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‘You jogged his hand,’ Aurelia said calmly. ‘You weren’t paying attention, Mrs Fothergill, and now the poor young man is in trouble because of your carelessness. It won’t do, and I shall tell Dashwood so.’
Lottie held her breath, looking from one to the other, although she had no doubt who would win this contest of wills, and Mrs Fothergill seemed to have come to a similar conclusion. She tossed her head and marched towards the outer door. ‘I think I heard the carriage approaching. Come along, Cole. Don’t dawdle.’
Maggie snatched Mrs Fothergill’s cape from its peg and followed her, pausing to turn her head and wink at Lottie before going outside.
‘Well, then, you can put the plate down now, Lottie,’ Aurelia said casually. ‘Poor Perks was in a state of agitated nerves and I think I know whom to blame for that.’ She held up her hand. ‘It’s all right, I’m well aware of Miss Cole’s antics, and if her mistress knew the half of it she would sack the woman on the spot. Don’t allow her to lead you astray.’
‘No, my lady.’ Lottie put the plate on one of the stools. ‘Are we leaving now?’
‘Yes, I’ve had enough chitchat for one evening, and Mrs Fothergill’s unfortunate accident gave me the opportunity to slip away.’ Aurelia beckoned to Gideon, who was standing by the door. ‘Private Ellis, you may see us home.’
Gideon snapped to attention. ‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Miss Lane is new to army life and I shall charge you with the responsibility of showing her around.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Gideon held the door open for them. ‘It will be my pleasure.’
‘Not too much pleasure, I hope.’ Aurelia tapped him on the arm with her fan. ‘You’ll be leaving soon for the Crimea, Private Ellis. Just remember that.’
‘I will, my lady.’
‘Your cloak, my lady.’ Lottie hurried after her, but Aurelia dismissed the offer with a wave of her hand.
‘It’s a lovely warm evening. I don’t need it.’ She walked on slowly, leaving Lottie and Gideon to follow at a discreet distance.
‘Is it always like this?’ Lottie whispered.
He nodded. ‘Yes, and worse. This was a quiet evening compared to some.’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Miss Cole has a certain reputation in camp, Lottie. I wouldn’t get too friendly with her if I were you.’
‘Thank you for your concern, but you are not me, and I am perfectly capable of choosing my own friends.’ Lottie quickened her pace. ‘I’m not a schoolgirl, Gideon. I’ve met all manner of people at the inn, and I can take care of myself.’
‘If you say so.’
She knew she had offended him, and deep down she was grateful for his concern, but it was really none of his business. They walked on in silence and Gideon left them outside the Dashwoods’ residence.
Tilda opened the door and Aurelia stepped into the entrance hall, acknowledging her with a smile. ‘Tell Cook that I’m hungry. Miss Lane would also like some supper.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Tilda sketched a curtsey and hurried off towards the baize door that separated upstairs from the servants’ domain below stairs.
‘Shall I go and help her?’ Lottie asked anxiously.
‘That’s not necessary. The servants are well aware of your position in the household. You answer to me and me alone.’ Aurelia took off her cloak and handed it to Lottie. ‘You were hard on that young man. You’ve obviously met him before tonight. Is there something I should know?’
‘Not really, my lady. Lieutenant Gillingham brought Private Ellis to the inn after he had an accident. He stayed with us for several days until he was well enough to return to duty.’
‘Ah, I see. So you nursed him back to health – a sure way to win a young man’s heart.’ Aurelia mounted the stairs, pausing to glance over her shoulder. ‘By the way, I’m inclined to agree with Private Ellis. Miss Cole has a reputation for being free with her favours, and is not the sort of person who would normally be employed as a lady’s maid.’
‘That might be said of me, my lady.’
‘True, but you are a completely different proposition from Miss Cole, who lives by her wits and has somehow convinced Mrs Fothergill of her worth. Anyway, I’m tired of the subject now. I want to take off my stays and enjoy my supper. You may have yours when I am comfortably settled in my room.’
It was almost an hour before Lottie was free to sit down to her meal in the kitchen, which was deserted except for Cissy, a small slavey who was mopping the floor. The girl, who could not have been more than eleven or twelve, was heavy-eyed and kept stopping to lean on the mop handle. Lottie could remember her first weeks at the inn, when she had been about the same age as Cissy, and her heart went out to the exhausted child. She rose from the table, leaving the pie and pickles half eaten.
‘Cissy, let me finish that for you.’
‘What?’ Cissy opened her eyes wide, and a look of fear crossed her small features. ‘Don’t tell Cook I wasn’t doing this proper.’
