by Kimberly Nee
However, she didn’t want to see Josephine’s naiveté be her downfall either, so as they were going up the servants’ staircase, she said, “I should probably tell you, there are certain expectations Mrs. Bates will have for you. One is to never discuss family business beyond the walls of Marchand Hall or with those outside the family. Another is to do nothing to bring shame or scandal upon the family. And third, and this might be the most important of them, you do not try to win the favors of the men. You will be fired. Immediately. No excuses and no exceptions. And even worse, no references to be had.”
Josephine paused on the landing, looking up at Katie, who was two steps above her. “But what if one of them shows an interest in me?”
“It doesn’t matter. You are off-limits and should remain so. Especially to guests. Make no mistake, Mrs. Bates is very nice, but she is also very strict. She will never allow that sort of thing to go on under this roof.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
As I should also keep that in mind. Katie pressed her lips together. She would do well to heed her own warnings.
Katie found Martha in their room, already dressed in her formal black serving dress. With a pang of disappointment, she realized there would be no reading lesson this evening. It wouldn’t long before Martha wouldn’t have any free time to continue their lessons at all. She’d have to hope that someone else took pity on her and offered to pick up where Martha left off.
“So, I understand Mrs. Bates has already replaced me,” Martha said as Katie disappeared behind the privacy screen to change.
As Katie donned her formal dress, she said, “Replaced is such a nasty little word. It’s so much nicer to say ‘brought in someone to try to fill your spot’. There’s a new maid, and she seems nice, but she’s hardly replaced you. Thankfully Mrs. Bates said nothing about making Abigail the head housemaid. I think Abigail is going to be very disappointed. Her dream is not about to come true.”
“Perhaps that’s why Mrs. Bates hired a new girl?”
Stiff linen schwiffed as Katie ran her palms over the skirts. The fabric was cool and smooth. “I doubt it. This girl is barely out of swaddling clothes, and has very fancy dreams of snagging the heart of one of the Sebastiano men. She’s a way to go before she will be head maid.”
“Come now, you can’t fault her for that.” Laughter tinted Martha’s voice. “They are a handsome bunch of devils. At one point or another, we’ve all entertained the notion.”
Martha had no way to know just how true she spoke, and Katie was not about to add to it. She emerged from behind the screen to find Martha perched on the edge of the window sill. “Abigail tried to stir up trouble. Fortunately, that was when Mrs. Bates brought Josephine in.”
“Did she ask you about your eye?”
“Josephine?”
“No!” Martha laughed. “Abigail!”
Katie brushed the bruise with gentle fingertips. “She did, but more to mock than to show actual concern. I think she was trying to goad me into hitting her, and she didn’t know how close I was to it. I’m tired of looking like this.” She touched the bruise again, a little harder this time, and winced.
“Don’t worry. It’s fine. You looked much worse yesterday.”
“Thank you. I think.”
Martha laughed. “Come. I need to get up to Lady Edna’s chambers. Perhaps if we finish early enough, we can try another chapter. I know it’s been a while, but I’m sure you haven’t forgotten what you’ve learned.”
“Mrs. Bates is finally allowing me near the dining room. Apparently I’m not nearly as frightening as I was a few days ago.”
Martha flicked something from her skirts, fluffing them as she rose. “You were never frightening. Just…colorful.” She came over to pat Katie on the arm, and the gesture did what it was intended to do, relieved Katie of some of her dark mood. “Don’t worry, we always blend into the background. No one will even notice.”
That much was true. The family did seem to forget the servants were never far away. Some of the things Katie heard, that were never meant for her ears, were wilder than the gossip back in Jamaica. And that was saying something. But somehow she didn’t think her eye would be missed by anyone. It was still colorful, as Martha liked to point out. “I hope not.”
“Trust me. They won’t.”
Martha gave her another pat and rustled out the door to make her way to Lady Edna’s chambers. Katie closed the door behind her, and let her smile fade away and take her fair mood with it. The door was warm and sleek as she leaned against it.
