The Lost And Found Girl (26 page)

‘I’ve no idea. I left that part of my life behind for Mother to handle. Mother couldn’t stand my wife so she took rooms at the Golden Lion in Settle and Beth stayed at High Fell.’

‘You left her to run the farm?’

‘Much of the land was leased out. Only a few outbuildings and the garden remained.’

‘But surely you haven’t left her out there alone all these years?’

‘Mrs Roberts looks after her.’

‘I should imagine it’s the other way round,’ Milo responded. ‘When did you last visit her?’

‘I don’t even ride over to Settle now that Mother has passed on. She used to write to me when she needed money and give me news from High Fell. Beth went quite mad, you know, but Mrs Roberts kept a lid on things.’

‘I don’t see how two women can make a go of a farm. How do they manage?’

‘How the hell should I know?’ Edgar responded. ‘The bank takes care of everything.’

‘Please don’t blaspheme in my house. My wife might hear you.’

‘I’m sorry, but you are asking me a lot of questions.’

‘I’m your friend, Edgar, and concerned for your reputation. I had a visit a couple of years ago from that shepherd you dismissed. I hardly recognised him. He’s made something of himself in trade.’

Edgar snorted. ‘What did he want?’

‘He was after an address for his daughter.’

‘So he’s admitted the truth at last.’

‘No, not exactly. He wanted to know what had happened to both infants.’

‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’

‘Of course I didn’t! I sent him away with a flea in his ear. But I heard from the church warden he’d been asking where I was before I came here. Have you ever visited Beth at High Fell?’

Edgar shrugged and grimaced. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to touch her. Not after she went with that shepherd.’ He noticed
Milo’s deepening frown. ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for what happened. How could you have known she would turn out to be a whore?’

Milo, clearly slighted by this apparent fault, got to his feet with a stern expression on his face. He towered over Edgar and retaliated, ‘I suppose Mrs Wortley isn’t!’

Edgar became more agitated and stood up to challenge him. ‘Now look here, old boy. Mrs Wortley is different. I love her.’

They were about the same height and eyed each other warily. Milo answered firmly. ‘Well, I can’t visit you while you’re living with her as your mistress. You must see that.’

Edgar did and relented with a sigh. ‘Very well. I don’t wish to quarrel with you. I shall be living at the Abbey and you’ll be installed in the rectory before much longer anyway.’

Milo seemed relieved the disagreement had passed and nodded briefly. ‘Will you stay and eat dinner with us?’

‘Thank you, I’m much obliged.’

‘Just be careful what you say in front of my wife.’

‘Of course, old boy, of course.’

‘Higgins!’

Daisy dropped a bucket of coal with a clatter and stood up straight to ease her back. She seemed to spend all day and every day carrying coal to keep the servants’ fires going and her hands were permanently grimy. It was late afternoon and many of the servants had a couple of hours’ rest before their evening duties. She scurried to the attention of the under-housekeeper. Two older maids from Annie’s brigade were with her but there was no sign of Annie.

‘Higgins, go with these two for the rest of the day.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Where am I going?’ Her answer was an impatient clucking from the under-housekeeper.

‘Come on, Daisy. Annie’s told me what to do and I’ve done it before. We’ve to help out in the main scullery. Look sharp.’

‘Why us?’ she asked as she trotted after the older maids.

‘They’re rushed off their feet with all the visitors for the
shooting and there’s a dozen to cater for in the hunting lodge so some of the kitchen brigade are living over there.’

The main scullery had a large deal table covered in baskets of dirty crockery and a line of wooden sinks with cooking pots in every one. The older maid took charge and handed Daisy a couple of pails. ‘Draw the hot water and keep the fire going under the boiler. Once we’ve emptied the baskets, line them with fresh linen and stack the clean pots neatly inside them. Careful, mind, they’ve to go back to the Lodge and it is three miles on the provisions cart. In between time you can help Josie with the cooking pots in those sinks.’

When the last of the crockery baskets had been re-filled and taken away all three women were hot, wet and tired. Daisy’s face was flushed and her fingers were red and sore from the pot soda, but her nails were the cleanest they’d been for days.

‘Annie’s got some stuff for your hands,’ the older maid told her. ‘We’ve just the sinks and tables to scrub now, and the floor. You can do the flags, Daisy.’

