by R. J. Koreto
“Thank you, my lady.” She had not realized she was grinning in a most inappropriate way, but it only charmed Lady Seaforth, who smiled again.
“This is your place of employment, June, but it is also your home. I wish you a long and happy stay here.”
She took tea in the servants’ hall that afternoon, and although Mr. Cumberland was severe, the younger servants were welcoming and even chatty. They told her the marchioness was strict but not cruel, and the marquess was very busy and took no notice of the servants, except the butler and his valet. The young lordship, Charles, was away in the army, and then there was the daughter of the house, Lady Frances, about whom everyone was a little quiet.
Indeed, the only confusing moment was when Agnes, the older maid who was to train her, asked Mr. Cumberland if June would be taking care of Lady Frances, who still lived at home.
“Why do you ask, Agnes? Is your work so onerous you are already pushing your assigned tasks onto your new junior? You will continue to care for Lady Frances as head housemaid. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Cumberland,” she said. And then she muttered, “Lucky me.”
Mallow didn’t understand. She knew it was a mark of distinction to care for the young lady of a noble house. Why didn’t Agnes want that job?
The next few weeks were spent learning her job and getting used to the pattern of life in a great house. The other maids shared gossip when Mr. Cumberland was out of earshot. She heard the young lordship, who only visited occasionally, was handsome and charming.
“But he doesn’t . . . I mean . . .” Mallow had enquired. She had heard about households where young men took advantage of servant girls.
“Oh no, never here. Lord Charles is the perfect gentleman.”
“Worse luck,” said another, and they laughed.
“And what about Lady Frances?” That didn’t get an immediate response.
“She’s not your typical young lady,” said one maid finally. “Runs around a lot, God knows where, and God knows with whom.” Indeed, Mallow had only caught sight of her a few times, briskly walking in or out of the house. “She argues with her parents a lot.”
“She argues with everyone a lot,” said another.
That made Mallow curious. The other maids may indulge in impossible daydreams about marrying the young lord and becoming the next Lady Seaforth, but Mallow wanted to meet Lady Frances.
And so she did.
Late one evening Mallow was the last one in the servants’ hall. Being the junior maid, she had the job of tidying everything before morning. She heard scratching outside the servants’ entrance, and thinking the noise came from stray cats, she unbolted the door to reveal Lady Frances trying with little success to draw the bolt from the outside with a hatpin.
“Oh!” they both said, staring at each other.
“You must be the new girl—June, isn’t it?”
“Yes, June Mallow, my lady.”
“This probably seems rather odd to you.” She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well, as Mallow had no idea how to respond. “You see, I was out with friends for dinner, and we were going to see some works by an artist someone knew and hear a poet. Mother said I had to be home after dinner, but the evening was so interesting. I thought I could slip back in unnoticed.” She sighed. “Cumberland will see how late I came in and tell my mother. I’ll never hear the end of it. My spending allowance will be cut off for a month.” She looked forlorn. “Well, there’s no helping it. I’ll go upstairs and see if I can talk my way out of it. Anyway, thank you, June.”
She took a few steps into the servants’ hall, past an astonished Mallow, then turned. “June, you know what the other servants are doing now. Could you sneak me past them into my bedroom?”
Now Mallow realized why the other maids were a little leery of Lady Frances.
“I . . . I suppose, my lady. But you can just stay here, my lady. In a little while, Mr. Cumberland and the rest will go to bed and you can slip upstairs.”
“But before that happens, my mother will knock on my door. If I’m already there, I can say that I let myself in earlier through the front door and no one saw me. But if I’m not there . . . couldn’t you help?”
Later, Mallow couldn’t say exactly why she did it, but Lady Frances had such a pleading look, and the sense of adventure tickled her. Also, she was curious about this young lady who visited artists and poets. It had been Mallow’s understanding that young ladies did nothing more than attend well-supervised parties until they found a husband.