This wouldn’t trouble her half as much if none of the Sebastianos had come to Bermuda. Anyone else, and she wouldn’t have worried about whether or not she blended into the background.
A dull headache began to take root behind her eyes. Why did everything have to become so complicated again? Why couldn’t things stay simple, just a while longer? Katie wished she’d been ordered back to bed for a few more days, or at least until the Sebastianos were gone.
A heavy weight pressed down on her shoulders, one she couldn’t shake. It was almost as uncomfortable as a physical pain and she had no idea how long it would last. Physical pain would pass in a few days. But emotional pain? She knew it could be years before she felt any sort of relief. It took every bit of will she possessed to lift her head and hurry after Martha. It wouldn’t do to annoy Lady Sally. Otherwise, Katie might find herself demoted to kitchen maid.
* * * * *
The cacophony of voices coming from the dining room sounded as if the two families were arguing, with each one trying to out-shout the other. Their voices reverberated out into the servants’ corridor, loud and clear enough for Josephine to cast a wary glance at Mr. Jamison, her white-gloved hands trembling. “Do they always fight like this? I don’t know if I can go in there.”
He sniffed, frowning as he arranged the wine decanters on their tray. The wine was served by grape, with the whites served first, and Katie bit back a smile. Mr. Jamison did the same thing every evening—rearranged the decanters until they pleased him, and they always ended up in their original place on the tray. As he moved this bottle and that, he rumbled, “They’re not fighting, Josephine. Now, be quiet.”
Abigail snickered and didn’t trouble to hide it, which earned her a disapproving glare from Mr. Jamison. “Mrs. Bates is going to make you Mrs. North’s assistant if you don’t mind your tongue.”
“Leave her be, Abigail,” Katie broke in. They’d come up too early, assuming the dinner meal had ended, only to find no one had left their place yet. Then she’d heard the raised voices and known why they had to wait. With so much lively conversation, food was forgotten except for a bite or two here and there.
With nothing else to do, the maids returned to the servants’ dining hall, where they sat at the table and sipped tea. Katie’s stomach rumbled. If the meal above dragged on, it meant a longer wait for the servants to have theirs. Definitely one of the disadvantages of being in service. But it was better than not eating at all, which had happened to Katie more than once when times were tough in Jamaica. A delayed meal was far preferable to a missed one. She sipped her tea, determined to ignore the rumbling in her belly.
Then Abigail’s stomach growled loudly enough for them all to hear. She grimaced, pressing her hand against it. “Oh, I do wish they’d hurry. I’d like to eat before midnight.”
“Hush, Abigail,” Mrs. Bates snapped crossly, frowning at them as she pulled a spoon through her tea. It clinked softly against the cup’s rim in a cheerful melody. She tapped off the excess and set the spoon on the saucer before adding, “You aren’t the only one who’s hungry.”
Abigail exhaled noisily and threw herself into a chair with a great flourish. Another sickly gurgle rose up from her midsection. “I’ve not eaten since noon. I missed tea.”
“That was your own fault. You didn’t need to take so long tidyin
g Captain Sebastiano’s chambers.” Mrs. Bates pushed the teapot in her direction. “Have a bit of this. It will help.”
Abigail crossed her arms and scowled at Mrs. Bates, but remained silent as she stared at the white teapot with the delicate blue flowers on it. Katie leaned an elbow on the table and said to Josephine, “They always sound like that, whether they are arguing or not. When there are guests, it’s even worse. The stress of having so much to do, I suppose. And the Sebastianos are a large family. I expect they are loud because of that. So much competition to be heard.”
Mr. Jamison turned his glare on her, but there wasn’t quite as much heat in it. “That’ll do, Katie.”
“They are a bit boisterous,” Mrs. Bates added with a hint of a smile, bringing her cup to her lips to sip. “And I think Katie’s right about the Sebastiano family. Especially with all those men in it. Men cannot help themselves. They are naturally loud. Put them together and you have one very lively group.”
“We have to be loud, to get a word in with so many chattering ladies about,” Mr. Jamison countered with a rare grin.