‘You are doing very well considering the fact that you’re half asleep.’ Lottie took the mop from her. ‘I’m good at this and I can finish it in half the time. Why don’t you take my place at the table and finish up the pie for me? I can’t eat it and it would be a shame to leave it for Lady Petunia. I think she’s fat enough already.’
Cissy hesitated, eyeing the pie and licking a dribble of spittle from the corner of her mouth. ‘Are you sure, miss?’
‘Certain sure.’ Lottie worked the mop energetically. ‘Eat up and then you can go to bed. Where do you sleep?’
Cissy had already crammed her mouth full of pie and rendered herself speechless. She jerked her head in the direction of a small corner at the far side of the range.
‘Well, at least it’s warm in winter, even if it’s a bit too cosy in summer.’ Lottie wrung the mop out and took the bucket into the scullery where she emptied it into the stone sink. ‘There you are, Cissy. If you’ve finished I’ll wash the dishes while you get ready for bed.’
‘No, really, miss. I can manage now. Ta for the grub.’
Lottie smiled. ‘All right, if you’re sure. Good night, Cissy. Sleep tight.’
‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite,’ Cissy added, giggling.
Lottie gave her a hug. ‘Get some sleep, nipper.’ She lit a candle and made her way through the silent corridors and up the back stairs, but as she reached the first floor she heard the creak of a floorboard and the patter of footsteps. She blew out the candle. It was an automatic response and it left her in deep shadow, but moonlight filtered through a window at the far end of the landing, and as she peeped round the corner she saw Lady Aurelia heading down the main staircase. She had left her mistress ready for bed, but now it seemed that Lady Aurelia had dressed herself and, judging by the speed of her descent, she was in a hurry.
It was none of her business, but curiosity got the better of her and Lottie followed Aurelia at a safe distance. She wondered if her ladyship was sleepwalking, but she seemed to have a definite purpose, and she unlocked the front door as stealthily as a burglar. She slipped outside, closing it softly behind her.
Lottie hesitated, wondering whether she ought to leave well alone and retire to bed, but she knew she would get little sleep and she followed her mistress, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. A gap between the buildings left her nowhere to hide, and she came to a halt in time to see a tall male figure emerge from a doorway.
Lady Aurelia ran straight into his arms.
Chapter Six (#ulink_3ec60b47-c479-5e63-85cd-d39184660921)
Lottie clamped her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise. She could not make out the identity of the man who was kissing her mistress, but he was an officer. Then the couple disappeared from view, leaving Lottie to come to terms with what she had just seen. She turned and retraced her steps. She had been dazzled by Lady Aurelia’s charm and beauty, but having married a much older man maybe it was inevitable that she would take a lover. Lottie had certainly witnessed all manner of goings-on during her time at the inn, and perhaps she was being naïve, but she had imagined that officers and their ladies would behave with honour and chivalry, like the knights of old she had read about in school. She entered the house quietly and went straight to her room.
Next morning she awakened early, half expecting to hear the sound of a post horn announcing the arrival of a mail coach, but the house was eerily silent. She was used to sharing her room with Ruth and May, with all the attendant muddle and chaotic mess of discarded stockings and torn petticoats strewn on the floor or hanging from the rafters. The foul city smells had seeped through gaps in the roof tiles, and had mingled with smoke from Ruth’s clay pipe and the cheap scent that May purchased in the market. It was all history now, but perhaps the strangest thing of all was the silence. There had never been a quiet moment at the inn; even in the middle of the night there would have been sounds coming from the stables, and from the street outside. Ruth snored and May often talked in her sleep, shouting out unintelligible words.
Lottie rose from her comfortable bed and had a wash in cold water. She dressed, put up her hair and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Cissy was only just waking up.
‘Oh lawks,’ she said, scrambling to her feet. ‘Is it that late? I’ll be in for a hiding if Cook comes down to find I ain’t lit the fire.’
‘I’m up early, so don’t panic.’ Lottie went to the range and riddled the ashes. ‘We’ll soon get this going.’
Cissy yawned and stretched. ‘I’ll fetch some water. I got to go outside and visit the privy anyway.’ She snatched up two buckets and headed for the scullery.
Lottie was left to make up the fire, and when she was satisfied that the flames had taken hold she left it and went out into the yard. Cissy passed her, slopping water over the cobblestones as she hefted the buckets into the house. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, miss. We’ll have a cup of tea.’
