by Karen Cogan
At the mention of the lord, Katharine sucked in her breath. She had been so busy sorting out the details of the accident that she had quite forgotten the reason for the trip. Now that it had all come back to her, she felt a lump of dread settle into the pit of her stomach.
The woman handed her a cup of tea with fresh cream skimmed from the pail. She cut three thick slices of bread and settled with her at the table. “I don’t mean to pry, but we are wondering who ye might be and who yer companions were.”
Katharine drew a deep breath. “And you deserve an answer after taking me in. She hesitated a moment, hating to admit where she was headed and to be soon assisted upon her way. Nonetheless, she opened her mouth to give an honest answer when a sudden impulse steered her away. “I am Ginny, maid to Lady Katharine Kirby. She and her chosen companion, the Widow Davis, were on their way to Fernridge Manor where Lady Katharine was to wed Lord Charlesworth.”
Mary stared at her with her mouth agape. “We had all heard of the proposed marriage. Everyone was talking about it. I cannot believe such a cruel accident has stolen Lord Charlesworth his bride.”
Katharine sighed and tried to look suitably sad. “Indeed. But I am afraid that it is true.”
Mary leaned across the table toward Katharine. “Tell me. What was she like? Lady Katharine, I mean.”
“Oh, she was quite the independent sort of woman. She was only going to see if it might suit her to marry Lord Charlesworth. Nothing had been decided from her part of the bargain.”
“She must have been very beautiful. I have not yet got to see her. What did she look like?”
“She had blond hair and eyes the color of a summer sky. But her appearance paled in comparison to her intelligence and charm.”
“I am sure ye are correct. Lord Charlesworth would accept no less.”
“Indeed. I would imagine his tastes are very exacting. It is all too bad, for I am sure, having known Lady Katharine, that his is the greater loss.”
Mary wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron. “I feel that I shall cry and I never even met the lovely lady. Angus must go right away to Lord Charlesworth and inform him of his loss.”
Katharine felt a moment of panic. No doubt Lord Charlesworth would want a look at his bride before she was buried. She was quick to assure herself that it had been years since they had met. He would never remember her appearance. She need only concern herself with what she should do next. She could not continue to impose on this kind woman and her husband. It was plain to see they had little enough to spare as it was.
She must come up with a plan that would allow her to thwart both Lord Graynor and Lord Charlesworth. Perhaps if she had enough funds at her ready disposal, she could have made her way to London for a season. She would surely meet an eligible duke or marquess who would challenge Lord Charlesworth for her hand and favor. Yet with her estate entailed upon her uncle, who had sent her away with only her dowry, she had little resources upon which to draw.
She was still pondering her predicament when Angus came in from his morning chores. He gave his wife a kiss and tousled the dark hair of his son. He turned to Katharine at her seat at a sunny window and asked, “And you, miss? How are ye today?”
Katharine smiled, warmed by his compassion. “I am feeling much better, thank you.”
As he sat to eat, Mary told him all about the occupants of the coach. He nodded as he finished a bite of barley bread. “Indeed, I shall go right away. Even if it is sad news, Lord Charlesworth will be wondering what has become of his bride. If I leave now, I can return by nightfall. I went out this morning and brought the trunks that were strapped to the coach.”
He turned to Katharine. “I thought ye might be desiring a change of clothes.”
“Thank you. That was thoughtful.”
After a farewell to his wife and son, Angus set about his journey.
As much as she enjoyed Mary’s company, Katharine spent a restless afternoon. She felt uneasy about the possibility of recognition. What if Lord Charlesworth remembered her better than she expected. Would he look at her and know that she was an imposter? These doubts tortured her as she sat resting in her chair. She would have preferred to pass the time helping Mary in the kitchen. But Mary would have none of it.
“Here now, ye fell out of a coach yesterday and hardly knew who ye were. ‘Tis too soon to be up and about. Perhaps, if ye know any, ye would tell little Peter a story and keep him out from under me feet.”
She spent the afternoon recounting every fairy tale she could remember. Peter sat spellbound at her feet. His large dark eyes took in every gesture. She found herself wondering what it would be like to live with a man who loved her like Angus obviously loved Mary. And to have a child…albeit one more tidy than this one, yet adorable nonetheless.
That evening, the three of them took a simple supper of corn mush. Peter delighted in telling his mother a confused jumble of The Brother’s Grimm. Mary gave Katharine a weary smile that spoke her thanks at keeping him amused.
It was late when Angus came home to the re-warmed supper that Mary put before him. Though she was eager for news from the manor, he was nearly too weary to oblige.
“I did not speak to the lord, though I had wished to speak me condolence. His overseer spoke to him and promised that a party would arrive tomorrow morning to claim the bodies. ‘Tis too bad, for she was a lovely lass.”
Mary nodded toward Katharine, who was making her bed on the lumpy cot. “Ginny told me all about her. She was smart and kind, too.”
