The Lady's Maid (26 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

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Josie stared down at damp patches on the once perfect blue velvet and frowned. ‘This won’t do at all if I’m to impress Harry. I don’t want him to think I’m desperate.’

‘You look a treat, my dear,’ Nanny Barnes said, peering at her through the thick lenses of her spectacles. ‘I never thought that my little scamp would grow up to be such a lovely young woman.’

Josie preened herself in front of the fly-blown mirror
above
the mantelshelf. ‘I suppose I’ll pass muster. At least, I hope so for all our sakes.’

Kate tucked her hair into a snood and put on her bonnet, which was still soggy from last night’s rain. ‘You do know where Mr Challenor lives, don’t you, Josie? Have you ever been to his London house?’

‘No, but I’m not stupid. I took care to find out everything I needed to know about him, including the town house in Finsbury Circus and his office in Wapping.’

Kate was still not convinced. ‘But supposing he’s not at home?’

‘I’ll sit on the doorstep and wait until he returns,’ Josie said firmly. ‘Don’t forget, Kate. This is just a social call. He’s not to know that we haven’t come from Bedford House, so don’t you say a word. Keep in the background and let me do all the talking. If we don’t get an invitation to Copperstone Castle my name is not Josephine Marguerite Damerell.’

‘Well, good luck, dear,’ Nanny Barnes said gently. ‘You will be coming back tonight, I hope.’

Josie gave her a hug. ‘Of course we will, Nanny. I’m going to look after you properly from now on. There’ll be no talk of the workhouse. When I am mistress of Copperstone I will make sure that you are well cared for, and that’s a promise. Come, Kate.’ She swept out of the house with Kate following in her wake.

In order to save money they walked as far as they could before hailing a passing hansom cab. Even so, the cost of travelling in relative comfort to Finsbury Circus took an alarmingly large proportion of the remaining money in Josie’s purse.

‘He’d better be at home after all this expense,’ Josie muttered as she mounted the steps of the Georgian town house. A liveried footman opened the door to them. ‘Please inform Mr Challenor that Miss Damerell wishes to see him,’ Josie said with an imperious toss of her head.

‘I’m afraid you’ve just missed him, miss. Mr Challenor left for the country an hour ago, and is not expected to return to London for some weeks.’

Josie stared at him in disbelief. ‘That can’t be true. There must be some mistake.’

Bristling with affront, the footman shook his head. ‘There is no mistake. Good day, miss.’ He closed the door firmly in her face and Josie stood for a moment before turning to Kate, pale-faced and visibly shocked. ‘What on earth will we do now?’

Chapter Fifteen

THERE WAS NO
alternative other than to return to Hackney Terrace, but with dwindling resources they had to resort to public transport and a series of horse-drawn omnibus rides. Tired, hungry and emotionally drained, Kate settled Josie in a chair by the fire in Nanny Barnes’ living room.

‘This is so exciting,’ Nanny Barnes said, clapping her hands. ‘To have both of you staying here is more than I could have wished for. I do hope the order from Fortnum’s arrives in time for tea. I’m so looking forward to cucumber sandwiches and walnut cake.’

Josie frowned. ‘Nanny, you know that’s just wishful thinking, don’t you?’

‘No, dear. They will come. I wait for them every day, but sometimes I’m afraid they must deliver to the wrong house.’ Her bottom lip trembled and she sank down on the nearest chair. ‘I do so love walnut cake.’

Kate patted her on the shoulder. ‘Perhaps I’d better go out and see if I can find the delivery van, Miss Barnes. Then we can have tea by the fire.’

‘That would be nice, dear. Ring for the tweeny, Josie. We need more coal, and tell her to fetch another candle. It will be dark soon.’

Josie met Kate’s worried glance with a wry smile. ‘Yes, Nanny. I’ll do that in a minute.’

Nanny Barnes shook her finger at her. ‘What have I told you about procrastination, Josephine?’

‘It’s the thief of time, Nanny.’

‘Quite so. Now where was I?’

Kate picked up Josie’s purse. She knew to the last farthing how much was left and it would not stretch to walnut cake and cucumber sandwiches. A quick glance out of the window made her reluctant to go out again. The wind was whipping up eddies of straw, dead leaves and bits of detritus that had drifted into the gutters. Raindrops trickled down the windowpanes, leaving sooty marks like tearstains on the grimy glass. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped her cloak around her shoulders and reached for her bonnet. ‘I’ll go out and get something for supper, Josie.’

‘Yes, please do; I’m starving. And fetch a bag of coal too.’