‘That will be nice, thank you.’ Lottie took deep breaths of the clean air, untainted by the stink of the Thames and the manufactories that lined its banks. She could hear the sound of a bugle call and the clatter of booted feet on the parade ground, but tall trees obscured the view of the barrack buildings. There was already a hint of approaching autumn in the air, with a faint blue mist caressing the treetops, and touches of gold and russet amongst the foliage. She had sensed feelings of tension mixed with excitement and apprehension in Gideon during his stay at The Swan, and it was hardly surprising. The men of the Corps of Royal Sappers and Miners were preparing to go to war, and some of them would not return. Perhaps that was why Lady Aurelia had risked her marriage and her reputation by a clandestine meeting with her lover …
‘Ho, ho, young lady. I see you are an early riser like myself.’ Colonel Dashwood emerged from the scullery carrying a bucket of vegetable peelings. ‘My wife never rises before ten o’clock, and often it will be much later.’
‘I didn’t know, sir. I am new to the duties of a lady’s maid.’
‘Then you can offer your services to Lady Petunia, just this once, of course.’ He uttered a deep belly laugh. ‘Here, take the bucket, and I’ll fetch the shovel. I don’t trust the gardeners to muck out thoroughly. Come with me – er – what’s your name? I forget.’
‘Lottie, sir. Lottie Lane.’
‘Well, Lane, you’ll do nicely. I can’t abide women who shrink at the sight of anything remotely agricultural. What d’you say to that?’
‘I’m used to living above a stable, sir. I’ve emptied countless chamber pots onto the dung heap in my time at the inn.’
‘Splendid. You’ll make an excellent trooper, Lane.’
‘Trooper, sir?’
Colonel Dashwood strode on towards the pigsty. ‘You’ll accompany my wife when she travels to the Crimea.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Did she mention it to you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
He came to a halt at the gate. ‘We’ll be leaving for Southampton in six or eight weeks, not sure exactly when, and this mustn’t go any further, Lane. D’you understand?’
Lottie nodded wordlessly. Lady Petunia poked her snout over the top of the gate, gazing at her with small beady eyes. ‘Good piggy,’ Lottie murmured automatically.
‘Scratch behind her ears, the old girl loves that.’ Colonel Dashwood opened the gate and slipped into the pen. ‘Fill the trough, Lane, and fetch me the wheelbarrow. We’ll soon have Lady Petunia’s boudoir as clean and sweet-smelling as that of my dear wife.’
Lottie had much to think about as she made her way back to the house, having done all she could to help Colonel Dashwood make Lady Petunia’s sty habitable for such a grand dame of the pig world. The knowledge that Lady Aurelia was having an affair with one of her husband’s underlings had made her feel uncomfortable. Colonel Dashwood might be a hard taskmaster to his men, but he was like a loving father to his pig, and as they worked together he had treated Lottie as an equal. The news that they would be leaving so soon for the Crimea had come as something of a shock, but she was ready for anything.
She arrived back in the kitchen to find Cook in the middle of preparing breakfast. Tilda was rushing about taking cutlery and crockery upstairs to the dining room, and Cissy was at her usual place at the scullery sink, washing the pots and pans.
‘Where’ve you been, Miss Lane?’ Cook demanded angrily. ‘Her ladyship’s been ringing the bell for the last ten minutes.’
Lottie glanced at the large, white-faced clock on the wall above the mantelshelf. ‘Oh dear, I didn’t realise I’d been gone so long.’
‘You got caught by the colonel,’ Tilda said, chuckling. ‘I can smell Lady Petunia.’
‘Go on up. Never mind stopping to change. You’ll have to explain to her ladyship.’ Cook pointed to the stairs. ‘You’ll learn, miss.’
‘I’m so sorry, my lady,’ Lottie said breathlessly. ‘I was up early and Colonel Dashwood asked me to help him clean out the pigsty.’
Aurelia’s golden hair spilled over her shoulders as she sat in bed propped up against a small mountain of pillows. ‘I might have guessed. Never go outside before eight o’clock or you’ll suffer a similar fate. My husband adores that animal and he’ll commandeer the first person he sees to help him.’ She wrinkled her small nose. ‘You’d best go and change before you help me dress. I can stand most things, but the smell of pig first thing in the morning is not one of them.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Lottie hesitated in the doorway. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got anything suitable to change into.’
Aurelia raised a delicate eyebrow. ‘Good heavens! Why not? You must have brought clothes with you from your last place of employment.’
‘They all reek of the taproom, my lady.’ Lottie hung her head. ‘I’m told they smell of tobacco and beer, but I was so accustomed to it that I never noticed.’
‘Oh, is that all? I’ve been subjected to far worse during my travels abroad, but I do object to farmyard odours in my boudoir. Go and change immediately.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Lottie opened the door, but again she hesitated. ‘Is it true that we will be leaving for the Crimea in a few weeks?’
‘Of course. I thought that was understood. Is there a problem, Lottie?’
‘No, my lady. I’ll be proud to follow you wherever you go.’
‘Excellent. But I can see that we will have to get you outfitted for the journey. Can you ride a horse?’
