The enormous steak and kidney pie that Cook had made for them was delicious and it was served with fluffy mashed potatoes, Brussel sprouts and green beans covered in a thick, creamy gravy. This was followed by apple pie and custard and Pearl, who hadn’t realised she was hungry, tucked in, although she noticed that Eliza barely ate a thing. But then she did look tired, Pearl decided, and after a good night’s sleep she would hopefully be as bright as a button.
Once the meal was over, Pearl volunteered to help with the washing up and finally when all the pots were washed and dried, Cook thanked her and told Rachel to take them up to the room they would be sharing in the servants’ quarters. Again, Eliza didn’t look too happy with that, and she followed the two older girls up the narrow wooden staircase with a frown on her face.
‘This’ll be your room,’ Rachel told them, as she threw a door at the end of a long corridor open. ‘Cook got Esther to make the beds up fer you earlier on. Oh, an’ yer can ’ave this candle, if yer like. You’ll each find there’s a chamber pot under yer bed should yer need to go in the night, but make sure as yer take it out to the toilet an’ empty it first thing then rinse it under the tap. Mrs Brookes is a stickler fer that sort o’ thing.’
‘Thank you, Rachel.’
As the girl quietly left, Pearl looked about the room, which like her room in Canada had a sloped ceiling. There was a washstand with a jug of hot water and a towel that someone had kindly placed there for them. There was also an old chest of drawers and a rather rickety chair, but other than that and the two small beds, the room was bare and very cold.
‘So where will I hang all my new dresses?’ Eliza said petulantly as she stared around.
‘It looks like they’ll have to hang on those nails on the back of the door,’ her sister replied, as she hurriedly looked for their nightdresses in the small trunk they had brought. ‘But I won’t be unpacking them tonight. I just want a wash and to snuggle down in bed.’
Plonking herself on the edge of the bed, Eliza pouted and crossed her arms. The bedroom she was used to back at the Forbeses’ house was much prettier than this one, and she had always had a small fire burning in the grate to keep her warm.
‘Mrs Forbes won’t be pleased when she knows they’ve sent me to sleep in this ’orrible room,’ she grumbled. ‘Back at their ’ouse she always had a stone hot-water bottle put in my bed to make sure I was warm.’
‘Well, you’re not at their house now, are you?’ Pearl answered, more sharply than she had intended, as she hastily undressed and began to wash herself. She knew very well about the stone hot-water bottle as it was often her responsibility to put it there – not that Eliza seemed to care. ‘I suggest you just make the best of it for tonight. Anywhere is better than being on that ship, surely?’ Crossing to her bed, she hopped in, and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
Once she’d heard Eliza do the same, she blew the candle out, and within minutes she was fast asleep.
They were woken early the next morning by a tap on the door. ‘Wakey-wakey rise an’ shine,’ Rachel called softly and then they heard her footsteps recede along the landing.
Soon after, washed and dressed, the girls went down to the kitchen to find Cook busy preparing breakfast for the family.
‘Well, don’t just stand there gawpin’,’ the cook told them. ‘Come an’ start washin’ these dishes. Rachel is busy preparin’ the mushrooms.’
Pearl happily rolled her sleeves up and did as she was told, although Eliza didn’t look too happy about it. She had grown used to being pampered by Mrs Forbes back in Canada and she wasn’t at all keen on being set to work again.
The next hour passed in the blink of an eye as the staff rushed about, laying the table in the large dining room and making sure the fires were lit. Then as the family made their way to breakfast, Eliza glimpsed Mrs Forbes behind her mother in the hallway, as the maid opened the door to carry a steaming tray of sizzling bacon through to them. Eliza’s eyes filled with tears; she was feeling very abandoned. This wasn’t turning out to be the sort of holiday she had expected it to be at all. She had thought that Mrs Forbes’s mother would dote on her as her daughter did, but up to now that hadn’t been the case at all.
