Eve

by Beverley Hughesdon

  On next, to ‘The Noble Lord who rules the State—’ (Lord Binham), coupled with ‘The Noble Lord who cleans the plate—’ (footman William). The rector had to stand in for ‘The Lord High Bishop orthodox’, but there was no problem with ‘The Lord High Coachman on his box’ – he was sitting frozen-faced in the first row behind the quarantine gap.

  Back to the refrain, ‘For everyone who feels inclined—’, then the minute that was finished I swung into the Chorus’ part,

  ‘Sing high, sing low,

  Wherever they go,

  They all shall equal be!’

  In my role as the Chorus I did a rapid run-through of all the main aristocrats and servants once more – refrain – and the final, triumphant repetition of my principle,

  ‘And all shall equal be!’

  I stood waiting for the applause. It didn’t come. But then, in the actual opera the chorus jumped straight on to, ‘Then hail! O King,’, so probably they didn’t realise I’d finished. I smiled, encouragingly. Nothing. The silence lengthened. I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks. Well, alright – I didn’t expect Lady Stokesley to see the joke, or the Duke and Duchess, for that matter – but surely someone – my face was on fire by now. I looked over to where Lord Rothbury was standing, with Billy just beyond him – and loyal Billy began to clap. No-one joined in – he faltered to a halt.

  Then Lord Rothbury moved forward, hand upraised. ‘No applause yet, ladies and gentlemen. This turn has not finished.’ He leapt unhurriedly up on to the stage, and called, ‘Would the male chorus step forward, please.’

  There was a relieved buzz from the audience as the bachelors jumped up. I let my breath out, and turned to look at Lord Rothbury – he’d gone over to the piano and was speaking rapidly to Mr Parton.

  By the time the members of the chorus were assembled he was back beside me. An expectant silence fell, as in his parade ground voice he announced: ‘And now, from “Iolanthe” – the Marquis’ reply.’

  As Mr Parton played the opening bars I turned to face Lord Rothbury, who went down on one knee before me and sang in his deep, dark voice,

  ‘Spurn not the nobly born

  With love affected,

  Nor treat with virtuous scorn

  The well-connected.

  High rank involves no shame –

  We boast an equal claim

  With him of humble name

  To be respected!

  Blue blood! Blue blood!

  When virtuous love is sought

  Thy power is naught,

  Though dating from the Flood,

  Blue blood!’

  He waved in the chorus, who, manfully led by Dr Travers, roared out the refrain, ‘Blue blood! Blue blood—’

  Under their cover he murmured, ‘Give me your hand,’ and when I did so, he lifted it to his lips – and kissed it!

  The audience were laughing now and I began to giggle, as his deep voice rose in,

  ‘Spare us the bitter pain

  Of stern denials,

  Nor with low-born disdain

  Augment our trials.’

  He lost the line – but managed to pick it up again from Mr Parton, who’d been softly singing the words behind us – then he was safely on the home straight,

  ‘Hearts just as pure and fair

  May beat in Belgrave Square

  As in the lowly air

  Of Seven Dials!

  Blue blood! Blue blood—’

  The chorus of bachelors had started clapping almost before they’d finished their final ‘Blue blood!’ – the rest of the audience joined in.

  With my hand still firmly gripped in his, Horseface swung me round to face them, murmuring, ‘Now, let’s have one of those curtseys of yours.’ As I sank to the floor he bowed low beside me, and the applause redoubled. ‘Down again.’

  I heard Lady Lydham saying to her mother-in-law, ‘Trust Monty to have organised a jape with one of the housemaids!’ Everyone was still clapping – as I raised my head from my white-aproned knee I thought, of all the fun I’ve had since I first put this uniform on, this is the best – oh! Another brilliant idea!

  He drew me up, and as if on cue said, ‘And now there’s the little matter of whom you intend to grant your favour to—’

  As he led me to the side of the stage I told him, ‘There’s a special song I’d like – and it’s meant tae be sung by a bass.’

  ‘That’s alright then,’ he sounded relieved. ‘Let me have it.’ He reached out for my posy but I put it behind my back. ‘Nae, ye go down there – I’ll throw it tae ye.’

  ‘Suppose you miss me?’