“Well, nothing to be done about it now. I’ll see to the animals and join ye in bed.”
Katharine tossed and turned on the lumpy cot. She wondered how Peter ever got a decent night’s rest on it. She could only assume that he was used to uncomfortable beds since his light snores told her he was sleeping quite well upon the stone hearth.
She finally drifted into a light sleep and was surprised when Peter awakened her at dawn. “Have you got any more stories in yer head?”
His mother steered him gently away. “Ye’ll help yer father today, my boy. He can use yer hands after being gone all day yesterday.”
Katharine brushed her tangled hair from her eyes and dressed in a simple gown she had pulled from Ginny’s trunk. If she were going to act the part of a maid, she knew she must look like one also. She only hoped to have a chance to claim her own clothes before setting out again. And for that, she was still in need of a plan.
She heard the clatter of horses late in the morning. In spite of her disdain toward Lord Charlesworth, she felt her pulse leap in her throat. The men dismounted and trod toward the open door. She strained to pick out Lord Charlesworth but her childhood memory did not match any of the men she saw. She could only surmise that he was the man leading the party toward the door. She grimaced, knowing she would feel eternally grateful for whatever had inspired her pretense as a maid.
CHAPTER TWO
Katharine took in the figure whose stocky frame filled the doorway. He made no move to enter, but scowled at the inhabitants, his dark bushy brows drawn together. He bore a look of scornful impatience when Mary timidly invited him to come inside.
“No need for us to intrude. I am here to gather Lady Katharine’s body for burial at the manor. You may bury the others wherever you like.”
Mary moved toward the door. “My husband wrapped them in burlap. I will show ye where he put them.”
The stocky man hesitated in the doorway. “I understand that a maid survived the accident.”
His eyes fell upon Katharine. “She is invited to come to the manor for employment as planned if she wishes.”
Mary turned to Katharine. “Why that would be wonderful for ye, Ginny. I shall show them where to find poor Lady Katharine and return to help ye collect yer things.”
A maid at the manor? Katharine tried to take in the idea as Mary scurried off. She was thankful that she had not revealed herself to Lord Charlesworth who had weathered the past few years very ill indeed. H
e possessed nothing of the appearance or manners of a man she would wish to marry. But a maid at the manor? As one who had always been served, she knew nothing of such things. And yet, what were her choices? She could not return home. Perhaps it would be best to go along, collect her pay, and look for a chance to escape.
Mary returned. Her eyes were bright with excitement. “Imagine. Ye shall work at the manor. Angus and I were just discussing what to do with ye. I am happy that ye will be well set.”
Katharine swallowed hard. “Indeed, I have had good fortune.”
“We should have the men load the trunks. I wonder what they will do with Lady Katharine’s fine clothes.”
Katharine strode across the packed dirt floor to where the trunks lay. “I knew Lady Katharine well and I know what she would have wanted. She would want you to pick out several things that you could use.”
Mary gasped. “Oh no. I could never do that. That would be stealing.”
“It would not,” Katharine insisted. “Lady Katharine was very generous. That is just what she would do to pay you back for caring for me. We were very close, you know. She would want me to give you permission.”
Mary caught her lip. “Are ye sure?”
“Of course I am sure. Who else will use them now?”
Katharine opened the trunk. “Hurry, before the men are ready to load them.”
Mary wiped her hands on her skirt before plunging into the cottons and silks. She pulled out two cotton day dresses and a petticoat. “I do not know how I shall dare wear them. They are so crisp and new.”
“But you shall wear them…as a gift from Lady Katharine.”
Mary clutched them to her bosom. “I wish that I could thank her.”
The men’s voices moved toward the house.
“Never mind that,” Katharine said. “Put them away before Lord Charlesworth comes back.”
“Lord Charlesworth? He is not here.”
Katharine stared at her, puzzled. “But he was at the door.”
“No. That was his overseer, Mr. Seevers. He collects our rent each month.”
Katharine felt a layer of ice close over her heart. It seemed Lord Charlesworthhad not judged her demise of enough consequence to take the trouble of personally making this trip. This knowledge further convinced her that he was not capable of being the attentive and companionable mate that she craved.
Mr. Seevers paused in the doorway. “If you are coming with us, girl, get your things.”
Katharine bristled at his commanding tone. She was not used to being spoken to in such a way by the hired help. Yet, if her plan were to work, she knew she must play her part.
She forced civility into her tone. “The trunks are heavy, sir. Would you mind asking your men to load them?”
He barked orders and the two men hefted the trunks upon the waiting wagon. After thanking Mary and telling her to tell Angus “good-bye”, she sat in the seat with the wagon driver while Seevers and the other man rode horseback.
The men said hardly a word to her during the long afternoon ride. Yet, more than once she caught the driver glancing her direction and she did not like the way his gaze slid over her. She hoped she would not regret her impulsive decision to change her position.