Mrs Kennedy-Scott spotted Eliza peeping into the hallway and as she followed her daughter into the dining room, she frowned. As soon as breakfast is over I shall have a good talk with Emmaline, she decided. Thankfully, Emmaline looked a lot better after a good night’s sleep and her mother was determined to keep her busy. They could go shopping this morning, for a start. Her husband would be off to his office after breakfast and Zack had mentioned that he wanted to visit the woodyard that he owned where the timber he sent from his sawmill in Canada was delivered. That just left Monty, and she was sure that he was more than capable of keeping himself occupied for a time.
After breakfast the men took their leave of the ladies and, pouring them both another cup of tea, Emmaline’s mother said, ‘I thought we might go and do a bit of shopping this morning, darling. It isn’t often we get chance to spend any time together so I think we should make the most of it.’
Emmaline nodded absently as her eyes went to the door, and her mother immediately guessed she was thinking of Eliza.
It was the ideal opportunity to voice her concerns, so she began hesitantly, ‘I was thinking that the two girls you brought with you could be a great help over the holidays with so many extra people in the house. I’ve already suggested to Mrs Brookes that the older one could act as your lady’s maid and the younger one could help out in the kitchen.’
Her daughter looked dismayed as she sipped daintily at the tea her mother had passed her. ‘But Pearl wouldn’t have any idea what to do as a lady’s maid,’ she pointed out. ‘And Eliza . . . well, I’m not at all sure that she’s strong enough yet to resume kitchen duties.’
Her mother waved her hand airily. ‘Rubbish. I’m sure the older one would jump at the chance to better herself; she seems to be very bright and polite. And the younger one will be fine, so stop worrying.’
Emmaline still wasn’t happy with the idea, but her mother was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind on something, so she fell silent until it was time for them to go and put their coats and bonnets on, while the groom fetched the carriage around to the front door.
After they had left the house, Mrs Brookes went to the kitchen to tell the two girls about her mistress’s decision.
‘Pearl, Mrs Kennedy-Scott thought that during your stay you could act as Mrs Forbes’s lady’s maid.’
Pearl, who was in the process of clearing the staff’s dirty pots from the table, stared at her open-mouthed. ‘But Mrs Brookes, I ain’t . . . I mean, I have never done that before. I wouldn’t know what to do.’
The kindly housekeeper smiled at her. She’d taken a shine to Pearl, although she wasn’t so sure what to make of her sister. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you what you need to do and you’ll learn as you go along,’ she promised. Then, turning her attention to Eliza, she told her, ‘And we thought, seeing as we have a lot more people here for Christmas than we’d reckoned on, that you could be a great help to Cook in the kitchen.’
The cook nodded in agreement. ‘She would that,’ she agreed, although Eliza didn’t look too enamoured of the idea.
‘Good, that’s sorted then.’ Mrs Brookes rubbed her hands together and, turning to Pearl, she said, ‘If you come along with me, I can give you some idea of what will be expected of you while your mistress is out.’
Pearl nodded and followed her upstairs to her mistress’s bedroom, where Mrs Brookes looked at the mistress’s clothes that were strewn about. ‘It’s the duty of a lady’s maid to always keep her mistress’s clothes in good order,’ she explained as she picked up the gown Emmaline had worn the previous evening. ‘If any clothes that are left about are clean, then you hang them neatly away. If they are dirty, you take them to the laundry where they will be washed and ironed before being returned to you. Every mo
rning, you will help your mistress to get dressed and do her hair for her, and it will also be your job to help her undress and change for dinner. When she wishes to bathe, it is also your job to see to the running of the bath and to make sure that she has everything she needs to hand – soap, towels and whatever. How does that sound?’
Pearl bit her lip as she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. ‘But I’ve never done anyone’s hair before, only Eliza’s,’ she said worriedly.
‘Oh, don’t get worrying about that. I’m sure your mistress will show you how she likes it done, and you know the old saying: “practice makes perfect”. Everyone has to start somewhere and this could pave the way to you getting a very good job in the future. You never know, if Mrs Forbes is pleased with you, she may even ask you to continue to be her personal maid when you get back to Canada. Think what a step up that will be from being a housemaid. But now I’ll leave you to get on.’