  ‘Nae, I willna miss – ye’re too big a target.’

  I tested the weight of the posy, getting the feel of it. By now he was standing back where he had been before. Raising my favour I threw it hard – directly at his broad, white-waistcoated chest. But this time he was ready for me – his hand flashed up and caught it. There were cheers from the young bloods, and relieved murmurs from the older members of the audience – who I suppose had been afraid I might sling it to Billy – the aristocrat who cleaned their boots!

  Lord Rothbury came marching back to the stage and held out his hand to me. ‘Down you come, young woman.’ Seizing hold of his strong warm fingers I jumped.

  Still holding my hand he asked, ‘Now, what’s it to be?’

  Giggling, I whispered my choice in his ear. ‘Dae ye ken that one?’

  ‘Indeed I do.’ He summoned his male chorus, went over to Mr Parton, and then, once I was safely back on my bench, announced, ‘From “Patience” – Colonel Calverley.’ With an extremely martial air, he boomed,

  ‘When I first put this uniform on,

  I said as I looked in the glass,

  “It’s one to a million

  That any civilian

  My figure and form will surpass—”’

  What a smashing day! And it wasn’t over yet – there was still the dance to come…

  Chapter Thirty One

  The dance – when did it really start? Was it when we went up to the sewing room to collect our freshly ironed dresses? As Lucy gave me my costume she exclaimed, ‘I don’t know how you dared to do it, Eve – going on stage and singing like that, in front of all the gentry! Still, I suppose you could hardly say no, when Lord Rothbury arranged it.’

  Glad was sharper. ‘If he did. You don’t half ask for it, Eve Gunn.’

  I tossed my head. ‘Them as dae nae asking, dinna get.’

  Glad snorted. ‘One day you’ll get more than you bargained for. And it won’t be that long off, the way you’re carrying on now.’

  Lucy interrupted. ‘Oh, Eve – Miss Ames sent her maid up with these for you.’

  A pair of white cotton stockings and two soft black leather pumps with criss-cross laces – which fitted perfectly. Nothing could go wrong tonight.

  Or did the ball really start when I walked into our sitting room and saw the other girls already gathered there – looking so very different in their finery, as I did in mine? H.H., resplendent in royal blue, led us through the green baize door and out into the great hall, where the footmen, gardeners and grooms in their best suits waited on one side, and the ladies and gentlemen on the other.

  Was that the moment it began – when Mr Parton slipped away from the second group, flicked up his tails, sat down on the piano stool and played the opening bars of the first waltz?

  Or was it when I saw Mr Brandon and Captain Cholmondeley bearing down on me neck and neck – to be blotted out by a pair of broad shoulders and a deep voice saying, ‘My dance, I think?’

  He led me out on to the floor and I reached up to him. He asked, ‘Whatever do you think you’re doing?’

  Blushing, I snatched my right hand back from round his waist and explained,

  ‘In Dancie Gordon’s classes most o’ the boys wudna do the waltz – sae with being taller, I had tae dance the man.’

  He showed his big, strong teeth in a broad smile. ‘I assure yo
u, I’m quite capable of playing the male role – tonight.’ And obviously, he was. Taking me firmly by the waist with one hand he opened the other in invitation. I placed my own hand in his broad palm, and felt his warm, strong fingers close over mine as he commented, ‘It’s nice to dispense with the usual gloves – one of the advantages of a servants’ ball.’

  As he swung me out on to the polished floor, I asked, ‘What are the others?’

  ‘A greater degree of informality.’ I cast a dubious glance at Lady Stokesley and Mr Taylor, proceeding in stately fashion around the room. Noticing, he added, ‘Especially after the supper interval – when I shall be claiming a number of dances from you.’

  ‘Claiming! Don’t I get any choice?’

  ‘No.’ Using his whole body, like Dancie Gordon always told us, he swung me round in a perfect turn before telling me, ‘You owe them to me, young woman – after the way I pulled you out of that hole you’d dug yourself into at the concert.’ I giggled. Another turn and we were in the shadows under the gallery where he murmured, ‘You know, you do ask for it, young Eve.’

  I exclaimed, ‘That’s just what Glad said! But as I told her, them as dinna ask, dinna get.’