“Just follow me, my lady.”
It was indeed a bit of an adventure. Mallow told Lady Frances when to make a run for it when Cumberland’s back was turned as he checked the hall clock and then when to slip past the footman the second he went into the morning room to make sure the lights were extinguished. Once upstairs, Frances thought she was clear, but before she could reach her room, Mallow suddenly grabbed her and dragged her into an unused guest bedroom.
It was hard to tell who was more surprised—Lady Frances that a servant had laid hands on her or Mallow that she had shoved a lady of the house.
In the dark room, they heard the purposeful tread of a woman leaving the room of Lady Seaforth—it was Pritchard, maid to Frances’s mother.
“The tigress always lays out your mother’s night clothes at this time,” said Mallow.
“The tigress?” asked Frances.
Mallow flamed in embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, my lady. It is Miss Pritchard’s nickname among the maids. Please don’t tell—”
But Lady Frances was desperately trying to stifle her laughter. “June, that is too funny. Yes, she is as fierce and sleek as a tigress. It is perfectly fitting. But don’t worry—your secret is safe.”
When Pritchard was safely out of the way, the two women made a final dash for Frances’s room. Clothes went flying, and Mallow quickly found a nightgown for Frances, so when her mother looked in a few minutes later, she found her daughter in her night clothes, with Mallow brushing out Frances’s hair.
“Franny, why isn’t Agnes tending you? And this should’ve been done more than an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I was so busy writing letters I lost track of time. Then I saw June on the stairs, and she offered to help.”
Lady Seaforth raised an eyebrow. There was something wrong here, but she couldn’t tell what. Mallow hid her surprise that Lady Frances could lie so fluidly.
“June, I’ve heard good reports of you from Cumberland.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“But don’t let my daughter take advantage of your good nature. Good night to both of you.”
Both girls went limp with relief when Lady Seaforth left.
“June, you are priceless. Now go to bed, I’ll brush my own hair—although you do a fine job.”
“It’s quite all right, my lady. It needs a good brushing.”
“I always get too bored to let Agnes finish. So never mind, it’s late.”
“When I’m done, my lady.”
Frances spun around. She wasn’t used to being thwarted, especially by a servant.
“The sooner you turn back, my lady, the sooner I’ll be done and the sooner you can go to bed.”
Frances started to say something—then stopped, smiled, and obeyed the maid. The brushing finished in silence.
“Thank you. You were quite right.” Her copper hair gleamed as it hadn’t for a while. “Thank you again—for everything. Good night.”
All pink and feeling pleased with herself, Mallow went to bed. She thought that was the end of it. She didn’t see Lady Frances for a few days, except coming and going. But one evening, while she was putting her clothes away in her little dresser, she found the drawer jammed, thanks to a large bag someone had stuffed in it. Astonished, she pulled out skeins of the finest wool, which she never could’ve afforded.
A note fluttered to the floor, and Mallow picked it up.
June,
I am sorry for involving you and thank you most deeply. I inquired with Agnes, who mentioned you enjoy knitting. I was told this is the very best wool and enough for mittens and a muffler to keep you warm this winter.
With thanks,
Lady F
It was a final bit of wonder. If a few coins had been left for her, that would’ve been kind, thought Mallow. But that Lady Frances had taken the trouble to find out what she liked and to shop for her—Mallow was inclined to believe Lady Frances was a rare one indeed.
That night had eventually led to her current position as lady’s maid. She thought about Miss Garritty, lady’s maid to Mary, the current Marchioness of Seaforth—Frances’s friend and sister-in-law. When Mallow was promoted, Garritty had congratulated her but warned her life would not be predictable working for Lady Frances—something Mallow had already realized. Lady Frances was going to live in a sort of hotel, and everyone heard his lordship express reservation about some of the organizations Lady Frances was involved with. And not to criticize, but it seemed to Miss Garritty that Lady Frances had picked up some strange ideas and manners during her years in America. Well, America—what could you expect? “I wish you success, June, and I will say your promotion was well-deserved, but I wouldn’t have your job if they doubled my pay.”