And with that she swept from the room, her bombazine skirts swishing as Pearl began to sort through Mrs Forbes clothes and tidy them away.
It was mid-morning before she entered the kitchen again with an armful of Mrs Forbes’s dirty laundry that she had worn on the ship.
‘Bridget will take them for you,’ Cook told her, nodding to the little laundry maid who had just come in from the laundry for a tea break. ‘And there’s fresh tea in the pot if you want one.’
Eliza was chopping onions on a big wooden block and Pearl wasn’t sure if the tears on her cheeks were due to the onions or the fact that she was once again being forced to do a menial job. Pearl was painfully aware that she had come out the lucky one for now, and she felt so sorry for her little sister that she almost wished they could change places.
‘Haven’t you finished them onions yet, girl?’ Cook snapped at Eliza and Pearl saw her sister glare at her mutinously. But there was nothing Pearl could do about it; for now at least, Eliza was just going to have to get on with things whether she liked it or lumped it.
Chapter Twenty
A
fter a morning of trailing from one shop to another and making numerous purchases, Mrs Kennedy-Scott finally took her daughter to lunch in a lovely restaurant close to Oxford Street, by which time snow had started to fall in thick flakes.
‘I think you’ll find the food is delicious here,’ she told her daughter. ‘Your father brought me here for our anniversary.’ Emmaline had been unnaturally quiet all morning and as she handed her a menu she asked, ‘So, why don’t you tell me what is troubling you? Something clearly is.’
Her daughter shrugged as she pretended to study the menu.
Her mother sighed. ‘Would this be anything to do with Eliza by any chance?’ The colour that flooded into her daughter’s cheeks was her answer. She took a deep breath, before saying gently, ‘Look, I know that Christmas can’t be an easy time for you, darling. We all miss Elizabeth. But taking Eliza under your wing isn’t the answer, believe me. I can see why you are drawn to her, of course. The first time I saw her I got quite a shock because of the likeness. But you have to realise that no one can take Elizabeth’s place and it isn’t healthy for you to try and replace her.’
‘I wasn’t trying to,’ Emmaline denied heatedly, as she blinked back tears. ‘I just . . . I suppose I just felt sorry for her because she was so unwell when she first came to me, that’s all.’
‘I can quite understand that.’ Her mother reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘But you have to understand that she is quite well again now, and Pearl is her sister. It wouldn’t be right to go on treating them so differently. So, from now on, I want you to promise me that you will let Eliza return to the role you first employed her for. It wouldn’t do to let her get ideas above her station.’
They were interrupted by the waiter who was waiting for their order and so the conversation came to an abrupt end, but Mrs Kennedy-Scott felt deep down that this wasn’t the end of it – not by a long way.
‘Goodness me, is there anything left in the shops?’ Emmaline’s father laughed as the two women sailed through the door, loaded down with bags later that afternoon.
His wife smiled. ‘This isn’t all of it, I’m afraid, darling; there is still more to be delivered – but then it is Christmas, and it isn’t often I get to go shopping with my daughter nowadays.’ She dropped the packages unceremoniously on to the floor as the maid rushed forward to help her off with her coat. ‘And I could almost kill for a cup of tea! The problem is my head still thinks I am twenty-one, but my body tells me otherwise.’
‘I’ll see to it straight away, ma’am.’ The maid smiled as her mistress took the hat pin from her hat and smoothed her hair.
‘Thank you, Sophie. We’ll have it in the drawing room.’ From the corner of her eye she saw Emmaline watch the maid as she headed for the kitchen, no doubt hoping for a glimpse of Eliza, but she didn’t say anything and followed her parents into the drawing room, where a welcoming fire was blazing up the chimney.
‘I have a feeling you may end up being here longer than Zack had planned,’ Mrs Kennedy-Scott said, as she glanced towards the window where they could see the snow still falling thickly. ‘Surely no boat will sail in this?’
‘Of course it will,’ her husband said fondly, although he would have quite liked to have his daughter around for a little longer. It had been such a lovely surprise when she had turned up so unexpectedly. He had even finished work early to spend some time with her, only to return home to find she and his wife had gone off on a shopping spree.
