Sarah Mallory

The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides


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ma’am, I’m didn’t mean to disturb you, but Mrs Green says its time I brought up your hot water and made you ready to go down to dinner—’

      ‘That is quite all right.’ Lucy sat up, stretching. ‘You are to be my maid, I take it?’

      ‘Aye, ma’am—miss.’

      ‘And who is Mrs Green?’

      ‘The housekeeper, miss. She sent me up.’ The young girl put down the heavy jug on the wash stand and bobbed a curtsey. ‘And I am Ruthie, miss, if you please.’

      ‘Well, Ruthie, perhaps you would help me out of this gown.’ Lucy slid off the bed. ‘I am afraid it is sadly crumpled and not a little grubby. I have been travelling in it for days.’

      ‘I know, miss. From London,’ said Ruthie triumphantly as she unfastened Lucy’s travelling dress and laid it over a chair. ‘Everyone’s that pleased to see you. Mrs Green says the house has been too long without a mistress.’

      ‘Oh, but I am not—’

      Lucy’s involuntary exclamation had the effect of making the maid jump back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

      ‘Ooh, miss, I’m that sorry, I forgot we wasn’t meant to say anything!’

      Lucy gazed in some dismay at the maid’s woebegone face. So word had spread, just as Adversane had planned. She nodded and said gently, ‘Well, do not mention it again. Now, I think I saw my green gown in the press, perhaps you will lay that out for me.’

      It was her only evening gown, a plain robe of French cambric with puff sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy thought it would look very dull against the splendid interiors of the house, but it was all she had and it would have to do.

      * * *

      Lucy found her new maid very willing and eager to help. Ruthie carried away Lucy’s travelling gown and half-boots, promising to clean them up as good as new, then came hurrying back, determined to help Lucy to dress for dinner. Her enthusiasm was endearing, but Lucy was a little reluctant to let her do more than brush out her hair.

      ‘Oh, but I can do it, miss,’ said Ruthie, as Lucy sat before the looking glass. ‘Lady Adversane’s maid showed me how to dress hair in several styles. O’course that were a couple of years ago now, but I’m sure I can remember.’

      Lucy glanced at the little clock. There was plenty of time to brush it all out and start again, if necessary.

      ‘Very well, let us see what you can do,’ she said, smiling. ‘All I wish this evening is for you to put it up in a simple knot.’

      Ruthie’s face fell. ‘No ringlets, miss?’

      ‘No ringlets.’

      The young maid looked a little disappointed, but she set about her task with a will.

      ‘You were training to be a lady’s maid?’ asked Lucy as Ruthie concentrated on unpinning and brushing out each shining lock.

      ‘Oh, aye, miss, I was. Lady Adversane’s maid broke her arm, you see, so Mrs Green sent me up to help her.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘Oh, my lady was so pretty, with her golden curls and blue, blue eyes, like the china doll they keep in the nursery! It was such a pleasure to dress her. I learned such a lot from Miss Crimplesham, too—that was my lady’s maid, you see—she was a tough old stick, and all the servants was a bit in awe of her, even Mrs Green, but she wasn’t so bad when you got to know her, and so devoted to my lady.’

      She paused to look at the honey-brown curls that cascaded over Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy knew she should reprimand the maid for chattering, but she was amused by her artless talk and besides, for one accustomed to looking after herself, it was so very pleasant merely to sit quietly and have someone fuss over her.

      ‘I was hoping that my lady would give me a reference,’ Ruthie continued, beginning to gather up the heavy locks again. ‘So I could become a proper lady’s maid, but then of course there were that terrible accident.’

      ‘Accident?’ Lucy met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. ‘You mean Lady Adversane?’

      ‘Yes, miss. She fell to her death, from Druids Rock.’

      ‘Oh, heavens.’

      Lucy had been wondering how Lady Adversane had died. She had decided she would ask Mrs Dean at some point, for she did not think she would be able to pluck up the courage to ask Lord Adversane.

      She said slowly, ‘How tragic. When did it happen?’

      ‘Two years ago, on Midsummer’s Eve.’ Ruthie nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Oh, ’twas perfectly dreadful, miss! They found her the next morning, dashed to pieces at the foot of the crag. I thought they’d all blame me, at first, for letting her go out alone, You see, I’d fallen asleep in my chair waiting for her to come up to bed.’

      ‘I am sure it was in no way your fault,’ Lucy told her.

      ‘No, that’s what Miss Crimplesham said. In fact, she was more inclined to blame herself. In a dreadful state she was, crying and saying she should’ve waited up for her mistress, but how could she undress her with her broken arm? No, we had a house full of guests, you see, and that night the players had come up from Ingleston to perform, and then after supper there was dancing far into the night, so it was very late before everyone went to bed. Only my lady didn’t come upstairs but went off to see the sunrise, as she often did. Only this time she didn’t wait to change her shoes and her thin little slippers wouldn’t grip on the rock and she slipped and fell to her death.’ The youthful face reflected in the mirror looked sad for a moment, then brightened. ‘And now you’re here, perhaps you’ll keep me on as your maid, miss.’ Ruthie placed the final pin into the topknot and stood back to cast a last, critical look at her handiwork. ‘I’m sure I can pick it up very quickly.’

      Lucy smiled. ‘Have you not learned enough yet, then?’

      ‘Oh, no, not by a long chalk. Miss Crimplesham said it would be months before I had learned enough to even think of offering myself as lady’s maid. She’d started as my lady’s nurse—called her “my baby”, she did—and had spent years learning how to look after her, so even if Lady Adversane hadn’t been dashed to pieces that night it wouldn’t have done no good, for there wouldn’t be time for Miss Crimplesham to teach me everything before they went away.’ Lucy might have thought nothing of this artless speech, if Ruthie hadn’t dropped her hairbrush and stared aghast into the mirror. ‘Ooh, miss, I shouldn’t’ve said that. No one was meant to know. My lady said it was a secret.’

      Lucy held her eyes in the mirror.

      ‘Are you saying,’ she spoke slowly, carefully, ‘that Lady Adversane was planning to...to run away?’

      ‘Yes—no!’ Ruthie’s face crumpled. ‘Miss Crimplesham said I wasn’t to tell no one. She was that angry when she found out my lady had let it slip. Said I should be turned off if I breathed a word of it, and I haven’t, miss. I haven’t said nothing until today, but I got so carried away, pinning up your hair and enjoying myself so much that it just came out.’ As Lucy swivelled around on the stool to face her, the girl fell to her knees, sobbing. ‘Pray, don’t tell the master, miss! He’ll be so angry that he’ll turn me off for sure. I’ll be sent off without a character and I’ll never get another position, not even as scullery maid!’

      ‘I promise I shall not tell anyone,’ Lucy assured her. She handed the maid one of her own handkerchiefs and bade her dry her eyes. It behoved her now to send the girl away, but instead she said quietly, ‘It was an arranged marriage, perhaps.’

      ‘Yes.’ The muffled affirmative was followed by Ruthie blowing her nose very loudly. ‘Only M-Miss Crimplesham said her mistress was very unhappy. And once my lady had determined to run away then she had no choice but to go with her, to look after her.’ Lucy’s thoughts raced, and as if reading them Ruthie continued. ‘My lady never loved the master—well, who could? He is so stern and cold, and when he’s