Chaff upon the Wind (12 page)

Kitty grinned mischievously. ‘That’d be telling, miss, ’cos Mrs Grundy always ses we’re not supposed to have “followers”.’

Miriam laughed. ‘But you do anyway, eh?’

Kitty just smiled, a pink tinge to her cheeks, but already Miriam’s thoughts had turned back to herself. She leaned her elbows on the dressing table and cupped her chin in her hands,
staring at her own reflection. ‘I should like to be in love, but I don’t think I am with Guy.’

‘Well, I think he is with you, miss. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.’

Miriam flapped her hand. ‘Oh well, yes, I expect he is, but I can’t help it if I don’t feel the same way about him, can I?’

‘No, you can’t make yourself fall in love with someone,’ Kitty said and remembering Mrs Grundy’s warnings, she thought to herself, or make yourself
not
love
someone however ‘unsuitable’ you’re told they are.

‘Mm,’ Miriam murmured and then, with a rare, honest insight into her own character, she sighed and added, ‘but Guy’s too nice for me. I need someone strong, someone who
will master me, perhaps almost be a little cruel to me. Tall, dark and handsome, wouldn’t you say, but a bit of a rogue too?’

Suddenly, she jumped up, flinging Kitty’s ministering hands aside. ‘We’re going home tomorrow morning, Kitty. I’m bored here.’

Kitty’s eyes widened. ‘But what about Master Guy? He’ll be so disappointed. I’m sure he’s falling in love with you.’

‘Then it would be far better for me to go now before he gets really hurt.’

‘But miss, what will your mother say and – and your father?’

There was rebellion in the green eyes as the girl said, ‘I don’t care what they say. I’m not going to be rushed into marriage with someone I don’t love. Not even to
please them. And Guy will soon get over it.’

Kitty felt sorry for the kindly young man. It was a shame really. He was so right for Miriam. He would calm her and understand her moods and her tantrums, loving her all the time.

Kitty sighed. She knew exactly how he felt, for she was very much afraid that Threshing Jack did not love her as she loved him.

But she did not argue with her young mistress any more, for they were to return home two days earlier than expected and she would see Jack that much sooner.

‘Have you missed me then?’ she asked Jack pertly, resisting the urge to throw herself against him, wind her arms about his waist and press her face to his broad,
muscular chest.

She felt his strong arms go around her and he was picking her up and swinging her round. She laughed in delight and threw her head back to look up at him. Slowly he let her down to stand on the
ground, bending his head to kiss her lips as he did so. She returned his kiss, not caring who might see them in the broad light of day in the middle of the stackyard.

‘Course I’ve missed you,’ he said lightly and, with a deep-throated chuckle, added, ‘You and your cheeky face. Ya little sister’s not a patch on you, Kitty Clegg.
She’s a regular little scaredy-cat. A right misery, if ever there was one.’

Kitty leaned back against the circle of his arms to look up into his face. Playfully, she tapped his arm sharply, but she was grinning as she said, ‘I hope you ain’t been
makin’ a play for my sister. She’s only thirteen.’

Jack laughed but neither denied nor confirmed her suspicion. His only answer was to kiss her again and whisper, ‘Meet me tonight.’

‘Oh Jack,’ she murmured ecstatically, ‘I can’t wait.’

‘D’ya – you – know, Mrs G.,’ Kitty said. She was trying valiantly to iron out some of the roughness from her speech, now that she considered she
was moving in better circles. Well, employed in them at least. ‘I’ve never seen so many servants in me – my – life as they’ve got at the Hall. And all to look after
only two men. It’s us needs more help here. Why haven’t we got a few more servants? It’d be a lot easier on everybody if we had.’

Mrs Grundy sniffed. ‘There was more of us in the old days when old Mr and Mrs Franklin were alive. They’d turn in their graves if they could see this place now and how the master has
gone through any inheritance they left him. Eh, Kitty, the tales I could tell you, if I’d half a mind . . .’

‘Well, go on then, tell me. You know a secret’s safe with me. I’m no gossip.’

The cook laughed. ‘And just what do you suppose we’d be doing if I was to tell you, eh? Gossiping ourselves, wouldn’t we?’

Kitty grinned impishly, the dimples deepening in her cheeks. ‘Oh, go on, Mrs G. You sit down there and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and just for once in our lives we’ll have
a good old gossip.’

Moments later, when she handed Mrs Grundy a steaming cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit from the tin, Kitty asked, ‘How long have you worked here, Mrs G.?’