When they arrived at last, Katharine thought she would expire from hunger and thirst. Yet even her deep fatigue did not keep her from gaping in admiration as they neared the manor. Since her visit as a girl, she had forgotten how the pond in front of the manor shimmered as smooth as glass, taking on a rosy glow in the setting sun. The house itself was of Georgian distinctions, rising tall and proud behind the gray stone walls. Garret windows looked down upon the small party as they drove past the sweeping cobbled lane that led to the massive carved door. She was surprised not to be let off until she remembered that she was arriving not as a guest, but a servant.
On the way to the stable, the driver dropped her at the back of the house. “Tell the cook you are new and she will give you supper.”
He nodded toward the back of the wagon as she climbed down. “Both of these trunks yours?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Sure they are.” H e winked at her. “Seeing as your mistress will not need hers, it can be our little secret. I will have them brought up.”
Katharine shivered, hoping she would not see much of this man.
She followed the stone path to the kitchen door and let herself in. The cook and kitchen maids looked up at her. She held her head high and announced. “I am to be a new lady’s maid. I was told to get my meal here.”
They looked a bit startled and then Cook, a heavy-set woman with a round face replied, “A lady’s’ maid. Well, this is an honor.”
Katharine swallowed hard, not missing the sarcasm in the woman’s voice. She thought perhaps she should try again if she would like any supper. “My name is Ginny, maid to Lady Kirby. After the awful accident I was told to come here.”
The cook’s face melted into a mask of sympathy. “Oh my, dearie. That must have been dreadful for you. Come and sit at the table and Peg, here, will take you up a bit of roasted chicken. Then, we will ask the housekeeper what is to be done with you.”
At the request of the kitchen help, Katharine recounted the wild ride, her tumble, and the overturning of the coach. She finished to clucks of sympathy and a cherry tart. She was relieved to have made friends after a bad beginning. She would have to remember that she was posing as one of many servants.
Cook sent Peg to summon the housekeeper, Mrs. Parker. She proved to be tall and thin, with a pinched nose, and sharp dark eyes. She dressed modestly in a high-colored gray dress. She gave Katharine a thorough assessment before speaking a word. “You were maid to our Lady Kirby, I understand.”
“Yes. I was to remain here with her after the marriage.”
“Well, there will be no marriage. So we shall see how you work out. Lord Charlesworth’s mother, Lady Charlesworth will see you in the morning. If you do not suit her, you will be sent packing. Do you understand?”
Katharine felt the blood rush from her face. Sent packing? Where would she go? She could not go back to her uncle.
“Do you understand?” Mrs. Parker repeated sharply.
Katharine nodded. “Yes. I understand.”
“Then follow me and I will show you your room.”
They climbed a back set of stairs, higher and higher until they reached the third floor. Mrs. Parker opened the door to a small chamber with the barest of furnishing. A narrow bed, a small wardrobe and a dressing table with a wash basin filled the tiny room.
“This is where you will stay until Lady Charlesworth decides what is to be done with you.”
She shut the door, leaving Katharine alone in her strange surroundings. She strode to the window of her small garret. She looked down far below and was pleased to see that she had a view of the garden. A man was walking alone. He paused and took a deep breath of the chilly night air.
She sighed as she watched the man disappear behind a row of neatly trimmed hedges. This was a beautiful estate. Had the romantic love she had dreamed about drawn her here, she was sure she could be quite happy indeed. But she had not been drawn by love. She had been driven by desperation. And now she must use her wits to make the best of things until she could decide what to do. Tomorrow she must impress the lady of the house. She remembered little about Lady Charlesworth except that she was plump and giddy and neglected the discipline of her son.
She turned from the window to prepare for bed. She planned to arise early to complete her toilet before being presented to Lady Charlesworth. Since Mrs. Parker had assured her that her future depended upon the interview, she was determined to make a good impression.
In spite of her intentions, she did not awaken until Mrs. Parker rapped sharply upon her door. “Breakfast is served in the servant’s dining hall at exactly seven o’clock. I suggest you come down immediately or you shall miss it entirely.”
Katharine scrambled out of bed. She found it dif
ficult to get used to such early risings. However, she knew she could hardly expect to rest abed while everyone else began their day.
She dressed hurriedly in a simple white outfit with cornflower blue trim that Ginny had worn. Her hair fell in loose waves down her back, its red sheen glowing in the stream of sunlight that touched her head. She pulled the tresses into a quick bun and tucked the wayward curls about her face into her cap. A quick glance in the cracked looking glass told her she was presentable, if far from elegant.
Her slippered feet took her quickly down the stairs. Most of the servants were finishing their breakfast by the time she slipped into a chair by a young girl who introduced herself as parlor maid. She favored Katharine with such deference that Katharine felt she might as well have been the mistress of the house.