‘Yes, miss.’ Kate pulled a face, receiving an apologetic smile from Josie.

‘It’s Miss Josephine to you, Kate,’ Nanny said severely. ‘We mustn’t forget our place, must we?’

‘No, Miss Barnes.’ Kate made her escape. Outside it was bitterly cold and the rain had turned to sleet. They were in desperate need of coal and kindling, and a foray into Nanny’s cupboard had revealed a distinct lack of candles and vestas. Quite how the old lady had managed to survive all this time on her own was beyond Kate, but now the responsibility of looking after Nanny Barnes and Josie had fallen on her
shoulders
. She quickened her pace. It would be dark in an hour or so and she did not want to risk another mugging. They were in enough trouble without losing the small sum of money in her purse, and with Josie’s plan of enlisting Harry’s help dashed they were in a pretty pickle, as Pa would say. A wave of homesickness washed over her as she walked along the street lined with pawnshops, pubs and bawdy houses. Slatterns loitered in doorways and their ragged, barefoot children clung to their skirts or hung about waiting to dip into pockets of unwary passers-by. Kate was up to their tricks and she clutched the purse beneath her cloak, glaring at the urchins if they came too close. Dealing with youngsters under the age of ten was one thing, but she knew enough to avoid confrontation with the older boys and the grown men who leered at her and made suggestive remarks.

She stopped outside a pawnshop and on an impulse went inside. She came out minutes later, half a crown richer but bareheaded. The bonnet that Josie had bought her in Dorchester had seen better days but it was still finer than anything displayed in the pop-shop window. She spent the money on a few necessities, tipping the shop boy a penny for delivering the small bag of coal to the house together with bundles of kindling. The rest of her purchases she carried in a battered rush basket, found at the bottom of a pile of junk in the pop-shop for which she paid only a farthing. On the way back to the house she bought three baked potatoes and a bunch of watercress from a street vendor, which they ate for supper washed down with hot sweet tea.

Kate was still hungry when she lay down on the floor beside Josie that night. ‘What are we going to do now?’

Josie raised herself on one elbow, staring into the fire. ‘I’m not going home, that’s for certain. I suppose I could throw myself on the mercy of John Hardy, that nice vicar who took us in after the accident.’

‘You don’t mean that?’

‘Why not? He was rather taken with me, as I recall.’

‘Josie, you’re shameless.’

‘I’m desperate, Kate. I can’t go on living like this with poor old Nanny, whose mind is wandering. Another few days in this place and I might go mad myself.’

‘You’re not serious about renewing your acquaintance with the Reverend, are you?’

‘It’s the only solution that comes to mind. I can hardly turn up at Copperstone on the pretext that I was passing and decided to drop in.’

‘Why not? You were prepared to do that in London.’

‘That’s quite different. I would have been paying a social call on an equal footing if I’d been living in Bedford Square, or pretending to. I would have to receive an invitation to Copperstone, and that’s out of the question now.’ Josie threw herself down on the rag rug, groaning. ‘What a ghastly muddle. I’m afraid it’s the vicar or dying of starvation in this hovel.’

‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Kate sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. ‘We haven’t got the money for the train fare. We’ve just about sufficient to buy a loaf of bread for breakfast and not a penny more.’

Josie opened her eyes, staring up at Kate. ‘Really?
I
thought you sold your bonnet. That cost a guinea when new.’

‘And it fetched half a crown in the pawnshop. I was lucky to get that.’

‘I wish I’d packed one of my ball gowns. As it is I suppose I could get some money for some of my clothes. We could sell them and then we’d have enough money to get to Dorset. Maybe even enough to hire a carriage and pair.’

‘And what would you wear? You could hardly arrive looking like me, for instance.’

‘Heavens no. What a thought.’ Josie turned on her side. ‘I’m exhausted. I’ll think of something in the morning.’

Kate lay down, but sleep evaded her. She could hear Josie’s rhythmic breathing and she marvelled at her friend’s ability to ignore what to most people would be pressing problems. She herself was only too well aware of their desperate situation. The sensible solution for both of them would be to return home. Josie might not relish living under the same roof as her profligate uncle, but she had very little choice. As to her own situation, Kate knew she must face the inevitable. She would have to suffer her father’s wrath and live with Honoria’s whims and tempers, or she could accept Squire Westwood’s offer of a position as companion to his daughters. Neither prospect filled her with enthusiasm, but at least she had come to terms with the fact that Harry was not for her – almost. She huddled down, pulling the blanket up to her chin. At least she had a proper bed at home. The hard floor beneath her was
a
constant reminder of their sorry plight. The chill penetrated her bones, making sleep seem like a welcome escape, but it eluded her until she was finally overcome by mental and physical exhaustion.