  His hold on me tightened. ‘There’s certainly some truth in that. But the question is, Eve Gunn – what exactly are you asking for?’ He’d steered me up into the drawing room corner by now, and we were circling with tiny steps in the patch of deep shadow there – his grip on me so tight I could hardly move.

  I gently kicked his ankle, in time to the music. ‘If ye hold me sae tight, I canna dance properly.’

  Releasing me slightly he asked, ‘Is that your only objection to my holding you in this way?’

  I suppose it was – because I liked the feel of the muscles in his chest, the strength of his arm round my waist, and his breath close to my ear. But I wasn’t going to tell him so, so I compromised with a ‘Mm—’

  We were moving out into the light of the hall now, and his hold relaxed – then we began weaving in and out of the pillars – until we reached the library corner, where he drew me close again, too close – or was it?

  Voice husky in my ear, he murmured, ‘“Mm,” really won’t do – do you like me holding you like this? Yes, or no?’

  I admitted, ‘It’s nae “no”.’

  He laughed. ‘Then I think, young Eve, Gladys may be wrong in one respect. I’ll be the one who’s doing the asking, tonight. I hope you’ve not forgotten those forfeits?’

  I whispered into his white waistcoat, ‘No – I’ve nae forgotten.’

  He gave me a quick nip of the behind in reply before murmuring, ‘I’d better get you out into the open again – your sergeant-major’s looking this way.’ Doris, sedately circling in William’s arms.

  Out in the light he asked politely, ‘And did you enjoy the concert, Miss Gunn?’

  ‘Aye, I did.’ And more formal – now we were at arms’ length again – I said, ‘An’ thank ye for singing with me, the way ye did. I was getting a wee bit embarrassed.’ He snorted. I continued, ‘I dinna ken “Iolanthe” sae well – I didna realise Lord Tolloller was a marquis.’

  ‘He isn’t, he’s an earl – and, more seriously, a tenor! So I haven’t sung that part since my voice broke – still, needs must – Lady Stokesley was looking extremely shocked.’ I giggled. He steered me under the gallery again and I moved closer so he could hold me tight if he wanted to. He did. Husky-voiced he told me, ‘You are a naughty little puss cat, you know.’

  ‘I’m not a cat, and I’m not little, either.’

  ‘No, you’re a filly – and quite a tall one, too. In fact, I’d put you at something over seventeen hands – seventeen and a half, I think.’ He swung me neatly round under the gallery again. ‘Five foot ten – am I right?’ He was, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him so. ‘Am I?’

  ‘Mm.’

  He asked very firmly, ‘Yes? Or no?’

  Reluctantly I admitted, ‘Yes.’ But two can play at that game. ‘An’ I guess you’re – nineteen hands tall?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Aye – you’re a gey big stallion, you are.’ For a moment he stopped dancing completely. I said accusingly, ‘You missed the beat!’

  ‘Of the music, yes. Look, young Eve – I think we’ll leave this conversation until after the supper interval, if you don’t mind.’

  I didn’t mind, now I’d got my own back on him for comparing me to a horse. We danced out into the hall again, where he told me, his voice low and discreet, ‘Now, I can assure you that it does a young housemaid’s reputation no good at all if a guest demonstrates a clear preference, so I daren’t risk another dance with you until after the interval. And I’ll have to keep my distance at supper, too – since your heads of department will be presiding over that event. But after the interval, when only the youngsters are left—’ His hand tightened over mine.

  I was sorry when the music finished – except that Captain Cholmondeley and Mr Brandon nearly knocked each other over in their rush to ask me for the next dance. I selected Captain Cholmondeley, and graciously promised the one after to Mr Brandon.

  And so it went on.

  Polka, barn dance, another waltz, the Galop – I’d never been in such demand. Bachelors, gardeners and grooms were jostling for my hand – it was marvellous. In fact Dr Travers had to almost elbow Lord Ernest out of the way in order to secure me for the Highland Schottische. What bliss! He said, ‘You really are the Belle of the Ball tonight, Eve!’ So it must be true. More bliss!

