Evie's Ghost

by Helen Peters

  I wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it but I knew that would be useless. Worse than useless. Any protest might get me thrown out right now, important guest or no important guest. And I had to keep my job, at least until Sophia and Robbie had escaped.

  “Yes, Mrs Hardwick,” I said meekly. “I’m very sorry, Mrs Hardwick.”

  She shoved me into the kitchen, where Polly was filling a hot water can.

  “There’s the best guest bedroom and dressing room to prepare, so you’re going to have to work faster than you’ve ever worked in your life, young lady. They both want fires to take the chill off them, as well as linen and a thorough polish. You two will work together, and, Polly, don’t let her out of your sight, or it’ll be the high road for you too. She’s not to be trusted for a second, you understand?”

  “Yes, missus,” said Polly.

  “Er, missus, I need to empty this,” I said, indicating the chamber pot.

  Mrs Hardwick gave an incredulous snort. “You, madam, are not setting foot out of the house again tonight. See that she doesn’t, Polly, or you know what will happen. Leave the chamber pot here. Nell will do it.”

  “Yes, missus,” I said, relieved at not having to go anywhere near Jacob again.

  As we scurried up to the bedrooms with our cleaning boxes, Polly whispered, “What have you done to put her in such a temper?”

  The recollection of it made me feel sick again. “Jacob kissed me,” I said, “and Mrs Hardwick saw.”

  Polly gave a little scream of delighted horror. “Oh, my, I can’t believe you’re still here. You sly little madam.” She looked at me curiously. “Did you like it?”

  “No! It was disgusting. He just grabbed me. And he stinks.”

  “You’re lucky they need you today,” she said, “or you’d have been out on your ear. Again.”

  “And what about him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would he be out on his ear too?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why? He forced me. How come I’m the one in trouble and he gets away with it?”

  Polly shrugged. “Because he’s a man. Different rules.”

  “But that’s so unfair. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

  “I suppose so. I’ve never really thought about it. It’s just how things are.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t be.”

  “Don’t worry about Jacob. He’ll get his comeuppance one day.” She winked at me. “At least, he will if I have anything to do with it. You should have emptied that chamber pot over his head.”

  “I should have emptied it over his head. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  We had reached the guest bedroom, where Polly began a series of instructions. I tried to concentrate but I had greater worries on my mind.

  If Jacob really had overheard my conversation with Robbie, and if he really was planning to tell Sir Henry, then Robbie and Sophia were in terrible danger. They would have to leave immediately if they were going to have any chance of getting away safely.

  But Sophia was with her aunt in the White Parlour, no doubt being instructed in exactly how to accept Mr Ellerdale’s proposal. And now that Polly had been charged with keeping me indoors, I couldn’t take a message to Robbie without risking her job as well as my own.

  I wrestled with the problem as I wrestled with the bed linen but I couldn’t think of any way to warn them. And if I couldn’t warn them in time, then Jacob might tell Sir Henry what Sophia was planning, and she really would be locked up for the rest of her life. And I would be stuck in the past forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jacob Speaks

  For the next three hours I was kept constantly busy, making fires, fetching linen, carrying water and cleaning rooms, and I was never out of Polly’s sight for a second. All that time, I racked my brains for a way to give a message to Sophia in secret. But she was never alone either. Once her aunt had finished with her, she was closeted in her dressing room with Madame Perrault, preparing for her engagement dinner.

  Could I secretly slip her a note at the dinner table?

  When Mrs Hardwick came to inspect the guest dressing room, I decided to give it a try.

  “Would it help you, missus,” I asked in what I hoped was a charming voice, “if I waited at table tonight? I think it would be good for me to get the experience.”

  Polly roared with laughter. The housekeeper gave me a withering look and left the room.

  “Maidservants don’t wait at table, Evie,” said Polly when she had stopped laughing. “Not in houses like these. The family wouldn’t want people to think they was poor.”

  “Why would people think they were poor?”

  “We’re cheap, aren’t we? Lower wages, no livery and no tax to pay. If you can afford menservants, it shows you’ve got money to spare.”

  “So the men get higher wages?”

  “Of course they do.”

  “What, because they work harder?” I said sarcastically.

  Polly gave a scornful laugh. “Do they heck! But what do you expect when you employ a person just because they’re tall and look good in livery?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “George got the job because he was six foot tall, the same height as the one what left. All the footmen in this house have to be six foot tall, so they fit the livery.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Would I lie to you? So no, you won’t get to wait at table, unless you can turn yourself into a six-foot man.”

  So that was it. There was nothing to do but hope against hope that either Jacob was bluffing or that, if he did know something, he wouldn’t take his knowledge to Sir Henry.

  After all, if it was so hard for me, working in the house, to get a message to Sophia, how would a stable boy get to speak to the head of the household? Would he even dare try? Surely not. And if he did, Sir Henry probably wouldn’t believe him. Imagine the stable boy telling Sir Henry Fane that his daughter was about to elope with the gardener! He’d probably be flogged for daring to suggest it.

  No, Jacob’s threat was just a trick to frighten me and then take advantage of my fear and confusion. I shuddered and wiped my mouth at the memory.

