Summerset Abbey

by Brown, T. J.

  “Father loved that color.”

  Prudence smiled back and deftly pulled out the pins in Victoria’s shining golden hair and brushed it. Loosened, it reached her waist. After brushing it out, she parted it down the middle and then coiled both sides, until they twisted up by themselves. Pinning them securely, she added a double row of blue beads to form a kind of loose headband and then pinned a dark blue feather hairpiece on one side. The little ivory seagulls at her ears had been her mother’s.

  Victoria tilted her head to one side, a sweet, birdlike movement that never failed to make Prudence smile. “I look quite pretty, Pru. Thank you.”

  A slight tap on the door alerted her that it was time to send Victoria down.

  Rowena poked her head around the corner of the door. “Are you ready?”

  Victoria turned around and Ro’s eyes softened. “You look lovely, Vic.”

  Victoria smiled tremulously and then Prudence watched as it faded. The three girls were motionless, feeling their separation as they never had before, Victoria and Rowena dressed in their finery, going down to dinner with friends and family, while Prudence, shabby in her uniform, was heading down to the servants’ hall. It was Prudence who broke the silence. “Go on with you both. You don’t want to keep Aunt Charlotte waiting.”

  Victoria squeezed her hand as she walked past, but Rowena avoided Prudence’s eyes as she waited for her sister.

  Prudence looked around the room after the girls had gone, feeling more alone than she had ever felt. Loath to stay by herself, she quickly straightened up Victoria’s room and headed down the hall to the servants’ staircase. She paused outside Rowena’s room and then shrugged. Rowena could jolly well clean up after herself. She knew it wasn’t fair, but part of her couldn’t help but feel that Ro was responsible for this whole mess.

  She tried to open the door to the servants’ stairs only to find it stuck. She tried again, but it wouldn’t budge. Could someone have locked it? Why? Frowning, she looked down the big sweeping staircase. The servants were only supposed to use the main staircase if they were cleaning it, but Prudence couldn’t see any way out of it. Not if she wanted to eat, and she did. Well, the family would all be in the sitting room or the dining room anyway and Mr. Cairns and Mrs. Harper would be busy. Looking around, she hurried down the staircase, her hand trailing along the satiny smoothness of the handrail.

  “Oh, excuse me.”

  Startled, she stumbled on the bottom step. Firm hands shot out to steady her.

  Lord Billingsly smiled and her heart ricocheted around her chest. His hands, one lightly resting against her shoulder and the other at her elbow, sent a shot of fluid warmth through her entire body.

  “It’s Prudence, isn’t it? Are you coming in to dinner? May I escort you?”

  His dark eyes were so compelling that it took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head.

  She leapt away from him as if she’d been burned, anger and humiliation heating her cheeks. “Are you making fun, Lord Billingsly? Because I am not amused.”

  He jerked back as if she’d hit him. “Pardon?”

  Hot, angry tears burned at her eyes. “Does it look as if I’m ready to go in to dinner?”

  His eyes widened as he took in her clothing at a glance. Her hands clenched by her sides. Good. He understood now. She whirled away and stalked to the servants’ door behind the staircase, which mercifully wasn’t stuck. Miserably, she noticed he didn’t call for her to wait this time, wanting to know who she was.

  He knew who she was now.

  Susie was scurrying around the kitchen when Prudence arrived downstairs. The kitchen staff, the footmen, and the butler would eat their meals after the family had been fed. The housemaids, the valets, and the lady’s maids got their dinner as the family ate. This order of dining ensured that there would always be someone to answer a call should a bell on the bell board ring, and it was practical: not all of the house staff could fit at the table at once anyway.

  Susie waggled her fingers as Prudence walked over to the large kettle filled with cock-a-leekie soup for the staff. Upstairs, the family was having a nine-course meal starting with a thin vegetable consommé with a splash of cream added into the bowl as it was being served, oyster patties, roast goose, kidney pie, braised fennel and celery served with game chips, cherry tart, raspberry ice, and fruit and cheese.