Next morning she awoke early, determined to make Josie see sense. She stretched her cramped limbs, stifling a groan as every muscle in her body ached. Josie was still sleeping soundly. Kate scrambled to her feet and set about the business of clearing the grate and lighting a fire. She went out into the yard and filled the kettle at the pump, returning to hang it on a hook over the flames. Whilst waiting for it to boil she took stock of their supplies, which were meagre enough for one person let alone three. A heel of cheese, half a loaf of bread and a tiny pat of butter were all the food they had, and perhaps enough tea to last until evening, so long as the leaves were dried and reused. She checked Josie’s purse and tipped out the copper coins – tuppence three farthings would not go far. She glanced at Josie’s sleeping form and sighed. Josie was noted for her stubbornness, but surely even she must see that their situation was hopeless.

Kate looked up as the door to the narrow staircase opened and Nanny Barnes appeared, still wearing her nightgown with her hair tied up in rags. ‘Today is the day I have luncheon with Miss Spalding who lives in a big house in Cassland Crescent,’ she announced with a triumphant smile. ‘She was lady’s maid to a very important personage, and they look after her extremely well.’

Kate slipped the coins back in the purse. ‘Why
don’t
you sit down, Miss Barnes? I’ve made a pot of tea.’

‘That would be lovely, dear. But as soon as breakfast is over I’d like you to help me dress. I have to look my very best when I visit Miss Spalding.’

‘Of course,’ Kate said, pouring tea into two cups. ‘Would you like some bread and butter?’

‘Oh, no, dear. I don’t want to spoil my appetite. Miss Spalding’s luncheons are always quite substantial. She has her own personal maid, you know.’

Thinking that this was one of Nanny’s flights of fancy, like having Fortnum’s deliver cucumber sandwiches and walnut cake, Kate nodded and smiled. Let the old lady keep her dreams; they were far nicer than the reality the poor soul must face every day of her life.

Josie yawned and sat up, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a lustrous velvet cape. ‘Tea, please, with two spoonfuls of sugar. I’m famished. Is there any toast?’

Nanny Barnes shook her finger at her. ‘Get up, you lazy girl. I see you haven’t mended your ways, Miss Josephine. You were always hard to rouse, even as a small child.’

Josie rose to her feet, stretching her arms above her head and smiling as though she had just risen from a feather bed. ‘I haven’t slept so well for months. Now what will we do today?’ She turned to Kate with an eager smile. ‘Have you thought of a plan?’

‘Plan? What plan?’ Nanny Barnes put her cup down on the saucer, staring at Josie in apparent amazement. ‘It’s my day for lunch with Miss Spalding. Naturally you
will
be included in the invitation. I’ll have living proof that I was nanny to a baronet’s daughter. Sometimes I think that Millicent doesn’t believe me when I tell her about Bedford House and Damerell Manor.’

Kate dared not look at Josie. She knew if their eyes met they would both dissolve in a fit of giggles. It was small wonder that Miss Spalding did not believe Nanny’s tall tales, if she existed at all. Perhaps Millicent was also a figment of Nanny’s imagination.

‘Yes, Nanny,’ Josie said, helping herself to a cup of tea. ‘I would love to meet your friend.’ She winked at Kate. ‘But I expect you have better things to do today. We need to increase our funds. Have you thought of anything, Kate?’

‘We must find work. We can’t exist on air.’

‘Perhaps Miss Spalding might be able to help,’ Nanny Barnes said thoughtfully. ‘There are several retired gentlefolk living in the neighbouring houses; maybe one of them is in need of a maidservant.’

Humouring her, Kate and Josie went along with Nanny’s determination to put on her one and only best gown, and yellowed lace cap. At midday precisely they walked the short distance to the crescent where Nanny insisted that her friend had rooms in one of the large houses. Still in a state of disbelief, Kate and Josie followed her into the building and up a flight of stairs to the first floor. Nanny Barnes led the way down a long landing and was about to knock on a door at the far end when it opened and a young girl carrying a bundle wrapped in brown paper flew
out
. She paused, glaring at Nanny Barnes. ‘You’re welcome to the old bitch,’ she cried angrily. ‘That’s the last she’ll see of me. I’d rather starve in the gutter than work for her.’ She raced off, disappearing down the stairs with a clatter of booted feet on the bare treads.

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