Kat and Frances slept through the night. In the morning, Frances was pleased to see Kat looked refreshed.
“Thank you so much, Franny, for last night. I still feel like such a fool.”
“Nonsense. Let’s get dressed, have a solid breakfast, and tackle the study.”
Kat smiled a little uncertainly. Frances reflected that she didn’t really know her all that well. Although her brother Charles and Danny had been close, Kat was several years younger than Frances, just a girl when Frances went off to school. She hadn’t realized how Kat looked up to her, so pleased to see her the next morning, giving her a hug.
Mallow came in to help Frances get dressed, and a Colcombe maid started to help Kat get into the black monstrosity that was the mourning wear.
“Miss Colcombe will not be needing that today,” said Frances. “Find something simpler, in a muted color; she and I have work to do today, and she can hardly move in that garment.” The maid looked a little shocked—full mourning was still indicated. She turned to Kat, who just shrugged. “Very good, my lady,” said the maid with a sigh.
It was just the two of them for breakfast; Mrs. Colcombe was having hers on a tray in her room. Eggs, sausage, and toast, washed down with a lot of sugared tea, put some color into Kat’s face. As they finished, Mallow, who had breakfasted in the servants’ hall, joined them in the dining room.
“Ready to help, my lady,” she said. It was likely no other lady’s maid helped her mistress with paperwork, but this was Lady Frances.
“Very good, Mallow. Kat, lead us to the study.” It was an old-fashioned room. Unlike other rooms, which had largely been changed to reflect more modern tastes, this one didn’t seem to have been updated since Danny’s late father had been a young man. The furniture was dark and heavy, including a large desk and cabinets and shelves that ran from floor to ceiling around most of the room.
Kat explained the organization of the room. “My brother was very particular and explained it to me the week before he . . .” She took a breath and then described the layout: Business files and correspondences were in the desk and filing cabinets right next to it. The solicitors took most of that away. Personal items, such as letters from friends and many other manuscripts, were opposite the desk.
“It was right here,” said Kat, showing her a blank space.
“Are you sure? There seem to be so many manuscripts on the shelf.”
“Yes. It was that spot, set a little aside. As for the rest of these—” She laughed lightly. “In recent months, he had the idea of getting involved in theater, perhaps producing plays. He had friends who were writers and artists, and he was collecting plays to see if something amused him. Mother was horrified.”
“I’m sure she was,” said Frances. It was fine to attend plays, but theatrical work was not quite respectable. “I know Charles mentioned it to me, and he encouraged it. He was pleased to see Danny take an interest in something. Anyway, we have our work cut out for us. We’re going to search every inch of this office. Kat, look at that side. Mallow, over there. I’ll look here.” The three women began, sorting through whatever papers were still in the office.
“You sound so . . . organized,” said Kat admiringly.
“I’ve pored over manuscripts in libraries and sought out obscure books on shelves when I was at college,” she said. Kat looked even more impressed.
They worked in silence for a while, carefully reviewing each sheet of paper but not finding any sign of the missing manuscript. However, at one point, Mallow came over to Frances.
“I found something, my lady, stuck between what seems to be a pile of statements from Major Colcombe’s wine merchant.” She paused, to make sure Kat was absorbed in her own papers and not paying attention. “There were a lot of them, my lady.” Mallow came from a family that frowned on drink, but Frances was aware that Danny, like his father before him, appreciated fine wine.
Frances looked over the torn scrap of paper Mallow handed her. It was clearly not a liquor bill—perhaps it had been shoved into the untidy pile by accident. The heavy ecru paper was commonly used in law offices, Frances knew from her own dealings with solicitors. And the beautiful, masculine handwriting could only have come from a well-trained clerk: “Confirmation of transfer of £500 from the account of Daniel Colcombe to the account of D. Trega—”
It was a pity that so much had been torn away—it might’ve had the solicitors’ name and address and the rest of the payee’s name. Danny probably had meant to just read the confirmation and then throw it out after tearing it up. But one part got shuffled into his wine merchant accounts instead of the wastepaper basket.