  She filled herself a bowl of the soup and watched as Cook took the roast goose, golden from bacon drippings, out of the oven. She placed it on a silver platter and added a few roast potato florets as a garnish. The goose was still sizzling as Cook hurried it past Prudence to the dumbwaiter, leaving the rich, crackling scent of meat in its wake.

  She turned away and cut herself a piece of bread from the common loaf. Balancing it on top of her stew, she made her way to the servants’ hall. When she got there, they all stopped eating and looked at her. Usually, she bolted her food in the kitchen or took it to a quiet corner, but she was tired of being alone. Hesitating, she took a free chair next to Hortense and gave everyone a tentative smile.

  “Well, guess who finally decided to join us for dinner?” one of the housemaids said with a snort.

  “Look at the likes of her, mixing with the likes of us,” another one sniggered.

  Prudence looked down at her bowl, her throat tightening. Maybe this had been a mistake.

  “That’s enough, girls,” Mrs. Harper said as Prudence sat down with her food. “I’ll not have dissension among us.” She cast Prudence a pursed-lips look, making it clear that she considered the trouble Prudence’s fault even though she hadn’t said a word. “I trust you read the rules that forbade you from using the staircase and this evening was an aberration, correct?”

  Prudence swallowed. She wanted to tell the housekeeper that the servants’ door wouldn’t open, but the bold stares of the housemaids stirred up suspicions in her mind. She bit her lip and looked down. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Harper nodded and moved on.

  “You’re nothing but a flock of chatty birds,” Hortense scolded the maids. She turned to Prudence. “Pay them no mind, my dear girl. They’re just jealous of your fine position.”

  Prudence stared at the Frenchwoman, laughter bubbling up inside. Her fine position? Then the laughter died. Well, compared to scrubbing pots and pans all day long as Susie did, taking care of someone’s lovely clothes, drawing her baths, and doing her hair must seem like a very fine position indeed. Instead of laughing, she gave Hortense a hesitant smile.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the two maids who had spoken to her rolling their eyes. Prudence wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there. But she couldn’t do that. They obviously thought her a snob already.

  She addressed Hortense. “How long have you been Lady Summerset’s lady’s maid?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “About seven years. Before that I was the Marquise du Henault’s lady’s maid until her death.”

  Another roll of the eyes from the housemaids. Prudence hid a smile. Hortense’s description was right, they did resemble nothing more than flighty magpies in their black-and-white uniforms.

  Hortense took off her reading glasses and put down her newspaper. “And what did you do before you became the lady’s maid for the Honorable Rowena and Victoria?”

  Conversation at the table had ceased and though no one looked directly at her, Prudence knew they were all waiting for her answer. Instinctively, she knew better than to reveal her exact circumstances, though part of her desperately wanted to tell them that she wasn’t like them, she wasn’t in service at all. “I’ve always lived with them,” she said in a small voice. “My mother was their governess.”

  Hortense’s eyebrows almost shot off her forehead. “Indeed.”

  Prudence could tell that everyone wanted more, but she concentrated on her stew. Eventually, the talk went on to other things and Prudence finished her meal and washed her dishes so
Susie wouldn’t have to. Susie, still busy with the dinner dishes, gave her a grateful smile.

  “Don’t go yet. Why don’t you sit with us a while? It will be hours before your girls need you. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

  Prudence hesitated for a moment, then relented. The only way to combat her own loneliness was by getting to know other people, right? She settled herself next to Hortense and Susie brought her another cup of tea.

  As soon as she sat, two of the maids exchanged glances and excused themselves. Prudence watched them go with a frown, but soon Hortense captured her attention again.

  “Let me tell you about my first assignment and see if you don’t feel better, oui?” Hortense took one of Prudence’s hands as she spoke, a friendly gesture no doubt, but as the older woman told her story, Prudence began to feel more and more like Hortense’s hand were a manacle holding her down. She listened as Hortense told her about her former employer back in France, who thought so little of the help that she never even bothered to learn Hortense’s name.