‘I don’t know, my lady. I’ve never tried.’
‘Then we must arrange for you to have lessons. We have so little time in which to prepare. Now, change your gown and then you can help me dress. I’m going riding with Lieutenant Gillingham this morning.’ Aurelia threw back the coverlet and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She paused, frowning thoughtfully. ‘This might be the ideal time for you to have your first lesson. I think I have an old habit packed away somewhere. Merriweather would have known where to put her hands on it, but I want you to find it and try it on. We must be close enough in size.’ She stood up and stretched. ‘I’ll ask Lieutenant Gillingham to detail a man to ride with you.’
Hansford had to be called upon to bring a brassbound trunk down from the attic, which he placed in a spare bedroom for Lottie and Tilda to unpack. A strong smell of lavender filled the air as the sprigs were disturbed, sending showers of tiny blue flowers onto the polished floorboards. Lottie almost forgot the reason for their search as they lifted the delicate fabrics and shook out the creases of silk afternoon gowns, sprigged muslins, and cool cottons. At the very bottom they discovered the cream sateen riding habit. The lavender seemed to have kept the moths at bay and the gown was as good as new.
‘I wonder if this will fit me.’ Lottie held it up against her. ‘Why would clothes like this have been put away and forgotten?’
‘That’s what the rich people do.’ Tilda scrambled to her feet with a feather fan clutched in her hand. She strutted round the room, fanning herself and then stopping to peer over the top, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Look at me, I’m a titled lady at a ball and you’re a handsome gentleman.’
‘You are a silly-billy, Tilda,’ Lottie said, laughing. She cocked her head on one side, listening. ‘Someone’s coming. Quick, put the rest away or we’ll be in trouble.’
They had just folded the last gown and put it in place when Mrs Manners poked her head round the door. ‘What are you doing in here, Tilda? Get back to the kitchen at once.’
Lottie closed the lid of the trunk with a snap. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Manners. It’s my fault. Lady Aurelia wanted me to find her old riding habit and I asked Tilda to help.’
‘It’s not your place to give orders, Miss Lane. However, I’ll overlook it this time as you were both doing something for her ladyship.’ Mrs Manners shooed Tilda out of the door. ‘Get along with you. Do I have to tell you everything twice?’
‘No, Mrs Manners. Sorry, Mrs Manners.’ Tilda’s voice faded into the distance.
Left on her own, Lottie tried on the riding habit and was surprised to find that it fitted as if it had been made for her. She studied her reflection in the cheval mirror that stood in the corner of the room, and it seemed as though she was looking at a complete stranger. She lifted her hand and waved to make sure that her eyes were not playing tricks on her, and she smiled. The elegant young lady waved back and smiled. It seemed like a miracle – a maid of all work at the inn had suddenly been transformed into a lady. Her smile faded. She might be dressed up, but she was still Lottie Lane, a common girl from the tavern. She picked up the long, trailing skirts of the habit and made her way back to Lady Aurelia’s room.
‘You’ll do.’ Aurelia looked her up and down. ‘But you cannot go riding without a hat. I’m sure I must have one that will go with that habit.’ She moved gracefully to one of the cupboards, which lined an entire wall, and flung it open.
The sight of shelves filled with headwear of all shapes and sizes made Lottie catch her breath. This was one cupboard that she had yet to explore, but the colourful assortment of hats and bonnets decorated with flowers, bows and feathers was dazzling. Aurelia selected a small straw hat with a half veil. She tossed it to Lottie. ‘Try that one.’
Lottie attempted to balance it on top of her head, but it slid over one eye. ‘It’s too small, my lady.’
‘Nonsense.’ Aurelia snatched a pearl-headed hat-pin from her dressing table and advanced purposefully on Lottie. With a deft movement she thrust the pin into the straw and secured it through a loop of hair. ‘There you are. Perfect. Now come along, Lottie. I sent a note to Lieutenant Gillingham requesting him to find someone to give you a riding lesson. They’ll be waiting for us.’
Lieutenant Gillingham leaped to attention when Aurelia approached, closely followed by Lottie. ‘Good morning, my lady.’ He bowed from the waist. ‘A lovely day for a ride.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Aurelia said primly.
Lottie caught her breath as she realised that the soldier holding the reins of her mount was none other than Private Ellis.
Aurelia greeted him with a curt nod. ‘I take it that you will be instructing Miss Lane today, Private?’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Gideon stood stiffly to attention, staring straight ahead.
‘Excellent.’ Aurelia stepped onto the mounting block and arranged herself on the side-saddle. ‘Lead on, Gillingham.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘There’s no need to follow us, Private. Take Miss Lane on an easy route, as this is her first lesson.’ She flicked the reins. ‘Walk on.’