“Good find, Mallow. If we hadn’t searched, it would’ve been disposed of with these old bills.” She stepped over to where Kat was working. “I found a mention here of someone who may have been a friend of your brother’s, D. Trega. Maybe ‘Tregallis,’ an old Cornish name.”
“Danny had a lot of friends,” she said, and then turned a little pink. “A lot of lady friends.” He certainly did, thought Frances. “There was also Captain Dennis, but his surname was Burden. And when he came back from South Africa, he had a nurse named Dorothy. Nurse Dot, we called her. But her surname was Jones, not Tregallis. And neither was Cornish.”
Frances decided to keep the paper for now. The office search yielded nothing else. Frances then marched everyone up to Charles’s bedroom, but it was very spare, and a search there showed nothing either.
“I’m so sorry to have put you to all this trouble,” said Kat.
“I didn’t expect to find anything,” said Frances. “I just wanted to be sure.” Frances had wanted to assume that Kat had simply been confused, but the manuscript was quite obviously gone.
“We are going to sit and be logical,” said Frances, and the two women followed her lead and took a chair. Mallow was used to that expression from Lady Frances, which Frances had picked up from a philosophy professor at college.
“We can conclude the manuscript did not disappear while Daniel was still alive, or he would’ve said something. So it disappeared after his death. But how soon? Kat, when was the last time we are sure the manuscript was seen? I know this brings back unpleasant memories, but we need to establish that.”
Kat thought silently, and Frances was grateful she was mastering herself and not getting upset.
“I never went into the study after that day when Charles showed me the manuscript.”
“Very well. Have you spoken to any of the servants—to your butler, Bellman?”
“Bellman? No. You mean he might—?”
“Servants know all kinds of things. Could you ring for him?”
Bellman had been in Colcombe service for a long
time. Too long. He walked slowly and a little stiffly. But his back was straight and his eyes still seemed sharp. The master’s violent death had probably hit him very hard. Frances wondered if it might be time for a dignified and pleasant retirement—perhaps a cottage in the country on Colcombe land.
“Bellman, Lady Frances is helping me find Mr. Daniel’s manuscript. As I mentioned yesterday, it has gone missing.”
“And I am very sorry for that, miss.”
“Oh, no one blames you. But you can help.”
But there was no need for a crowd, concluded Frances. “Mallow, why don’t you take Miss Colcombe back to her room? Go through her clothes with her and choose several sober outfits for around the house. Then call my dressmaker and arrange for her to come here so she can measure Miss Colcombe for a new black outfit, dignified but simple and suitable to receive callers in.”
Kat looked a little surprised but said nothing.
“Yes, my lady,” said Mallow.
“I will speak with Bellman.”
Mallow and Kat left, and then Frances caused another shock by asking the elderly man to sit. Servants did not sit in the presence of their employers or their employers’ guests.
“But, Bellman, as you see, I am rather short, and it is difficult to talk up to you,” she said with what she hoped was a welcoming smile. Bellman rewarded her with a ghost of a smile too and then perched on a chair, trying not to make himself too comfortable.
There was nothing wrong with the man’s memory. After the police were done, he had taken a look around the room and had particularly noted the manuscript. He was sure, because Major Daniel had made it clear that the maids were not to touch anything on the “personal” shelves, not even to dust. Major Daniel said he didn’t want those papers disturbed, and at the time, Bellman had made a particular note of the manuscript.
“And my eye went to it, my lady, I am sure of that. Usually, Major Daniel only had a few letters there. But that large manuscript could not be missed.”
“When was the last time you saw it?”