  I love the Schottische, and he was a marvellous partner – we twirled and whirled in perfect harmony, and I gave myself up to the heady pleasure of it. At the end he said, ‘That was most delightful! Your dancing is truly worthy of your Scottish origins – you and I must have a reel together later, after the interval.’ At this rate, after the interval was going to be even more fun than before, and that was saying something.

  Lord Rothbury did keep his distance at supper. When I went over to thank Miss Ames for lending me her shoes I noticed he was holding court to a flock of ladies’ maids. I returned to my bevy of bachelors – who were turning out to be a much jollier crew than I’d expected. Even Dr Travers was cracking jokes. Gosh – I could hardly wait to claim my prize.

  Except that I failed.

  Oh, I won the hornpipe competition alright – no problems there. Dr Travers and Lord Rothbury did a demonstration first, and very impressive it was too.

  The pair of them came walking in in their shirtsleeves and bare feet, sank down on their haunches and folded their arms, while Miss Ames tuned her fiddle. Then, she brought her bow down across the strings and they were off – great long legs kicking out, faster and faster, in perfect time.

  We all clapped and cheered, then William, who was M.C. for the evening, called in the females, and half a dozen maids danced in turn – but they performed their hornpipes standing up. I know you can do it that way, but Uncle Fergus would never have allowed us to – proper sailors went right down, and that was that.

  I admit, dancing a low hornpipe in skirts would have been pretty difficult, if not impossible – but I had my trusty breeks on ready. Shoes, stockings and black velvet bodice were already off, and I’d fastened my braces. So when William called out, ‘Any more ladies want to try their luck?’ I dropped my skirt behind a pillar and ran out, to gasps of: ‘She’s wearing trousers!’

  Positioning myself in the centre of the hall I dropped on my haunches, nodded to a grinning Miss Ames – and was off. To perform one of my very best hornpipes, though I do say it myself. As I stood up and bowed, bachelors, gardeners, grooms and footmen all roared their approval. I knew I’d won even before William announced my victory. ‘And now, who’s to be the lucky man, Eve?’ He stuck out his chest. ‘How about it, then – you’ve only got to ask?’ I retorted, ‘Flo wudna be sae pleased if I chose you.’ There was laughter, and squeals.

  I spun round to the cluster of bachelors. There he was, my hero,
with his jacket back on again, but his dark moustache still damp with sweat – and suddenly I’d lost my nerve. I was shy – appallingly, paralysingly shy.

  I felt such a fool. But to go and ask Dr Travers for a kiss, in front of everybody – I just couldn’t do it. But I had to choose someone – the audience was expectant, Glad looking green with envy – I couldn’t kiss Billy, could I? Lord Rothbury made a little pouting movement with his lips – oh no – he looked far too confident – but who?

  I spun round again – and there was my answer. Running lightly across to the piano I announced, ‘Ma choice is the man who’s made this evening possible – Mr Parton!’ Kneeling down at his feet I offered him my cheek. He leant over from the piano stool, and I felt the brush of his beard and moustache and the soft touch of his lips, as he gave me the most delicate of kisses. There was a roar of approval. Then he stood up, his face brick red, and stammered, ‘Thank you, Eve,’ before bowing to me. More roars and clapping accompanied me as I jumped up and headed for my pillar. As I reached it William announced behind me, ‘And our next dance is The Galop.’ One of my favourites!

  I shouted back, ‘Give me time tae put ma skirt on!’

  More laughter, and William called back, ‘Alright, Eve – but get a move on!’

  I did get a move on, not even waiting to replace my velvet bodice – I left it on the floor with my breeks and braces. Anyway, it was cooler without it.

  The minute I arrived back William called, ‘Take your partners, please’ and I saw Horseface striding confidently towards me, looking smug. I grabbed Billy. Lord Rothbury stopped – his smugness vanished. He’d have to try harder than that to claim me. Besides, Billy was more fun to gallop with. In a couple of minutes Lord Rothbury was on the floor beside us, partnered by Miss Ames, who galloped almost as vigorously as we did. Almost, but not quite – Billy and I really did have a glorious romp.

  The music stopped – and all at once I was in Lord Rothbury’s arms. Claimed. Meanwhile Miss Ames had seized hold of Billy. ‘I’ll dance this polka with you, youngster.’