said.
"There is a black dress in your room, there are three of them and that is what you shall wear all the time. It is your uniform along with stockings and boots. It is up to you to clean them. You are not to speak to the master, unless he specifically asks you a question, which is rare. He usually comes to me with manners of the house and I delegate. You will be like a ghost, if you see him. Do not make eye contact, do not speak, do not make any sudden movements. If you are cleaning in a room and he comes in, you must exit and come back to the maids quarters and only return when he is done, so that you may finish cleaning," she said, going on and on with rules and how she should act as she led her from one hall to another. It was like a maze. Finally, they came to a hallway that ended with one door; she opened it and it led into a very small room with one long narrow window.
"This is your chamber.
Do not leave this room until I come to fetch you, and please put your black dress on as you will be starting straight anyway, and do something with that unruly mane of hair.”
Her room was very small indeed, with a small wood-burning stove in the corner. She was glad for the small size and the broom, as it would be easier to keep it warm. There was a small bed on the one wall, and a chair and table just under the window. The walls were grey stone and she wished that she had lots of white linens and curtains to hang in order to brighten the room.
Hilda began to rearrange and settle as soon as she closed the door. She took off her boots and stretched and wiggled her toes, as she knew she would be in boots all day long cleaning. She began to disrobe and get into the required black dress uniform. It was best that she did this first, so that she was ready anytime that she might return. She undid her braids and pulled her hair up into a tight bun and slipped out of her dress and into the Black one. She pulled off her wool stockings and hung them on the back of the chair. She stared out the window as she took a seat on the chair to get some much-needed rest after the long ride. She noticed that the snow was sticking to the ground quickly covering up the green of the grass. She assumed this was the first snowfall of the season.
After some rest and some water, she lay down for a spell, then she put on her socks and boots, and waited. She was anxious to see the rest of the house, and of course to see the man himself, to see if all the rumours were true.
Knock! Knock! "Miss Carson, it is time" Miss Thorn yelled through the door.
She followed the cold woman who showed her to the cleaning supplies and how everything was to be done in such away, then she led her through the house to the first room that she would be cleaning. As she crossed the line from the servants area into the main house, she looked around at the grand furnishings and decorations. They walked down a long hall with tall ceilings, tapestries, and portraits, and she walked forward with cleaning supplies.
"This is ancestor hall, it is full of the portraits of the Black clan in paintings and tapestries. They clean it once a week with the gentlest of dustings as they are very very expensive and irreplaceable works of art. This one here is of Evan Black and his brother Douglas Black, clan laird." s
he said, pointing to a portrait of two men standing proudly. One was of a stout man with red hair and a full red beard with a round belly; the other was of a lean but muscular warrior, with long red hair and clean shaved face and a scowling frown. She wondered which one was her master.
"Follow," she said as she followed her down the quiet hallway and to a large arching door. She pushed it open and she had to contain her excitement. There were books that reached all the way up to the ceiling on every single wall. There was a large fireplace with a roaring fire inside of it which she thought was odd, as most of the fireplaces were not lit.
"This is where you will be working today and tomorrow, you will clean and polish every single piece of furniture as well as scrub the floors. Only dust the books, never with a damp cloth. That is all for now," she said.
Hilda looked over at the fire as though to ask why it was on. Miss Thorn followed her gaze and then said,
"Oh yes, you must be wondering why the fire is burning. That is another one of your responsibilities. This fire burns all day every day, as the master spends most of his time in here and he likes to walk into a warm library, which is why it is cleaned the most. All that soot gets everywhere. Make sure to keep this fire going there are logs against the wall. I will not send for you for dinner, as you must make your own way to the kitchen two hours after the sun sets. That is all," and she closed the heavy door behind her and she was left alone.
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Hilda wanted to jump up and down and begin to read every book in the library. But out of fear that perhaps Miss Thorn was outside the door ready to barge in on her to check on her at any moment, forced her to go straight into work. She gathered the cleaning supplies and put them in the corner of the room where no one would step on them should they walk in. And she went straight into work. She always worked top to bottom and did the floors last. She started on the one wall and began to dust the books and bookshelves, reading over the titles silently as her rag caressed the spine.
