Mellington Hall

by Meredith Resce

“Then I beg of you, on behalf of your brother, will you give me work and lodgings? I have no place to go, and it is his fault that I find myself in this predicament.”

  “Are you with child?” Simon asked outright, knowing that he would embarrass the young woman.

  “That is a disgraceful thing to ask!” she eventually answered, trying to sound as if she had some authority.

  “None the less, I don’t want to be bringing a servant into the house who is likely to be sick, and who will make an extra burden for the other staff.”

  “Your brother was at the point of death, when I found him, and it took all of a week to nurse him to a state whereby he was able to return here to the hall. There was nothing immoral that went on between us. That is all you need to know, sir!”

  Simon nodded, in a dismissive manner, and walked across to pull the bell cord. Within minutes, the butler came into the room.

  “Introduce Miss Montgomery to Mrs Mirren, and arrange that she be employed.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir,” the butler ventured respectfully. “The house is fully staffed at the moment. We have no positions vacant.”

  “Do as I ask,” Simon said evenly. “If and when my brother returns, I will leave it up to him to deal with this situation he has created.”

  Sarah was neither relieved nor happy that she had been given a position. How could she be? Given the disgrace that hung over her, it was merely a momentary reprieve from complete destitution.

  Surely Sir Alan will do something to rescue my reputation, she thought. Surely he cannot be completely devoid of decency.

  Simon could not believe how much he had enjoyed the encounter with the gamekeeper’s daughter. She believed it was Alan who had besmirched her good name. And now Simon was learning that the rest of the village believed Alan had taken advantage of an upright member of the village church. It was all working out very satisfactorily for him. Alan’s preaching at him had become more than a tedious bore, it had become a strangling interference to the sort of life Simon wanted to lead. Offering the girl a position would not lessen the rumours, in fact it was more likely to confirm them. Alan Mellington’s sordid little affair was good news for his brother’s cause, whether it was truth or not.

  t didn’t take Sarah very long to realise that her mother had neglected a large part of her education. The housekeeper, Mrs Mirren, was not impressed by her good diction or deportment, and her confident authoritative approach was, in fact, a matter of grave concern.

  “This is your room,” Mrs Mirren indicated the small room, furnished with a single bed, one small cupboard, upon which a candlestick stood, and a wash stand with jug and bowl, ready for use. “I hope you won’t think it beneath you,” she said sarcastically.

  Sarah’s own room at the farm house had been no bigger than this, and the only difference was that she had some personal belongings to decorate the space. That Mrs Mirren had made the comment made Sarah wonder. Did she think she was acting above herself because she spoke with the rounded tones and accents of a lady, or was she indicating something else with regard to Lord Mellington? Either way, she was wrong in assuming that Sarah would be anything other than appreciative of the fact that she had a job and accommodation.

  Below stairs, for those in service, there was a whole new set of rules and etiquette to be followed; a complete hierarchy, and in it, Sarah was right at the bottom of the ladder.

  “You will answer to me first of all,” Mrs Mirren barked, “but there is no one in this house who is lower ranked than yourself, so you needn’t put on all those airs and graces.”

  Sarah hadn’t quite expected such a harsh unfriendly manner from Mrs Mirren, but she was an intelligent young woman, and until Alan returned and set about restoring her reputation, she was willing to submit to the new regime. It only took a few days for her to learn just what was expected, and to whom she need defer.

  It also took only that small amount of time for her to realise that her reputation had preceded her, and though nothing was said to her face, she realised that most members of the staff believed she had been employed simply because the lords upstairs had other uses for her - non-domestic uses. This revelation cut deeply and reinforced the sense of hopelessness and shame threatening to overwhelm her. Of course it was all based on rumour, but that she had been given a position when there was none seemed to validate everything that had been said about her. That she had been outspoken and had acted above her station, also seemed to confirm that she was being ‘kept’.

  If her situation had not been so desperate, she would have walked out of the place and never returned.