  We had just sat down for supper when a man’s raised voice stopped every conversation at the table. It seemed to be coming from the ground-floor entrance hall, right above us.

  “What the devil do you mean by this?”

  My heart thudded in my chest. It was Sir Henry.

  The volume dropped to mumblings and murmurings. Sir Henry was talking to another man. Was it Jacob? Surely he wouldn’t have gone to the front door. If there was one thing I knew by now about being a servant, it was that you never, ever used the front door.

  The men stopped talking. The front door slammed. My heart was thumping. What should I do? What could I do?

  George looked intrigued. “Who’d be at the door at this time of night?”

  He got up and walked out. I itched to follow him but Mrs Hardwick was sitting at the head of the table, giving us all the evil eye.

  After a couple of minutes, George returned.

  “Well?” asked Betty as he sat down.

  George shook his head and took a big bite of his bread. “Very odd,” he said.

  “What’s odd?”

  George took a swig of his beer.

  “You saw nothing, did you?” said Mary.

  “As a matter of fact, I did see something.”

  “Well, tell us then. I don’t believe you saw anything at all.”

  “If you want to know, I saw the master himself, running across the stable yard towards the orchard.”

  “Evie, where do you think you’re going?” shouted Mrs Hardwick. “Come back!”

  But I was already out of the door. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I had to stop Sir Henry discovering Robbie and Sophia.

  In the stable yard, Jacob stepped out of the shadows, holding the overnight bag that Sophia had discarded in
the wood the previous evening. “Look what I found,” he said. “The master was very interested indeed in what I had to show him.”

  I swore at him as I raced past.

  The orchard door stood wide open. I darted through. It was shadowy in the moonlight and I banged my head against a branch. I clutched it, moaning, and kept going, ducking through the trees. Illuminated in the moonlight at the far end, I saw two figures.

  Sophia and Robbie.

  Where was Sir Henry? Had he seen them yet? Was he watching them secretly?

  “Sir Henry!” I called. “Come back! The house is on fire!”

  If he was there, he didn’t reveal himself. But Robbie and Sophia froze. Then they bolted, hand in hand, towards the gate that led to the Great Meadow.

  A roar of fury filled the orchard. Sir Henry appeared from the shadows, crashing through the trees towards them. I raced towards him, thinking maybe I could trip him up. But he was too fast for me. He reached Robbie and Sophia and stood between them and the gate.

  “You little hussy!” he bellowed, swiping Sophia across the face.

  She cried out, staggered back and fell against a tree trunk. As she tried to right herself, he raised his hand again.

  “Don’t hit her!” Robbie shouted, grabbing his arm. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, you bullying, evil—”

  Sir Henry wheeled round, wrenched his arm free and punched Robbie in the jaw. Robbie reeled back.

  “No!” screamed Sophia, but Sir Henry punched Robbie again and he stumbled and fell. Sir Henry swung his leg back to kick him.

  “Leave him alone!” cried Sophia, running at her father like a battering ram. Unbalanced with his right foot in the air, he fell heavily on his left side, hitting his head against a tree root.

  “Sit on him!” I shouted, plonking myself down on his stomach. He roared in fury and raised his hand to slap me, but Sophia hurled herself on to his chest. His breath stank of alcohol.

  “Evie?” Sophia said, staring in wonder.

  “Pin his arms down!”

  We grabbed an arm each, but Sir Henry was too strong for us. He wrenched his arms away and gave Sophia a terrific slap on the other side of her face. “You filthy, disgusting—”

  Robbie scrambled to his feet, pulled Sophia up and stepped in front of her. “How dare you hit your daughter, you coward? Here, hit me instead.”

  Sir Henry threw me off his stomach as though I was a rag doll. I fell back into a bush. He got to his feet and squared up to Robbie. Robbie threw a punch and Sir Henry punched back. They were going to kill each other and I had no idea what to do.

  Suddenly, from out of the shadows, appeared Mr Paxton, the butler. He stepped neatly between Robbie and Sir Henry. “Sir,” he said, “allow me to deal with this young miscreant, if you will.”

  Sir Henry actually seemed to listen to Mr Paxton. He took a step back.

  The butler turned to Robbie and pointed to the gate. “Leave the premises this instant. Never set foot on Sir Henry’s land again.”

  Sir Henry trembled with rage. “If he sets foot on my land again, I’ll shoot him myself.”

  Robbie looked at Sophia. “I cannot leave you here like this,” he said. “Come with me.”

  “Come with you?” roared Sir Henry. “Why, you scoundrel, you—” He lunged for Robbie, but Mr Paxton held him back.

  “Go,” Sophia begged Robbie. “Go, or you will make things worse.”

  Robbie looked at her in agony.

  “Bring me my pistol!” Sir Henry yelled to the butler, struggling to get out of his grasp.

  Robbie looked Sir Henry in the eye. “I am leaving, sir.” He walked out of the orchard gate and disappeared into the darkness of the Great Meadow.