‘Is Zack still at the woodyard?’ Emmaline enquired as she warmed her hands at the fire.
He nodded. ‘Yes, as far as I know, but he did say he would be back in plenty of time for dinner.’
Andrew Kennedy-Scott was tall with dark hair that now sported a spattering of grey about the temples, but he was still a very good-looking man who adored his wife and daughter. When he and Laura had first married, they had dreamed of having a horde of children, but sadly his wife had almost died having Emmaline and the doctor had strongly advised against them having any more, which only made their daughter all the more precious to them.
He looked closely at her, pleased with what he saw. The untimely death of their beautiful little granddaughter had almost driven Emmaline to insanity. She did look better now, although there was still a haunted look in her eyes, but then Andrew supposed that was to be expected. Elizabeth had been a charming little girl who captured the hearts of every-one who met her and they had all been heartbroken when she died. His grandson, however, was a different kettle of fish altogether and Andrew struggled with him. Monty had never made a secret of the fact that he was jealous of his sister when she came along, and in nature he and Elizabeth had been as different as chalk from cheese, so much so that sometimes Andrew had wondered how two such different personalities could have come from the same womb. Elizabeth had been like her mother: sweet and kind, whereas Monty had always had a cruel streak – not that he ever showed it openly in front of his grandfather; he knew that Andrew would never have stood for it. As he thought of him, he asked, ‘So where is Monty then? Did he go shopping with you?’
Laura laughed as the maid wheeled in the tea trolley. ‘Don’t be silly. Can you imagine Monty wanting to trail around the shops?’ And then, looking at Sophie, she asked, ‘Would you happen to know where my grandson is, Sophie?’
‘Yes, ma’am. He said he was going out for a walk about an hour since.’ The words had barely left her lips when they heard the front door opening and, seconds later, Monty entered the room with a sullen expression on his face.
‘Ah, here you are.’ Emmaline smiled warmly at him. ‘We were just asking where you had got to. Did you have a nice walk, darling? I hope you wrapped up warmly; it’s bitterly cold out there and I don’t want you coming down with a cold. Did you go to meet a school friend?’
He scowled at her as he crossed to the fire. ‘I don’t have any friends here,’ he said sullenly. ‘All my friends are b
ack at home.’
‘Don’t speak to your mother like that,’ his grandfather scolded with a frown, and without a word Monty turned and left the room, slamming the door resoundingly behind him. ‘Cheeky young pup, it’s no wonder he’s made no friends if he speaks to people like that!’
Emmaline chewed nervously on her lip. ‘I just wonder if we’ve done the right thing,’ she whispered.
‘You most certainly have,’ her father assured her. ‘That school will teach him some manners, if nothing else. But let’s not talk about it anymore. Why don’t you show me what you’ve been spending my and your husband’s money on?’
An hour later Emmaline went upstairs to find Pearl putting away the rest of her things. The room was immaculate and Emmaline smiled at her. ‘I hear you’re to act as my lady’s maid while you’re here?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Pearl awkwardly bobbed her knee as Mrs Brookes had advised her to. ‘And I promise I’ll do my best, although I’ve never done anything like this before.’
For the first time, Emmaline looked at her closely. She had always been so enamoured with Eliza that she had never really taken a lot of notice of Pearl. She was actually a very attractive girl with the same soft blonde hair and green eyes as her younger sister, but whereas Pearl, with her heart-shaped face, was pretty, her sister was beautiful.
‘I’m sure we shall get along famously,’ she assured her, as she took the pins from her hair, and then she couldn’t help but ask, ‘And how is Lizzie?’
‘She’s fine, ma’am. She’s helping Cook in the kitchen.’
‘Hm.’ Emmaline sat down at her dressing table and began to brush her hair. She couldn’t see Eliza being too happy about that, but her mother had made it more than plain that at least for the duration of the visit there wasn’t much she could do about it. ‘Good, well I think I’ll have a rest now. At about five o’clock could you run me a bath and perhaps come back to help me get dressed for dinner?’
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