  As miserable as Prudence was, she realized she could have it worse. When Prudence rose to leave, Hortense stood as well.

  “You’re not going to bed already, are you?” Hortense asked sharply.

  Prudence shook her head. “No. I have to go straighten up Rowena’s room first.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Why?”

  “Oh, no reason.” Hortense waved her hand. “I just thought it was rather early, that’s all. But if you have work to do . . .”

  Prudence was lost in thought as she tidied Rowena’s room. Why did it please her so much that the other servants believed she was better than them? In spite of everything Sir Philip had taught them about the equity of all men and women, she still didn’t want to be thought of as a mere servant. But in reality, they were more her sort of people than Rowena and Victoria were. Or Lord Billingsly. Her mother had begun as a maid. She had no idea what her father had done for work, as her mother never spoke of him, but she knew she had family who lived in the village. No doubt many of them had worked for the Buxtons or one of the other titled families in the area.

  Was there really a fundamental difference between those of the lower class and those of the upper class, aside from the circumstances of one’s birth, something over which a person has no control? Why did those of the lower classes put up with being made to feel as if they were second-class humans? Prudence could see the need for lower-tier jobs—no one was going to like cleaning the privies, after all. She rubbed her head. No wonder things changed slowly. There were no easy solutions.

  When Rowena didn’t appear for her bath, Prudence walked down the hall to Victoria’s room. What room would she have if she were a real guest? She hadn’t been able to see much of the house beyond the servants’ quarters, the girls’ rooms, and the Great Hall. She had hardly even been outside since she arrived. Instead, she spent her afternoons off reading one of the books Vic had smuggled her from the library.

  More tired than she had ever been, she climbed the never-ending stairs to her room. Rowena and Victoria could jolly well put themselves to bed tonight. She wasn’t really a maid, no matter what it currently looked like. The encounter with Lord Billingsly and her experience with the staff in the servants’ hall had left her feeling fragile, as if one more incident could break her into a million pieces.

  The gas lamps in the long stretch of petticoat hall were spaced far apart and on the lowest setting. “No reason for servants to be able to see,” she muttered. She left the door open, so she would have enough light to get her own small gas lamp burning. After locking the door, she peeled off her clothes, not even bothering to hang them up. Her teeth began to chatter as she pulled on a fine lawn nightgown. Even though her skin gloried in the softness of the material, she almost wished for wool bloomers to fend off the chill. Her room was more like an icebox than a bedroom.

  Hurrying now, she raced across the room and leapt into bed, but as she shoved her feet down, they were stopped by something about halfway down. Uncomprehending, she pushed her feet down harder and then realized what had happened. Someone had given her an apple pie bed, snuck into her bedroom to pull a prank on her. Sobs erupted from her mouth before she could stop them and she clapped her hands over her face. She wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten to her. For a few minutes she sat on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, trying to get control of herself. She had no friends here, she thought. Except for Susie, she was completely alone, and she was better off remembering that.

  When your bed is short-sheeted, you have no choice but to get up and remake it all over again. Wearily, she climbed out of her bed. Her feet ached from cold and her muscles throbbed with exhaustion, but she managed to get it done.

  Finally under the coverlet, with her tears drying on her cheeks, Prudence made a decision. Her next day off was tomorrow. She would take advantage by going into town and trying to find some of her family. Anything was better than being trapped here in isolation, suspended between the upstairs and downstairs worlds of Summerset, and truly belonging to neither.

  * * *

  The next morning, Prudence took out her new rust-colored serge walking suit and brushed it out, being especially careful of the black braid trim and cloth buttons. Slipping on the skirt, which came to just above her ankles, she tucked in a creamy white blouse and pulled on the matching jacket. She loved how the ruffles on the sleeves of her blouse peeked out from under the cuffs of the coat. Then she did her hair the best she could in the cracked mirror and topped it with an oversized black velvet beret. Her feet were clad with a pair of two-toned black and brown leather walking boots that laced up the front. In no manner could she be mistaken for a maid today.