Daisy’s task was nearly finished and she stood up to move to the next section of floor. The partitions between the various sections of the main kitchen were made of painted wood and glass with gaps instead of doors. She smelled the cigar smoke before she heard voices and looked through the glass in their direction. The chef in his floppy white hat had come out of his office as two gentlemen dressed for shooting hovered in the middle of the quarry-tiled kitchen.

Daisy stood quite still looking down at her hands folded across her very damp apron. She remembered Annie’s instructions well. A servant becomes invisible when one of the gentry walks past her: back against the wall and quiet as a mouse until they’ve gone. One of the gentlemen was
Mr Stanton, Lord Redfern’s steward. The other was Master James.

‘Jolly decent dinner last night, Chef,’ he said.

His companion was explaining to the chef, ‘Master James is keen to learn how all aspects of the estate function. ‘Lord Redfern has agreed to host a special celebration next month for Master James’s birthday.’

‘Ah,’ the chef replied, ‘for ze young gentleman, I prepare ze perfec’ feast.’

Daisy heard a suppressed giggle from behind her and sucked in her cheeks to quell a smile.

‘I want something spectacular to impress my friends.’ Daisy recognised James’s younger voice. ‘You know the thing, ice sculptures, Russian caviar, turtle soup, pineapples.’

‘Mais oui, sir. Eet will be my pleasure.’ The chef sounded as though he was sighing with delight and Daisy’s mouth twitched.

‘I’ll take a look around,’ James said and his boots clicked on the tiles.

Daisy kept her head down but forced her eyelids up until she could see him under her brow. He was walking towards the glass partition and open doorway. ‘What’s through here?’ he called.

‘Only the scullery, sir,’ Mr Stanton responded.

Master James came through the gap and Daisy swallowed, hoping he would not recognise her. It was bound to get back to the housekeeper if he did. She was out of luck. He stopped in front of her and said, ‘Here you are. Are you a scullery maid?’

Daisy truly did not want to get into any more trouble and stayed stock still and silent hoping one of the others would answer. But he prompted, ‘Well? I am speaking to you.’

She answered quickly without looking up. ‘No, sir, I mean, yes, sir, for today.’

A loud whisper came from behind her. ‘Curtsey!’ Oh yes, she must curtsey when speaking to one of the gentry. Awkwardly, she bent one knee and lifted her chin to say, ‘Beg pardon, sir.’

Mr Stanton loomed behind him. ‘If you wish to learn more about the servants’ duties, sir, I’ll arrange for the housekeeper to inform you. I think you should return to Lord Redfern’s guests now. Chef will send up menus for your approval.’

Master James turned down the corners of his mouth and rolled his eyes. Daisy pressed her lips together to stop herself laughing, but her eyes danced as he pulled a face and retreated.

Mr Stanton added, ‘His lordship would not want to hear that you have been speaking directly to the lower servants, sir.’

‘Then don’t tell him, Stanton.’

The chef returned to his office and the kitchen was empty again.

‘Get you, Daisy Higgins,’ the younger of the two other maids said. ‘You want to watch yourself with him. He’s got his eye on you.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she retaliated and picked up her scrubbing brush. But as she pushed the harsh bristles backwards and forwards she wondered if there was any truth in what the maid said. Daisy thought he was the most attractive man she had seen, especially when he was dressed for riding or shooting. Each time she had seen him he seemed to notice her too. He always had a word or expression for her to share and she, in return, felt in tune with his convictions. He appeared as attracted towards her as she was to him. Were they allowed
to speak to each other she was certain that they would easily find sentiments to share.

She could not deny that a thrill of excitement fizzed through her. He was a wealthy young gentleman who had shown an interest in her and for a few minutes she dreamed of herself walking out with him. She wondered what it was about him that made her so desperately want to hear his unspoken thoughts. She scrubbed away, ignoring the jibes and comments from the other maids. What a ridiculous notion! What would he want with her? Daisy pulled herself out of her daydream and wiped the suds from her arms.

A few weeks later, Boyd strolled through the village with Daisy after church and asked, ‘Do you know that man over there?’

‘Which one?’

‘He’s walking towards the inn.’

‘I can’t see his face.’

