As for my living quarters, they are modest though not without a certain charm. I have two rooms to myself; a suitably sized bedroom, containing a single bed and writing desk, and a small bathroom in which I can tend to my natural needs without fear of anybody interrupting me or shouting at me to hurry up. Though the writing desk is of high quality and has clearly been maintained throughout its many years, it lacked any ink or writing utensils upon my arrival. It was not until I mentioned this to the head butler that I was provided with a quill and a jar of ink, both of which were delivered to my room by the oldest of the maids. She is not a talkative woman and did not even acknowledge me when I enquired as to where I could find some paper or any other kind of material on which I could write. Thankfully, I had brought this diary with me to the manor, hurriedly cramming it into my bag as I left my home early this morning. I feel it is time I should be going, dear diary, as the moon has long since fallen and the sound of owls and other creatures of the night are drifting through my open window. I am not particularly tired, even though I have been travelling all day. Despite this, the voice of reason in my head is commanding me to climb into bed and shut my eyes as I must be awake tomorrow morning at a half hour past five in order to cleanse the kitchen before breakfast. I have never been awake so early in all my life! Even in my days of schooling I did not rise from my slumber before seven in the morning. I do not know how I shall cope with such an early hour, though the head butler (an extremely helpful man) ensured me that it is really no more difficult than getting out of bed at any other time of the day. Oh how I hope he is right! With the exception of the half past five wake up call, I am certainly looking forward to my first day of employment here at Brenwich Manor. Who knows what it could hold? Who knows what the coming weeks, months and years could hold? I quite like the idea of spending my entire life here, working as a maid and continuing to progress up the house ladder until I am the head maid. Perhaps I could even become the head of all staff! Wouldn't that be something! For now, I must bid you farewell and extinguish my lamp. With a bit of luck, I shall also be able to extinguish the butterflies in my stomach, as I fear they may keep me awake all night.
Until tomorrow,
Jane.
January Seventh, 1816.
Diary,
As I am sure you can see, a whole day has come and gone since I last spoke to you; this is because yesterday was far more busy than I ever could have imagined! I was awoken five minutes before a half past five by the loud knocking of the oldest maid, who proceeded to loudly berate me when I answered the door. She gave out to me for not being up and ready before the wake up call, which I did not fully understand. Later, I was comforted by the other maid, Clarence, who is a kind woman of around forty. She explained to me that the oldest maid, whose name I learned to be Ms. Dupoint, is a perfectionist and driven by a constant need to succeed. According to Clarence, Ms. Dupoint holds no disdain for me and was angered only to find her plans for the day were pushed back by five minutes or so. Still, the old woman is a tough lady to work under. She yells and she shouts and on one occasion she even shoved me to get me to walk faster. I must say, Diary, I am not very fond of her. Thankfully, I don't see her very often throughout the day and am usually left to work alone or in the company of Clarence. Other than those few incidences with Ms. Dupoint, everything else I have experienced thus far in Brenwich Manor has been amazing. The bed, for what little time I spend in it, is wonderfully comfortable and my bedroom itself is nice and warm as it is situated just one floor above the kitchen. As for food, yesterday's lunch was provided by the manor's cook and was so delicious that I fear words will not do it justice. The platter of sandwiches which prepared for the maids and butlers was simply mouth watering; so much so that simply writing this is making my stomach rumble and yearn for just one more bite of the succulent slices of pork which rested between those two slices of freshly baked bread. The food was accompanied by mug after mug of freshly brewed tea, which was the perfect temperature and contained just the right amount of milk and sugar. I do not know how the cook managed to do it, but he made sure that no unsightly tealeaves were left lingering at the bottom of the empty cup; he is truly a great talent. However, Clarence advised me no to get too used to such marvellous lunches as the cook is generally an extremely busy man, preparing meals for the Duke and Duchess three times a day as well as putting together any snacks which the royal couple may desire. He only provides food for the staff of the manor when he has enough time, which sadly is not very often.
While I have met the majority of people who make their home in the manor, I still have yet to set eyes on the Duchess. From the portraits which adorn the manor walls, she appears to be a very beautiful women and much of the staff I have spoken to will testify to this. The Duke, of course, seems to blush whenever he talks of his wife. His face goes red and he begins to laugh until he is almost giggling like a schoolboy. He is so in love with her! He has also been sure to visit my room a number of times in order to see how I am settling in at his home. He is truly a caring individual. Yesterday, when I retreated to my room for a quick nap during my lunch hour, the Duke came knocking at my door an engaged me in conversation for almost the entirety of my break. I missed out on my much-needed sleep, but it did not bother me a great deal for the Duke is such a delightful man to talk to. He seems to know everything about any topic of conversation and in that one conversation alone covered literature, sporting events and religion. He told me that he has a great interest in the new movements which are taking place in today's society and that he is a hearty supporter of all things concerning science and the development of the human race. He even went as far as to reveal to me that he does not believe in God. I have never met anybody who does not believe in God and the good word of Jesus Christ! I believe that in the past, I would have shunned such a man, but the Duke explained his beliefs with such elegance and intelligence that I could not help but be smitten. He explained to me that the word for a person who does not believe in a god of any kind is "atheist" and that he has been an atheist since the death of his father.