  She swept into the servants’ quarters and poured herself a cup of tea, ignoring the stares she was getting.

  Hortense’s eyes widened. “Belle fille” was all she said.

  Prudence knew that her actions wouldn’t make her any friends among the servants, but she didn’t care. She now saw that they judged her every bit as much as Lord Summerset did.

  She saw Susie peer around the corner, her eyes wide. Prudence’s stomach was bouncing so much, she decided against porridge and opted for just tea.

  “Today is your half day, oui? Do you have any plans?” Hortense wanted to know.

  “I thought I would go into town,” Prudence answered.

  “Why on earth would you want to do that?” Hortense sniffed. “It’s not even a town. More like a village.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve been there?” one of the footmen asked. “It’s grown a lot in the last couple of years. Industry is coming in a big way.” He smiled at Prudence, showing a wide grin and strong white teeth. “My name is Andrew, by the way. Andrew Wilkes.”

  She smiled back, recognizing him as the kind-faced young man from her first day at Summerset. She’d seen him about since of course, but as they rarely ate at the same time, she hadn’t met him formally yet. She guessed this was as formal as the servants got. “Prudence Tate,” she said, and then felt stupid. Everyone already knew who she was.

  One of the maids snorted and snatched her cup and bowl from the table. “I don’t have time for this. Some of us have work to do.”

  Andrew kept smiling. “Don’t mind her. She’s just jealous. It’s evident to everyone here that you’re a real lady.”

  “That will be all, Andrew. I’m sure you have work to attend to, as well,” Mr. Cairns said from the doorway.

  “But—” Andrew started to say.

  “Now,” Mr. Cairns interrupted.

  Andrew gave her a cheeky wink and, gathering up his breakfast dishes, also left the table.

  Mr. Cairns gave her a withering look and Prudence turned away, her cheeks heating.

  “You had better be off before Mrs. Harper gets a look at you, my young friend. Or there will be all kinds of hell to pay,” Hortense said.

  “But the clothes are my own and it’s my day off. Surel
y she can’t object to my wearing my own clothes on my day off, can she?”

  “Oh, she’ll find a way. Now off. Enjoy your day, even though I don’t know how you’re going to find any amusement in a muddy hamlet like Summerset.”

  Prudence took her cup back to the utility room to wash it.

  “I’ll get it,” Susie said gruffly, not looking at Prudence. “You’ll spot your dress if you do it.”

  “Thank you, Susie. I’ll get you a surprise while I’m in town.”

  Prudence thought she saw a half smile on Susie’s face, but she couldn’t be sure. Contrariness had made her avoid Victoria and Rowena this morning, even to ask whether they would like anything from town or needed anything before she left. Both of them had disappeared several times since they had come to Summerset and didn’t tell her where they went.

  It was hard to keep up with your friends if spending time together was frowned upon. Even though there were occasions when they would spend time reading together in their bedrooms in front of the fire, Ro and Vic couldn’t be expected to spend all their time in their rooms. They weren’t the prisoners.

  She was.

  Shaking off her thoughts, Prudence made sure to leave by the servants’ door and avoided the front of the house. The last thing she needed was to be rebuked for being uppish, and after her behavior this morning, she knew she would be a target. Shame heated her cheeks. What had ever possessed her to go to breakfast dressed up in an outfit that would cost any one of them more than a year’s wages?

  But still, now that she was finally outside the house, she felt as if she could breathe. The clouds hung low and gray in the sky but didn’t seem threatening. Her sturdy walking boots were comfortable. The trees along the drive had been emptied of all their autumn leaves and now stood like stark and naked sentries above her.

  When she reached the end of the drive, she paused, feeling foolish. Why hadn’t she thought to get directions to town? She heard the rattle of a motorcar behind her and stepped to the side as it slowed.