  But as it was, she needed to see Sir Alan Mellington again, and she needed to appeal to his sense of honour. He was the only one who could speak the truth about her, and if he would not, then she felt she was lost.

  One person who seemed to have the same status as Sarah was another young housemaid, Lucinda Maddock. She was about twenty-two years old, had a pretty round face, and a charming full figure. In fact, it was the young woman whom she had greeted in the street not so long ago, and whom Susannah Allyson had taken great pains to warn her about. Considering the fact that Mrs Allyson had branded Lucinda as an indecent woman, and knowing just how much Mrs Allyson could misinterpret things, Sarah decided that it wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about Lucinda. Apart from anything else, Lucinda was about the only person in the house who did not talk behind her hand about her.

  “Talk is you’re a favourite of Sir Alan, miss,” Lucinda said to her one day, as they were cleaning the dining room.

  “I hardly know him,” Sarah replied shortly, surprised that Lucinda would speak so candidly.

  “But you have met him?” Lucinda persisted.

  “I have met him, yes,” Sarah admitted. “He was in need of some assistance, and I was able to help him at the time.”

  “He is a very handsome man, isn’t he?” Lucinda kept on, apparently unaware of the inappropriate nature of the discussion.

  “I do not think it is proper to be discussing the gentlemen upstairs in such a way, do you?” Sarah asked, quite sure that she should try to redirect the conversation.

  “Why not?” Lucinda asked, sounding surprised. “Do not tell me you agree with those self-righteous village people?”

  “Not at all,” Sarah replied. “I just think we should not talk about... you know, about... ”

  “They talk about you,” Lucinda pointed out.

  “Who talks about me?” Sarah almost spilt the oil she was using to refill a lamp.

  “I’ve heard Simon talk about you.”

  “First of all, I do not think we should be eavesdropping,” Sarah said evenly, “and secondly, I am not sure I care to hear anything at all that Sir Simon Mellington has to say.”

  “He seems to think that you have been involved in an affair with his brother... ”

  “Lucinda!” Sarah was shocked that the girl could speak so openly about such a disgraceful subject. “That is not true! You cannot believe it to be true!”

  “Why not?” Lucinda asked, unmoved by Sarah’s distress.

  “It is just gossip. Simply not true. You shouldn’t listen to such talk.”

  “Then you have not?”

  “Have not what?”

  “Had a romantic affair with Sir Alan Mellington?”

  A romantic affair! Does flirting count? Does showering him with care and attention count? I hope not!

  “Certainly not!” she said, as firmly as she could, hoping that this would bring an end to the conversation.

  “I think he is wonderful,” Lucinda continued dreamily. “Perhaps one day he will notice me.”

  Sarah wanted to shake the girl. But Lucinda didn’t appear to hear any of her sound advice. Sarah began to believe that Lucinda was living in a dream world.

  Fancy imagining that one of the lords of this house – Sir Alan Mellington especially – would consider the likes of her.

  But then Sarah caught herself. She had considered this very
thing, the evening when Alan had asked if they might pretend they could be friends.

  Wretched man! She thought. I need him here to exonerate me, and then I need to go home to my normal life.

  After nearly a week at Mellington Hall, Sarah came to the conclusion that the butler had been quite correct in his assessment that the house was already fully staffed.

  “I’ve been sent to see if there’s anything you need me to do,” Sarah spoke to the cook, Mrs Evans. At first it appeared that the short, round woman had not heard her, and Sarah cleared her throat to try again. “Excuse me,” she said. “Mrs Mirren has sent... ”

  “There ain’t nothin’ for the likes o’ you to do ‘ere!” Mrs Evans blurted angrily.

  “I can help peel vegetables,” Sarah said, noticing the huge pile of root vegetables that sat on the kitchen work table.

  “I said there’s nothin’ for ya. Now git along!”

  Sarah was only too aware of the problem. She knew Mrs Evans from the village church, and knew that she was an avid gossip, often in league with Mrs Allyson herself.

  But there was nothing she could say to such open hostility.