The Duke returned to my room later that night to give me a book about science, which he told me he believed I would derive much enjoyment from. I tried to read the first chapter but gave up due to the vast amount of long and unfamiliar words. Even the title of the book was too full of letters for me to recall it accurately. I do intend to return to the book in the coming days, however, as I do not want to let the Duke down. He seems to view me as an equal rather than a maid and has told me himself that he enjoys our conversations. I enjoy our conversations also. I enjoy the company of the Duke, even though it comes at often inconvenient times. He has been a friend to me thus far and has certainly made it easier for me to settle into my new life here in Brenwich Manor. I do hope that our friendship continues after I have found my footing here.
It is time for me to say goodbye diary. I rose early this morning in order to write this entry as I likely will not have time tonight and it is now approaching a half past five. Soon Ms. Dupoint will be rapping at my door again; but this time, I'll be ready!
That is all for now, Diary.
Jane.
February Second, 1816
Diary,
I fear I have been neglectful towards you, my dearest diary. However, I can assure that my absence has not been without good reason. The past month has been, without a doubt, the busiest month of my young life. These four weeks have passed like a haze of washing and scrubbing and dusting and cleaning, interrupted only by an occasional sip of tea or a few hours sleep. The staff here are allowed two breaks a day; one hour break in the middle of the day followed by one half hour break in the evening time. It is our duty to prepare our own meals should we grow hungry and the cook has not had a single spare moment to aid us in the task since that first day I was on the job. This is my first day off since my arrival in Brenwich Manor and I intend to cherish it, as it is still uncertain when my next free day will come. It is currently midday and I have
only risen from my bed. My, how much sleep I had to catch up on! I feel as though I could sleep for another twelve hours, which I may very well do!
Though my stay here has consisted mostly of cleaning and other uninteresting tasks and activities, there have been a number of instances over the past four weeks that stand out in my mind. The most memorable of which is my first encounter with the Duchess, which occurred exactly one week after my arrival at the manor. For seven days, I had waited to meet the lady of the house and I was growing increasingly anxious to behold her in all of her much talked about beauty. On many occasions, I could hear her laughing with the Duke or talking to other members of the staff; sometimes the Duchess could ever be heard singing softly to herself as she strolled through the manor. She really has a wonderful voice. I may be digressing slightly, I am sure you will forgive me.
As I was saying, on my seventh day at Brenwich Manor, I was carrying a number of towels (I do not remember how many towels, but it was a large pile), from the washroom. They were to be placed throughout the manor in the kitchen, chambers and all bathrooms. This is a job I do most days and it frequently takes beyond thirty minutes to complete. On this day, having performed the chore numerous times already, I grew bored and my mind began to wander as I walked from bathroom to bathroom, ridding myself of the towels. It was when I reached the final bathroom on the fourth floor of the manor that I decided to take a moment to enjoy myself and indulge in some childish but harmless fun. Believing myself to be alone, I took one of the larger towels from the stack and placed it on my back. For several seconds, I paraded around the room as if I were a gentleman rider on a risk filled journey to deliver a secret message to the king of some far away land. When I turned around, still wearing my cape and giggling to myself, I was startled to find the Duchess standing in the doorway.
"Oh my goodness" I gasped as I removed the cape and clamoured to fold it up once again, "I am so terribly embarrassed." The Duchess, much to her credit and my surprise, did not yell or scream or even insult me. Instead, she laughed loudly and gave me a hug!
"It's so nice to see somebody with a bit of life around here" she told me as her royal arms were wrapped around my neck. Diary, how I remember the smell of her perfume drifting slowly into my nostrils! It was divine! We spoke for a few minutes; or, more accurately, she spoke at me. She told me of her time before she met the Duke and about how much her life had changed since the night he picked her out of the crowd at a ball, taking her on a six-month courtship which ended in a proposal atop a hill at sunset. How perfect it sounds! She speaks in the same manner as him. The same tone, the same pace, she even discusses much of the same topics as the Duke. However, she does not sound quite as intelligent as her husband and her insights do not have nearly as much depth. Still, she is far more learned than I shall ever be. Since that day, I have had numerous encounters with the Duchess as I walk through the manor, fulfilling my duties as a maid. She is always kind and courteous and, on occasion, she even thanks me for my services.