A bell rang, and Mrs. Bates clapped her hands. “That’ll be you, Abigail and Josephine. Katie, perhaps you should just stay below for now.”
Katie bobbed her head smartly. She didn’t fault anyone for wanting to hide her colorful face out of sight. And it solved her dilemma of not wanting to go above. “Of course, Mrs. Bates.”
Abigail snickered. “Clumsy girl. And now too bruised to be seen by those who matter.”
“Don’t be stupid, Abigail,” Mrs. Bates snapped. “It doesn’t reflect well on any of us if we don’t appear our best, and I don’t want Katie feeling she is responsible for it, when she is the victim here.” Her forehead furrowed. “Although, it does worry me, that the man responsible hasn’t been caught yet.”
Her gaze fell on Katie. “It’s a pity you don’t recall if you saw who attacked you.”
“I do wish I could,” Katie replied. “But I couldn’t even say for certain it was a man at all. All I know is he—or she—is a coward.”
“Oh, no doubt,” Mrs. Bates agreed. “No doubt at all.”
Abigail’s jaw tightened at the word ‘coward’ and a hint of color appeared on her high cheekbones. She took a half-step toward Katie, but must have thought better of it and stepped back, muttering, “Victim? More like harlot.”
Katie shot her a look, only to find Abigail staring at the ground. It wasn’t an accusation, just a retort. A small relief, but Katie would take it for now.
Mrs. Bates, however, was having none of it. She rounded on Abigail with a sharp, “There will be none of that talk in this house, Abigail. Is that clear? You will speak as a lady and not a guttersnipe. I will not stand for it and neither will anyone else. You would do well to remember that.”
The spots of color burned scarlet as the flush swept all the way up beneath Abigail’s cap. Her scowl melting away, she cast her eyes downward and nodded slowly. “Yes, Mrs. Bates. I beg your pardon. It won’t happen again.”
“I should hope not. Now go before she rings again.” Mrs. Bates waved both girls toward the doorway. “And Abigail, do not make Josephine look foolish. She is new here.”
The others left, and Katie stood in the dining hall, at a loss as to what she should do. Although she hadn’t wanted to serve, now she didn’t want to be left at the table by herself. It was lonely, having nothing to do while maids and footmen hurried to attend to their duties elsewhere in the house, and it did nothing to ease her feeling of always being on edge. She heard the rattle and clang of various pots and pans, and Lucy chattering gaily to Mrs. North about a young man she’d met in the village on her day out. Katie smiled. She didn’t know Lucy well—only to smile and bid a good day—but she enjoyed hearing her retell her afternoon, with such a dreamy tone to her voice. It made her feel a little less isolated.
Then the topic turned to something much more mundane than young love, and Katie’s mind wandered back to the dining room above. A terrible idea.
She rose and went into the kitchen to offer to help. Mrs. North and Lucy stared at her as if she’d gone completely mad.
“Mrs. Bates would go purple if she thought I’d put you to work in here,” Mrs. North declared, hands on her hips. “You’re not a kitchen maid and you’ll not be treated as one.”
She wasn’t surprised by the response, as every servant was well aware of their place in the social order. A maid working as a kitchen helper would be almost as ludicrous as Lady Sally offering to serve as a housemaid. It just wasn’t done. But she wasn’t giving up without a protest. “I know, but I’m an idle maid, as Mrs. Bates doesn’t want me anywhere near the dining room just yet, although it’s supposed to be empty now. Please, Mrs. North, isn’t there something I might do? I’d be happy washing dishes if you need me to.”
“How’d you get that bruised eye?” Lucy asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “Everyone’s been wondering about it, but no one will say if they know.”
“Lucy!” Mrs. North shot her a horrified look.
Lucy didn’t back down at Mrs. North’s gasp, nor did her pale cheeks show any sign of embarrassed color. “Well, they have.” She drew herself up to her full height of not quite five feet, which brought her up to Katie’s chin. “I won’t tell if you don’t want me to. I just like the idea of knowing something no one else does.”