‘He seemed to be watching you in church. I was afraid he might be someone sent by Father.’

‘He won’t take me away, will he?’

‘I don’t know,’ Boyd frowned. ‘Are you behaving yourself?’

‘I’m trying my best.’

‘What work are you doing?’

‘Mainly I wait on the servants’ hall and keep it clean. But I’m called all over the place to fetch and carry. They have their own butcher here with a cellar full of brining tanks, and their own brewhouse. The game larder is bigger than the cottage we used to live in, and there must be an ice house somewhere because I saw an enormous block of it carried in on a cart yesterday. Where did that come from?’

‘It’s from underground on the edge of the copse next to Home Farm. I helped hack out that block of ice and it was like midwinter down there, I can tell you.’

‘Oh, poor you. Did you have gloves?’

‘Oh aye, the steward lent them to me, and thick socks and boots. He said the ice was for the chef to make cream ices for Master James’s birthday. He’s going to carve a swan out of the biggest chunk to sit in the centre of the table.’

‘Oooh, I’d like to see that.’

‘No chance, I’m afraid. But—’ he turned and beamed at her, ‘I shall be working in the Abbey stables because all the young folk are riding the day after and Mr Stanton wants a dozen ponies groomed and saddled for them.’

Boyd loved working with horses. Master James’s birthday party would give him a taste of what he would be giving up if he had to leave for her sake. She couldn’t let that happen. She said, ‘Annie says it’s a big house party and we’re having some village girls in to help. I’ve been thinking, Boyd. I’m going to ask them if there’s work in the village for after Christmas.’

‘Well, if there is, won’t they want it for themselves?’

‘Oh.’ Daisy hadn’t thought of that and her heart sank.

‘Don’t worry, little sister, as long as we stick together we’ll survive well enough. I’ve saved some money and we’ll find cheap lodgings until I get work.’ His face was solemn. ‘I might have to go down the pit, though.’

‘Oh, you can’t do that! I won’t let you do that!’

‘I won’t have any choice if we want a roof over our heads.’

‘But it’s dangerous. You’ll be killed or injured! I’ve heard about the accidents they have, roof falls, explosions and that. You’re not to go down the pit, Boyd. Promise me you won’t.’

‘I can’t, Daisy. I’d rather take that risk than see you in the workhouse.’

Daisy despaired. She wasn’t his little sister any longer and she had to pull her weight. ‘You haven’t said anything about going yet, have you? You’re in a good position here and you mustn’t leave. Not for me. I’ll find something somewhere. I promise I shall!’

Boyd shook his head. ‘You are not going anywhere without me, Daisy.’

He was so serious and – and sad, she thought, that she realised he truly did not want to turn down Mr Stanton’s offer of a position in the stables. She frowned. He was such a wonderful support to her, so capable, and bigger and stronger now from the labouring he had done since they had arrived. There must be some way of staying in the village. She didn’t mind what it was. She felt she could tackle any task when her beloved Boyd was near.

He went on. ‘Did you know Master James’s birthday is in the same month as yours?’

‘No! He’s older than me, though.’

‘He’s not. Mr Stanton told me. He just acts like it because he’s been brought up to be a lord. Anyway, I’m making you something special for your birthday.’

‘Oooh, what is it?’

‘It’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.’

She wanted to reach around his middle with her arms and hug him. But she knew he didn’t like her to do that any more. So she had to be content with conversation.

She reached up and twiddled with the free ends of his necktie. ‘Do you like your neckerchief?’ she asked. She had bought him a bright red one with black spots from the draper’s in the village and he wore it to church on Sundays so she could see him easily from a distance.

‘Very much, thank you.’

‘Are they new boots?’ she commented.

He kicked up one of his well-shod feet. ‘Mr Stanton gave them to me. My feet are the same size as his. He has two new pairs made every year for himself.’

‘Two pairs? Every year?’

‘Young Master James has six. He passes them on to the upper servants and some are not even worn because he grows out of them.’

Daisy let out a sigh. ‘Phew, his cordwainer must be well off,’ she breathed. The boot and shoe maker was not the only tradesman doing well in Redfern Village, Daisy thought. One of them must need another servant. She had to find something soon before Boyd told Mr Stanton he would not take the position.