Dilly Court

The River Maid


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haunted her dreams and she had awakened that morning feeling sick and angry.

      ‘You won’t say nothing, will you?’ Sadie asked anxiously. ‘I’ll get me ears boxed for certain if you tell on me.’

      ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. Anyway, Lady Alice said you were to bring me my meals so I won’t be mixing with the servants below stairs.’

      Sadie’s eyes rounded in surprise and her mouth dropped open. ‘Lawks, who would have thought it? She don’t normally interfere with the running of things – Mrs Dent does that. Her majesty below stairs won’t be best pleased.’

      Essie left Sadie standing at the foot of the narrow staircase, muttering to herself. There was enough intrigue going on without involving the servants in Hill Street, and she doubted if Sadie could resist the temptation to pass on a juicy piece of gossip sparked off by a careless word.

      There was a fresh pile of mending in the sewing room and Essie set to work with a will. At least she could enjoy the peace and quiet up here above the trees tops, although she had a feeling that a storm was brewing. There was no particular reason for alarm but Essie had seen the expression of Lady Alice’s face when she read the document, and it was one of puzzlement followed by a tightening of the lips and a furrowed brow.

      When the sun was high in the sky at midday Sadie arrived with a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. After a brief greeting she disappeared again, returning minutes later with a tea tray. ‘Her ladyship said you was to be treated well.’ She dumped the tray on the table with an expressive sigh. ‘You ought to be a fly on the wall in the kitchen, miss. They don’t know who you are or where you came from, and it’s driving them all mad. Mr Fielding is the worst. He says you’re up to no good and her ladyship should be warned, and then Mrs Dent told him to hold his tongue and he didn’t like that one bit. Then Cook stood up for him and she got a mouthful from Mrs Dent, because she won’t take cheek from no one. It’s better than a trip to the circus down there.’

      Essie tasted the soup. ‘Tell Cook the soup is delicious, but don’t say anything else, Sadie. I’ll get on with my work and you must try to keep out of trouble.’

      Sadie tapped the side of her nose, winking and grinning. ‘I ain’t enjoyed meself so much since the matron at the Foundling Hospital got bit on the bum by her pet dog. It clung on for dear life, and it served her right for beating it with a cane just the same as she whacked us nippers whenever she felt like it. You only had to look at her the wrong way and she’d get that stinger off the wall and come at you with her face all screwed up with rage, and the tips of her ears flaming red.’ Sadie left the room and Essie could hear her giggling all the way to the stairs.

      The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Essie was restless and the afternoon dragged. Curiosity as to the information she had passed on to Lady Alice was nagging at her like a sore tooth, but she knew she would have to wait until she had a chance to speak to Raven, although there was no guarantee that he would tell her anything. She longed to know more about Freddie and his exile in Italy, and Raven himself was a mystery that she found both intriguing and exasperating.

      Sadie brought her a cup of tea late in the afternoon. She was more subdued this time, having been in trouble with Cook for breaking a plate, the cost of which would be deducted from her wages that quarter, which meant that she had worked for almost nothing. ‘I’d rather have a beating.’ Sadie’s bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was going to buy meself a pair of boots with me wages. I saw a pair in the popshop in Shepherd Market. They was red leather with little heels what would have made me look taller, and that would make me look more grown up. If people thought I was older they’d treat me better.’

      ‘Red leather,’ Essie said thoughtfully. ‘Not very practical for work, Sadie. I doubt if Mrs Dent would approve.’

      ‘But I would look like a princess. I’d only wear them for best, and I’d keep them in a box under me bed so that I could take them out at night and put them on. I bet I could move light as a fairy in them boots, and no one would laugh at me.’

      ‘I don’t doubt it,’ Essie said, smiling. ‘I’m sure you’ll get your red boots once day.’ She drank the rapidly cooling tea and handed the cup to Sadie, who was gazing out of the window with a rapt expression on her small features as if she was in a delightful daydream. ‘Ahem,’ Essie cleared her throat in an attempt to bring Sadie back to the present. ‘I need to speak to her ladyship before I go home. Do you know where I might find her?’

      Sadie blinked and stared at her as if she had just awakened from a nap. ‘I took a tray of tea to the drawing room before I come up here. But you can’t go barging in on her – it ain’t done. You have to go through Mrs Dent.’

      Essie reached for her bonnet and shawl. ‘Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.’

      Essie knocked on the drawing-room door and waited impatiently. She had finished her work and was eager to get away from the stultifying atmosphere of the house in Hill Street, where the servants seemed to rule supreme, leaving Lady Alice vulnerable and alone. When there was no reply Essie opened the door and stepped inside, but the sight that met her eyes made her come to a halt. For a moment it was not clear if her ladyship was enjoying the advances of the man who held her in his arms, or if she was struggling to get free.

      ‘Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry.’ Essie was about to retreat, but a cry from Lady Alice made her stand her ground. ‘Are you all right, my lady?’

      ‘Give me that document, Henry.’ Lady Alice held out her hand. ‘Give it to me this instant. It has nothing to do with you.’

      He tossed at her. ‘Take it, Alice.’ He turned to Essie. ‘Who the devil are you?’ The man, who was dressed like a gentleman even if he was not behaving like one, advanced on Essie with a grim look on his handsome features. ‘How dare you burst into her ladyship’s drawing room like this? Get out of here.’

      ‘No, wait.’ Lady Alice clutched the piece of parchment in her hands. ‘Sir Henry was just leaving. I need to speak to you, Chapman.’ Her pale cheeks flushed with colour as she fixed him with a steady look. ‘You were mistaken in your assumption, Henry. I am not in the least bit interested in what you have to offer or your threat to expose my cousin.’

      ‘We’ll see about that, Alice.’

      ‘You have my answer, and now I want you to leave.’

      He bowed, but it was a mocking gesture. ‘My lady.’ He strode past Essie, giving her a thunderous look as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

      Essie rushed forward to support Lady Alice, who had paled suddenly and was swaying on her feet as if about to faint. ‘Are you all right, my lady?’

      ‘I just need a minute.’ Alice sank down on the sofa, fanning herself with her hand. ‘Sir Henry Bearwood is not the sort of man to cross.’

      ‘Men are all the same, if you ask me,’ Essie said boldly. ‘Diggory Tyce is another one. They think they can take liberties and get away with it.’

      ‘Quite so,’ Lady Alice said vaguely. ‘But this is quite different.’ She raised her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes as if in pain.

      Essie glanced around and spotted a table laden with decanters and crystal glasses. This seemed to be the right time for a tot of something stronger than tea, and she picked one at random, pulled out the stopper and sniffed. Pa only drank brandy on special occasions, but this was purely medicinal and she poured a small measure into a goblet and pressed it into Lady Alice’s cold hand. ‘Sip this, ma’am. It will make you feel better.’

      ‘Thank you, Essie. I’ll be fine in a moment. He caught me unawares, and unfortunately he saw the paper from the solicitor’s office.’ Lady Alice sipped the brandy and colour flooded her thin cheeks. ‘I don’t know how much he read, but it was enough to alert him to the fact that Raven is in the country. If only I’d had the sense to set light to it and turn it to ash.’

      ‘He had no right to read your private correspondence,