‘I started here as cook when I was about twenty-five. That was when the old master and mistress were still alive, of course,’ she said, neatly avoiding giving her actual age away.
‘The present master was about – let me think – about nineteen and he’d started his wild ways then.’

Kitty longed to press her further but knowing such a question as What wild ways? would make the cook clamp her lips tightly shut, she said nothing, letting Mrs Grundy drink her tea and
ramble.

‘The old master was a lovely old boy but the mistress, she was a tartar. They’d come up, you see, from what we’d call the labouring class to middle class and them’s
always the worst. Now the present mistress,
our
Mrs Franklin . . .’ the cook’s face beamed with genuine fondness, ‘she was born into class. Came from a very genteel family,
but, in a way, she married beneath her. They say her father lost all his money through no fault of his own and the family lived in very reduced circumstances.’

‘Was it what they call an arranged marriage, then?’ Kitty put in.

‘I expect so. Master Henry was wild and there were one or two scandals . . .’ She stopped suddenly, cleared her throat and hurried on, ‘Anyway, they were married and came to
live here too. Us servants were run off our feet in them days. It was like having two households to look after.’

‘Did the old master and mistress only have the one son, then? Mr Henry?’

‘No. I was told there’d been two other little boys but they’d died in childhood, always sickly little things they were, so I understand. But that was all before I came to work
here.’

Kitty was silent, wondering if poor Master Edward suffered from similar delicate health to his long-dead uncles. She shuddered. She liked Master Edward, she didn’t want anything to happen
to him.

‘It’s funny, ain’t it?’ Mrs Grundy was saying. ‘I remember the old boy dying. He was only ill for a little while and none of us even realized he was that bad. He
never complained and always thanked us so politely when we waited on him and then, suddenly, we heard one morning he’d just died in his sleep.’ Mrs Grundy shook her head. ‘Just
like that. Eh, but he were a nice old boy.’

‘And when did the old lady die, then?’

‘Only about five years ago. And that were very different, had us running after her from morning till night and then her bell would go in the middle of the night an’ all. They hired a
trained nurse, well, several actually, ’cos none of ’em stayed long.’

Kitty laughed. ‘Sounds very much as if Miss Miriam takes after her.’

‘Oh she does, believe you me, she does. She had a fine temper, did old Mrs Franklin. Her son’s got it and so has her granddaughter.’ The cook looked sharply at Kitty.
‘How are you getting on with her then? Are you managing?’

Kitty chuckled. ‘Oh yes, I can handle Miss Miriam. I stand up to her and though she threatens to sack me and all sorts, I think underneath all that, she actually respects me for
it.’

Mrs Grundy sniffed and began to lever herself up. ‘Well, I’d best be getting on if they’re to get any dinner tonight. Now, where’s that young Milly got to? Drat the girl.
She’s not a patch on you, Kitty, even though she’s your sister, so if Miss Miriam does ever give you the push, you can come back to me kitchen in a flash.’

Touched by the woman’s brusque compliment, Kitty planted a swift kiss on her cheek. ‘Ta, Mrs G, but now I’ve gone up in the world . . .’

‘Now then,’ the pudgy fingers wagged in her face. ‘Don’t you go getting ideas above your station, me girl. Else it’ll all end in tears.’

Kitty gave her a swift hug and skipped lightly across the flagstone floor to the door leading upstairs. ‘Fat chance while I work here, eh Mrs G.?’

‘Why, you cheeky young . . .’ the cook began, but Kitty was gone, running up the stairs. Faintly behind her she heard Mrs Grundy’s laughter and Kitty smiled to herself. One
day, she promised herself, I’ll find out just what the master’s ‘scandals’ were in his misspent youth.

‘Kitty? Kitty – is that you?

She groaned aloud as Edward’s voice came thinly through the closed door. Sighing, she set down the dustpan and brush she was carrying and opened his door. Her glance went immediately
towards the bed but, to her surprise, it was empty. The covers were thrown back carelessly and the sheets rumpled.

Her gaze swivelled and she saw him sitting near the window overlooking the back garden. She clapped her hands in delight. ‘Oh Master Edward, you’re up – and dressed too. I
am
glad.’

The light from the window was behind him as he looked towards her, but as she drew closer to him, she saw that a faint flush coloured his face. He patted the seat beside him. ‘Come and sit
down.’

‘I can’t, Master Edward. I’ve work to do and . . .’