  “If you change your mind, I have not much else to do, and would be happy to do anything you want done.”

  The dumpy woman actually ‘humphed’ at this, and Sarah shook her head in frustration as she began to leave the large workroom.

  “As if I’d have the likes of that one sittin’ at me table and touchin’ me food,” the cook said to one of the other servants in the room. “She’s a trollop; you know that, do ye not. No doubt in the master’s bed.”

  Sarah’s eyes were stinging with tears as she came back into the main part of the house. She missed neither the words nor the tone, and it hurt her deeply. She had always behaved in a proper manner, and even her errand of mercy on behalf of Alan Mellington had been only her Christian duty. But to be so misjudged was a crushing burden to bear.

  She found Mrs Mirren again, and applied to her for a job to do.

  “It is none of my business if Lord Mellington wants to keep his woman in the house, but he cannot be expecting me to find work to do when there is none.”

  Sarah had had enough.

  “I am not anybody’s woman, not now, nor ever have been. I am an upright Christian woman, and I am honestly trying to do the job for which I have been employed. Please! There must be something that needs doing.”

  The housekeeper’s mouth became a thin line, which Sarah read as contempt.

  “You can dust the parlour and library,” the housekeeper said in a dismissive way.

  “I dusted them only this morning,” Sarah said evenly.

  “Then dust them again!”

  “Are there no other parts of the house that need attention?” she dared to ask. “What of the upper floor of the house?”

  Suddenly, Mrs Mirren’s tone became harsh. “You are not to go anywhere near there,” she snapped. “Do I make myself clear? That part of the house is out of bounds to you!”

  Sarah wanted to argue, but knew it would be fruitless.

  “Do not try me on this one, missy,” the housekeeper read her expression. “If you are caught in that part of the house, I will not be answerable for what will happen to you!”

  Reluctantly, Sarah went to find the dusters and small broom and dustpan. It was mind-numbing going over and over the same things, not achieving anything, and being no closer to establishing her innocence in the matters that had been charged against her.

  She could very easily have slipped into a pit of despair, but she had nothing if she didn’t have hope of vindication, so she wrestled with the constant dark thoughts that would come at her in her lonely night hours, and managed to be thankful that at least she had a roof over her head and food provided for her.

  She still felt the loss of family and friendship keenly. If it hadn’t been for the vicious Reverend Mr Snead, she would have made an attempt to do her daily prayers, but as it was, she was hurt and disillusioned by his cruel and unjust behaviour.

  Each day, Sarah asked Rupert if there was any word when Sir Alan was likely to return, and each day he summarily dismissed her, as if her question was impertinent. And after each dismissal, she would fume about the unfair conditions she was suffering.

  I am cut off and shamed while he gallivants around the country. If he were any sort of man, he would face up to his responsibilities. How hard can it be to simply tell the truth? If I were to find him half-dead in the woods again, I should leave him there to freeze.

  Sarah sometimes saw Simon Mellington. Generally, Simon paid no attention to the household staff, but with Sarah, he seemed to take delight in baiting her.

  “I am surprised at my brother, not coming back to such a delicious creature as yourself. I would have thought that once tasted, he would not have been able to leave you alone.”

  The talk was revolting, and Sarah made sure Simon was aware of her disgust. But he only seemed amused by it. In fact, he seemed to take it as a direct challenge to delight in.

  Sarah had been lighting the set fires in the drawing room and library, when Simon came upon her. She decided to ignore him and move quietly out of the room, but he came up to her and deliberately cornered her.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said, imitating the way that the other servants spoke to their masters.

  “Have you a moment, Miss Sarah,” Simon asked silkily.

  Sarah recognised flirtatious teasing in his tone of voice, but she still hoped he was going to give her positive news about Alan. She was trapped between him and the fireplace anyway, so she gave him her attention.

  “I know there is not much for you to do around the house. Perhaps you would care to spend some time with me?”

  “Mrs Mirren has given me work enough for the day,” she said in a detached tone.