  Sir Henry turned to Sophia. He looked as though he was itching to strike her again. “As for you, you lying, cheating little snake… Telling me you had seen the error of your ways, accepting Ellerdale’s proposal, when all the time you were planning to sneak out of the house and give yourself to a filthy little gardener. Fetch me my whip!” he roared at the butler.

  “Sir Henry,” said Mr Paxton, “I wonder if it might be better for Miss Fane to return to the house quietly.”

  “After what she has done? Never!”

  “I understand your anger, of course, sir, but you have a guest, and it might be prudent for Miss Fane to return to her room, for the time being.”

  “She has no room in my house,” said Sir Henry. “She can starve in the streets for all I care. I want nothing to do with her ever again.”

  Sophia was trembling, but she met her father’s eye with a defiant glare.

  “Sir Henry,” said the butler, “I would suggest that we would wish to avoid gossip and scandal in the neighbourhood. It might not be quite wise to have Miss Fane thrown into the streets. Perhaps if she were to be confined to her room…”

  Sir Henry rounded on his daughter. “To think of all I have lavished on you. And for what, you ungrateful, deceitful, sly little brat?” He spat on the ground in front of her and then he turned to Mr Paxton. “Take her to her room. Fix bolts to the door and bars to the window. From this day forward, I have no daughter.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A Promise

  Sir Henry strode away through the trees. The butler took Sophia’s arm. She made no attempt to resist. Head down, she walked silently back to the house.

  I crouched under the bush, my heart hammering.

  What an idiot I was, to imagine I could change the past. As if anybody in the world had ever been able to change the past.

  What would happen to me now?

  It was too terrifying to think about. I felt as though I was trapped in a never-ending tunnel.

  Everything was ruined. Now Sophia would be locked up for the rest of her life. And Robbie…

  Where would Robbie go?

  Suddenly I came to life. I ran out of the orchard gate and down through the Great Meadow, stumbling over the rough grass. If he was walking, I should be able to catch him up.

  “Evie?”

  I stopped, my eyes straining through the gloom.

  “Evie, it’s me. Robbie.”

  I could see him walking towards me now. “Oh, Robbie, thank goodness.”

  “What are you doing? Did he throw you out too?”

  “No, I came to find you.”

  “I was under that elm tree by the wall,” he said. “I could go no further. It took all my strength not to go back in there. I must get her out. I cannot lurk outside the walls and save my own skin while she is being tortured inside the house.”

  “She’s not being tortured,” I said, hoping I was right.

  “I will come tomorrow and fetch her,” he said. “I cannot leave her here.”

  “You can’t come back. You heard what he said. He’ll shoot you. You were lucky he didn’t kill you then. He would have done, if Mr Paxton hadn’t turned up. And how would it help Sophia if you were dead?”

  “What good am I doing her now,” he said wildly, “standing uselessly aside while she is locked up and beaten?”

  Suddenly I felt older than Robbie. He was far too much in love to think straight. I was going to have to sort this out myself.

  A new courage began to grow inside me. Mum had always gone on about how stubborn I was. Well, now, I thought, I’m going to put my stubbornness to good use for once.

  “Sir Henry is a bully,” I said to Robbie, “and you can’t let bullies win. You have to show them you’re stronger than them.”

  Robbie looked at me doubtfully.

  “Not by brute force,” I said. “He’s always going to win that way. We’re going to have to use cunning instead. I mean, I work in the house all day, don’t I? I sleep in the house. We know exactly where Sophia will be the whole time. How hard can it be to get her out?”

  “Her father will keep her under lock and key. He will keep the door guarded.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m in the house the whole time. I’ll find a way.”
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br />   Then my stomach plummeted.

  I wasn’t in the house now, was I? I had bolted in the middle of supper. I was going to be sacked, and then how would Sophia escape?

  “I need to get back,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Just tell me where you’ll be and how I can send messages to you.”

  He looked blank for a minute. Then he said, “I shall go to my mother’s friend, Elizabeth. She lives in the white cottage next to the church. I shall make sure nobody sees me arrive, and I shall stay hidden during the day.”

  “But how will I get a message to you?”

  “Betty lives in the village,” he said. “Send news by Betty. Write nothing down, mind.”

  A picture came into my head of Betty in a gossipy huddle with Mary and Alice. “Can she keep a secret?”

  “I have known her all my life. I’m sure we can trust her.”

  I opened my mouth to voice my doubts but then I closed it again. What choice did we have?

  “Leave it to me,” I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt. “I’ll get Sophia out.”

  “Thank you, Evie. Thank you so much.”

  I hitched up my skirt and ran. Outside the scullery door I paused to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. What was I going to tell Mrs Hardwick? What excuse could I possibly make? Why would anybody run outside in the middle of a meal like that?

  And then it came to me. Maybe, if I really grovelled, it might just work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  An Idea

  “Vomiting?” said Mrs Hardwick. She didn’t sound at all convinced.

  I nodded, screwing up my nose in disgust. “Really bad. It came on all of a sudden. I didn’t have time to tell you. I must have eaten too much beef at dinner. And I thought – for everybody’s sakes – that I ought to get as far away from the house as possible.”