‘Please? Just for a moment. And it’s Teddy. Remember?’

She smiled weakly and sat on the edge of the seat, darting anxious glances towards the door. Since their return to the Manor House, Kitty had waited in trepidation for either Mrs Grundy or,
worse, Mrs Franklin to reprimand her for her impudent behaviour while a guest at the Hall.

Not for one moment did she regret standing up to the odious housekeeper, but she did not want to lose her position as lady’s maid and worse still, she did not want to be sent away from the
Manor while Jack Thorndyke continued to return every night to the loft above the stables.

She felt Edward’s gaze upon her and she turned to look into his pale face.

‘I – I missed you,’ he stammered.

Now she smiled broadly at him, genuinely delighted to see him out of bed. ‘How’ve you been?’

‘Better,’ his smile widened. ‘I had to be up by the time you came home, didn’t I? I promised.’

She nodded. ‘Yes. And tomorrow – downstairs, eh?’

His face clouded. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’

‘Do try,’ she urged him. ‘Your mother would be so pleased.’

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘My
mother
would be.’

Had she imagined it, or had he put a slight accent on the word ‘mother’?

‘And Miss Miriam,’ she tried to encourage him.

His face brightened again. ‘She’s come home too, then?’

When Kitty nodded, he said, ‘Well, in that case, I might try. In fact, yes, I’ll come down to dinner tonight.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Kitty said, standing up. ‘Now, I really must get on, else I’ll get the sack.’

She gave a start of surprise as his bony hand, white and slightly clammy to the touch, reached out suddenly and grabbed her rough, calloused fingers. They were the clean, soft hands of an
invalid, not grubby like the hands of her active, healthy brothers. ‘Oh Kitty,’ he said softly, his blue eyes looking up into her face. ‘I would never let them do that to you, not
– not if I could stop it.’

Touched by his obvious feeling for her well-being, Kitty patted his hand reassuringly. ‘Don’t you worry. They’d have to throw me out bodily, and kicking and screamin’ at
that.’

Now the boy laughed and suddenly there was a flash of what a normal, healthy boy of fourteen should look like. ‘Oh Kitty, you are
wonderful
.’

Suddenly, she saw once more, as she had on the night of the harvest supper, the young man that Edward Franklin would one day be. As she left his room, Kitty was thoughtful. Her recent talk with
Miss Miriam about love and how it should feel, and the realization of her own growing passion for Jack Thorndyke despite all the dire warnings, had suddenly made her aware of something that perhaps
she should have seen before. Was Master Edward more than a little in love with her?

She sighed and picked up the dustpan and brush she had left outside his door. She hoped profoundly that it was nothing more than a boyish crush, for she felt deeply sorry for the delicate boy
and she would not want him to be hurt.

After all, she was only a maid within the household and he, one day, would be master of the Manor House.

‘What do I have to do exactly?’ Kitty demanded, her arms folded across her breasts. ‘I’ve never waited at table before. I don’t know where to
start.’

Mrs Grundy shrugged her plump shoulders. ‘You’ll have to try, Kitty, because Sarah’s got this dreadful cold and if she sniffles and sneezes around the master, he’ll
likely fly into one of his tempers.’

‘I don’t mind helping her with the cleaning, you know I don’t. But I don’t want to have to serve them. Can’t I just plonk the dishes down and tell ’em to help
theirsens?’

Mrs Grundy laughed till her chins wobbled. ‘You could, love, but you’d likely be out of a job by the morning.’

Kitty grinned back. ‘Well, I’ll do me best. Now, which way did you say? Serve from the left and clear from the right?’

Mrs Grundy’s brow creased. ‘I reckon so. Or is it t’other road round? I never can remember.’

‘Oh, you’re a big help, Mrs G.’

‘Don’t you worry. The master’ll soon tell you if you get it wrong.’

Kitty pulled a face at her. ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.’ But she went through to the dining room to view the table that Sarah had laid before taking herself off
to bed to nurse a streaming cold.

‘She spends more time up in that bed of hers than she spends out of it.’ It seemed to the healthy Kitty that the housemaid, Sarah, was always going down with one ailment or another.
But then, more charitably, she thought, maybe the girl can’t help it. Maybe she’s like poor Master Edward and catches anything going. At the thought of him, Kitty muttered, ‘Maybe
it’s just as well it’ll be me in the dining room tonight when he comes down for dinner, ’cos if he catches Sarah’s cold, he’ll be back in bed again before he’s
hardly out of it.’