  “Come now, my girl,” Simon boldly took her arm and pulled her closer towards him. But if he thought she would simply melt into his lecherous embrace, he was very much mistaken.

  “I am not your girl, sir. I am under the direct supervision of Mrs Mirren. I’m sorry I do not have the time to entertain you, but you will understand that my moral convictions would prevent it in any case.”

  “They did not prevent you from giving my brother what he wanted, did they?” Simon deliberately taunted her, and roughly pulled her right up so that her body was pressed against him.

  Immediately she fought to be released, and found her hand free to slap him sharply across the face.

  Simon let her go and stepped back. Sarah couldn’t tell whether he was angered or amused by her attack. She didn’t stay to find out, but hurried out of the library, and hid in her room for fifteen minutes while she calmed down.

  She wished that she could avoid seeing Simon altogether, but then she also hoped that one day she would find him talking to his brother, Alan. After all, Alan was the only one who could tell the truth and help release her from this unhappy situation.

  Every time Sarah passed the staircase leading to the second floor she paused and looked up. She didn’t analyse it too much, but curiosity was eating at her.

  It was Sunday, and most of the staff had the day off. Nearly all of them travelled into the village to attend church. As a result of the long established family tradition, Sarah wished that she could go too, but it only took a moment for her to remember that horrible incident in the churchyard for her to be glad she did not have to see them all again.

  But it left her with little to do. On this particular day, she saw Simon ride out, and Lucinda ventured her opinion that he was off to visit Lady Eloise while her husband was away. Sarah had given up trying to influence Lucinda’s conversation. She apparently had no scruples discussing any sordid idea that came into her head.

  But at least, with Simon out of the house, and most of the staff away at church, Sarah became a little bolder in her exploration of the upstairs.

  What is up there that has Mrs Mirren so determined that I must not venture anywhere near? Sh
e thought. She had already assumed that Alan’s rooms must be on that level, as they were not on the first floor. She took the first few steps to the first landing, with the intention of perhaps venturing further, but she was startled by Lucinda.

  “Get away from there,” Lucinda called, as she passed below. “If old Rupert catches you, there’ll be the devil to pay, to be sure.”

  “Why?” Sarah couldn’t help asking.

  Lucinda shrugged her shoulders. “I know Sir Alan has his rooms up there, but I’ve never been invited up.”

  “Why would you be invited up?” Sarah asked, pretending innocence.

  “Sir Alan is not like that, is he?” Lucinda said with a sigh.

  “I should hope not,” Sarah said. “Who cleans the rooms up there?”

  “Well, it’s not me,” Lucinda said with a sigh, “though I’d very much like to have the chance.”

  So would I, Sarah thought. What on earth are they hiding up there that a couple of helpless housemaids pose a threat?

  “Anyway, Rupert and Mrs Mirren are off to church this morning,” Sarah said. “I doubt they’ll be back inside the hour.”

  “They take it in turns, going to church,” Lucinda said easily. “Week about.”

  Sarah was surprised by this information.

  “Does not all the staff go?” she asked.

  “Heavens, no!” Lucinda laughed. “I don’t ever go,” she said proudly. “I have not been in two years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah apologised, but then realised that there was nothing to be sorry for. Several weeks ago, she had valued the regular church attendance, but after the way they had harshly judged her and treated her so cruelly, she realised that what she had believed about the decent Christian folk of the village was just an illusion.

  “I’m not sorry,” Lucinda said quickly. “The church is full of hypocrites and I want nothing to do with any of them.”

  While Sarah found herself agreeing with Lucinda on many levels, she still struggled to cope with the fact that she was a Christian woman, and attending service once a week was something that should be done. Still, even if she had been able to do it, she knew she would have been turned away at the door. As Lucinda continued her bitter tirade against the narrow-minded bigots who infested the village, Sarah gradually disconnected with the conversation. Her own memory of what they believed about her and the shunning had cut deep, and she still couldn’t get over it.