She spent the entire day happily cleaning and keeping the fire burning, perhaps people were over reacting as far is this place being a hostile environment. In fact she spent many hours alone that day, and was not around anyone else until dinner. The very next day she returned to the library to continue cleaning. The snow had been falling all night and day, and now everything was covered in snow.
Now that it was her second day, she felt a little more confident. As she was cleaning a book she felt a draught. She looked over at the fire and noticed that it was about to go out. She placed the book in front of the fire and began to stoke it with the metal wand. Then she grabbed a few more logs and placed them on the fire. She watched as the flames were brought back to life. She sat on the ground in front of the fire, cleaning up the extra soot and ash that was on the ground. Then she turned her attention back to the book, she looked up and around, "what's the harm in just a few minutes of reading... " she whispered to myself.
She opened the book, which was bound in red leather. It smelled amazing and she let her fingers trail over the pages. She began to read, and felt thrilled as it was the first new book she had read in years. She got so involved in the story that she did not notice when the door opened.
"Is this what you are being paid for, to sit in front of a warm fire and read my books?" a stern deep voice said behind her. It was thick with a Highland Scottish accent that she had never heard before. She was so thick it sounded like a different language, closer to the Gaelic tongue.
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Chills ran up her spine, and she knew that it must be the master. She felt extremely scared as she turned over her shoulder and looked at him with fright in her large green eyes. When she made eye contact with him, his facial expression seemed to change. She thought she saw his hard set lips soften a little. She recognized him from the portrait. He was the lean warrior. He had long red hair and curly locks to his chin, he was clean-shaven and had dark eyebrows that hovered over his green eyes.
He was very tall; long and lean but fit. He wore a yellow and Black tartan pattern across his chest. This must be his clan colours, she thought. He wore long boots up to just below his knees over his fitted trews. A white tunic was tucked into them with a high collar tied with a white scarf. He carried a letter in his hand. She thought he looked very dashing in his Scottish gentlemen clothes. But she was so terrified that she could not speak.
She stood up with the book in one hand and the rag in the other, she remembered that she was not to make eye contact or talk.
"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself, maid? Why do
you even look at the books? Do you even know how to read? I think not... " he said as he looked down upon her.
His tone and the way he was talking to her made her angry, and she for a second forgot her station. She stood up tall and straight and made direct eye contact with him and said, "Yes, I know how to read sir. And I was only on the floor to keep your fire going, and my curious nature overtook me, so I flipped through a few pages."
He looked at her stunned and she lowered her gaze, remembering that she did not want to lose her position, for where would she go and how would Captain Brookend find her? She felt ashamed of her behaviour.
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That day was the same as any other day, for Evan Black, since the start of his secret. Not many knew what had happened, all the chaos that his brother Douglas Black had caused. he was glad that he was far away, handling the matters of the clan and not living near his, not after what had happened in the past. He had been in a foul mood every day since that day. Being far away and isolated from everyone was the only way that he could deal with it. Never let other people interfere in your affairs, they will make it worse. That was a hard lesson that he learned.
He watched the skies outside his bedroom window, the grey and Black swept across the sky and he knew that snow was coming. He enjoyed the heavy snows, because people did not travel in the winter for the most part. This meant that his home did not get unexpected visitors, as the heavy snows made it near impossible to come this way. Therefore he always welcomed a harsh Scottish winter in the Highlands. He urged the snow to come, as he peered out the window he saw a wagon approaching. It was a meagre wagon with two people on it. What could it be now?
He made his way to the library to sit in front of the fire and get lost in one of the many stories that he was able to read at his leisure. It was the only thing that calmed his mind, the escape of reading. After everything that he had been through, he never thought that he could be happy again, so he didn't even try.
A Farm Girl's Despair (#5, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel) Page 4