Lucy’s bluntness caught Katie by surprise and left her momentarily at a loss for words. She stared at the girl, wondering if she should laugh or scold. But Lucy wasn’t being malicious or smug, like Abigail. She was merely curious, and Katie couldn’t fault her. If she wore Lucy’s shoes, she’d probably be just as outspoken in her curiosity.
Before she could answer, Mrs. North broke in. “Then why don’t you acquaint yourself with that bin of dishes needing to be washed? I’m sure that would be a story no one else would know as well. Get to work.” She jabbed her forefinger at the bin in question, then turned her faded blue gaze to Katie. Although she spoke sharply, sympathy overflowed in her eyes. “As for your helping in here, that is out of the question. You’ve a free evening; don’t begrudge it. The others won’t be down for a bit yet, so sit and read the newspaper. Have another cup of tea and enjoy a rest. It won’t last forever, you know. You should enjoy it whilst you can.”
Katie didn’t want to tell the cook she couldn’t read or that the last thing she wanted was yet another cup of tea, so she simply nodded. “Of course, Mrs. North. How foolish of me. I’ll enjoy it while I can, I suppose. But if I might help—”
“You’ll be the first one I bellow for. Now, off with you, like a good girl. We’ve work to do.” Mrs. North turned and walked away, gesturing for Lucy to follow, leaving Katie in the doorway, staring at two retreating backs. Her argument lost, she went back to the table and sat down, dragging the creased, slightly smeared newspaper toward her. She glared at the teapot as if it had just insulted her. The water had long since gone cold, and she really didn’t want to trouble Mrs. North by asking her to reheat it.
She squinted at the smudged newspaper and began the torture that was reading. The words fairly swam on the page, but there were a few she recognized, so she spent the time reading what she could and trying to figure out what she couldn’t. By the time everyone returned and it was time for their dinner, she didn’t care if she ever attempted to read another word. Her mind wandered. She found herself listening to Mrs. North and Lucy again, wondering if maybe—just maybe—she should think about setting her own goals a bit loftier.
Her thoughts came back to her kiss with Rafe, and guilt flashed through her. Lady Sally would be devastated if she knew about that kiss. God would have to grace her and keep Rafe as far away from her as possible. Especially once he married Lady Sally.
The pain would be greater than any bruised eye could ever be.
So, as much as she would miss Marchand Hall and the people within its w
alls, the time had come to move on.
Which left her with really only one option.
Perhaps it was time to go home to Jamaica.
Chapter Twelve
Katie tried to imagine the look on Balboa’s face when she turned up in Kingston. She smiled all through her chores the next morning, every time she thought about it. Hopefully passage to Jamaica wouldn’t wipe out her entire savings, as she certainly didn’t want to come ashore with nothing in her pockets but lint. She didn’t want to have to start over again. She’d done so when she arrived in Bermuda and had vowed she would never be that poor again.
“Where are you today?” Abigail’s voice pricked through Katie’s pleasant thoughts like a knife tip through a soap bubble. A not-so-gentle nudge to her shoulder accompanied those words. Mrs. Bates must have left the room.
“Don’t do that.” Katie glared at Abigail as the other woman nudged her again. They were supposed to be dusting the upper hallway, from the ceiling to the railing, and the numerous vases filled with draping ferns. Katie fought off a sigh. It was going to be a long day. Why couldn’t she have been assigned to work with Josephine?
“Then you should answer me.”
“You didn’t say anything worth answering.” Katie moved to one of the gold urns, crouching to dust the rim.
“I think her Ladyship is going to announce the engagement this afternoon. That’s what Lucy was saying to Mrs. North.”
“How would Lucy know?”
The look Abigail shot her suggested she was as stupid as the fern fronds brushing her legs. “Very simply, really. No one ever notices Lucy. She’s even more invisible than we are. She comes in to tend to the fires and no one sees her. They talk openly in front of her. Even more so than they do in front of us. The best thing about us is that we are good at being invisible. Even you would have to admit to hearing things that were never meant for your ears.”