The Duke still comes by my chamber most nights. He loves to discuss my childhood and teenage years. He has told me on more than one occasion that he finds me to be an inspiration due to my ability to experience such hardship in my youth and to still be driven to succeed. I do not believe I experienced any great hardship as a child; I suppose hardship to me has an entirely different meaning than it does to a person who has spent his whole life in such a luxurious state of affairs. He also likes to listen to me talk about my dreams and my hopes for the future, which I am more than happy to do. This afternoon, he came to find me as I worked to tell me he would pay a visit to my room at midnight tonight. He seemed very excited about it, maybe even a little nervous. I have no idea why the Duke would be nervous to talk to a maid, especially after all of our conversations in the past; perhaps he was simply worried about something else and allowed it to pour into other aspects oh his day. The poor Duke. He should not have to worry about anything. He is a member of the royal family and yet he still finds himself stressed out practically everyday. Of course, a visit from the Duke is something to become excited about, regardless of how often I find him knocking at my door. For that reason, dear Diary, I must say goodnight to you and return you to your home in the dusty, old drawer of the dusty, old writing desk.
Farewell, the Duke is knocking.
Jane.
February Third, 1816.
Diary,
I am in shock! My hand is trembling still as I write this and I am unsure if I will even be able to put these words on paper. It is late in the night and early in the morning, mere hours since the Duke paid a visit to my chamber here on the second floor of the manor. I still am struggling to comprehend the actions of the man. He came knocking at my door, as he has always done in the past, and we engaged in conversation about something; I am still in such a state of shock that I cannot even recall what we spoke about. About five minutes into the conversation, the Duke began to grow a little uneasy and nervous, much as he had been earlier on in the day. Concerned for his well being, I asked him what the matter was. That's when he did it. The Duke, with his hands still trembling, took my face in his hands and pressed his lips against mine. He gave me a kiss! Appalled, I pushed him away and he instantly began to excuse his actions and beg for my forgiveness. As I listened to him beg and apologise, I did something which I truly wish I could undo; I took his face in my hands and kissed him back. I cannot deny, I experienced a great thrill in kissing the Duke and there was an undeniable feeling of passion as he stumbled backwards to the wall, pulling me closer to him without once breaking the seal of our lips. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, sense and logic returned to us both at the same time and we simultaneously pulled away. There was a moment of silence as we both attempted to make sense of what had just occurred. The Duke straightened his collar and I my hair and we parted without saying so much as one word to each other. I closed the door behind him as he left and crawled into bed in a futile attempt to get to sleep, perhaps I believed that the whole thing had been but a dream. I do not know what will happen next, nor what I am expected to do. I am fearful. I am worried. I feel this is not the end of the situation, though I hope and I pray that it is.
I will leave you now diary as it is time I try once again to fall asleep. I shall report back when and if there is another situation such as this.
Jane.
February Fourth, 1816.
Diary,
It has happened once again! The Duke came to my chamber this evening, knocking a great deal louder than he usually knocks. I had managed to avoid him all day and so I was reluctant to open the door to him. However, I conceded when he began to talk to me through the heavy wooden door that separated us. He called my name and insisted that he merely wanted to apologise for what he had done last night. His voice seemed so full of sorrow that I could not help but feel his pain. I gently opened the door, still not fully over what had happened between us, only for him to instantly kiss me again. It happened so fast that I was frozen in confusion when he pulled away. He apologised immediately and stammered something along the lines of "I'm sorry Jane, I can't help it." I wiped his spit from my lip and voiced my displeasure. I was not angry, but I was more than a little frustrated. He continued to stammer and apologise for being so impulsive as I stood in silence, listening to him though I was not interested in what he had to say. At lease, I believed I was not interested in what he had to say. However, the Duke quickly caught my attention when he told me "Jane, you have driven me mad. You have robbed me of my senses." I dropped my hands from my hips and gave him a look that let him know I wanted him to continue.
"Jane" he began again, "over the past month, the depth and beauty of your character has been revealed to me and I have learned that you are like no other woman I have ever met."
"What about your wife?" I asked him. My voice was cold and I did my best to remain emotionless. Of course, if the Duke could have seen inside me, he would have known that I was a mass of nerves an
d excitement and feelings, which cannot be understood.
"I like my wife, Jane. She is a fine woman in both looks and spirit, but there is something about you that makes me feel emotions I have never felt. Just knowing you are in the manor makes me happy. I stop and I sing sometimes just because I know you're close by."
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 87