The Swan Maid
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Hansford cleared his throat. ‘Lady Aurelia is in the drawing room, sir. Shall I tell her that you’ll be with her as soon as you’ve changed your clothes?’
‘Eh? What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?’
Lottie held the apple on the palm of her hand and Lady Petunia took it with surprising gentleness. ‘She has very good manners, Colonel.’
‘Of course she has. Lady Petunia is a thoroughbred, and better behaved than most of the nobility. I’d have her in the house, but Mrs Manners wouldn’t approve.’
‘I’d best get back to my work,’ Lottie said, hoping that the smell of the pigsty was not clinging to her garments. It was bad enough to know that she stank of the alehouse, without adding animal odours as well.
Colonel Dashwood’s blue eyes twinkled beneath his thick white eyebrows, which matched his bushy white moustache. He was obviously a good many years older than his wife – old enough, Lottie thought, to be her father – but despite his portly frame and weather-beaten features, he had a kindly expression. During her eight years at The Swan, Lottie had learned a great deal about human nature, and her instincts told her that here was a man she could trust. She even liked his pig.
‘I’ve laid out your uniform, Colonel,’ Hansford said tactfully. ‘You have a regimental dinner to attend this evening, if you recall, sir?’
‘Dash it, I’d quite forgotten.’ Colonel Dashwood patted Lady Petunia’s head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, old girl. I must leave you now.’ He followed Lottie from the sty. ‘Make sure you fasten the gate securely, Hansford. She got into the vegetable garden yesterday. Figgis was very upset.’
‘I will, don’t worry, sir.’ Hansford stayed back to make sure that Lady Petunia would not escape again, and Lottie followed the colonel into the house. To her surprise he retraced the route that Hansford had taken and entered through the scullery.
‘Where’s Hansford?’ he demanded, lowering himself onto a wooden stool. ‘I want him to help me off with my boots. Mrs Manners will have a fit of the vapours if I bring pig muck into the house.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Hansford? Where is the fellow?’
Lottie hesitated, wondering what was expected of her. It would not be the first time she had helped a gentleman off with his boots, but she was not at the inn now. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Hansford out in the yard, deep in conversation with Tilda. ‘Can I help you, sir?’
Colonel Dashwood puffed out his cheeks and his moustache bristled. ‘Where is Hansford? This isn’t a task for a slip of a girl like you.’
‘Let me try, sir. I see a lady in black bombazine coming this way. Could it be Mrs Manners?’
‘Pull off me boots, girl. What are you waiting for?’ Colonel Dashwood held up one chubby leg, turning red in the face with the effort.
Lottie grasped the toe and heel of the muddy boot, gave it a twist and a tweak and tugged hard. It slipped off as if the colonel’s foot had been greased. She used the same technique to pull off the other boot.
‘Well done,’ Colonel Dashwood said, wheezing a sigh of relief. ‘Hansford couldn’t have made a better job of it.’ He rose to his stockinged feet. ‘Take them into the boot-room. Hansford will clean them up.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Lottie slipped out into the yard just as Mrs Manners entered the scullery. She did not want to meet the housekeeper until she had had a chance to change, and she loitered outside until the sound of voices died away. She tried hard not to stare at Hansford and Tilda, who made an unlikely pair, and she looked up into the blue sky, watching the swifts dart and dive about like airborne acrobats.
Hansford turned his head to look at her. He broke off the conversation and strolled across the cobblestones, followed by Tilda. ‘I’ll see to them.’ He took the boots from Lottie. ‘You’d best clean yourself up too.’
‘You’ve got pig muck on your boots and the hem of your skirt.’ Tilda put her head on one side. ‘And your clothes smell something awful.’
‘I know. You don’t have to tell me.’
‘She’ll go mad,’ Tilda said, shaking her head. ‘Mrs Manners can’t stand slovenliness.’ She exchanged glances with Hansford. ‘Tell you what, Lottie, as you’re new here I’ll help you out this once. Leave your boots with Hansford, and I’ll find you a uniform to wear. You can sort your clothes out later.’
‘We have to keep Mrs Manners happy,’ Hansford added. ‘She’s a tartar when she’s roused.’
‘Why does the colonel keep her on?’ Lottie asked curiously. ‘Even he seems to be scared of her.’
‘Who knows?’ Hansford walked off towards the stables.
‘Come on.’ Tilda opened the scullery door. ‘We’ll get you something from the cupboard where Mrs Manners keeps the uniforms.’
The linen cupboard was situated at the end of a wide passage next to the housekeeper’s office. It appeared to be locked, but Tilda jiggled the door and it opened. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. ‘Hansford was meant to fix this, but it’s handy being able to get a clean uniform or apron without having to grovel to Mrs Manners.’ She selected a black cotton dress and held it up against Lottie. ‘That looks about your size. You can change in the broom cupboard. I’ll keep a lookout for Mrs M.’
Minutes later Lottie emerged from the stuffy cupboard. ‘It fits.’
‘I knew it would,’ Tilda said smugly. ‘You can wash your duds in the scullery when we’ve finished clearing away the supper things. They’ll dry overnight in the laundry room.’
‘Thank you.’ Lottie held out her hand, but Tilda ignored the friendly gesture.
‘I only done it to please Herbie. He seems to think you’ll be good for her ladyship. She led poor old Merriweather a real dance, I can tell you.’
‘Herbie?’ Lottie stared at her, confused.
‘Hansford to you. We’re stepping out together, in case you hadn’t noticed, so hands off.’
‘It’s a promise,’ Lottie said firmly. She could see that Tilda thought she had won a great battle, although it was hard to understand the attraction. Hansford was a good twenty years Tilda’s senior, and his best friend could not in all honesty call him good-looking, but Tilda seemed to think him a great prize.
‘That’s settled then, but don’t expect me to keep getting you out of trouble, because I got better things to do.’ Tilda stalked off towards the kitchen, leaving Lottie to find her own way back to Lady Aurelia’s bedroom, but as luck would have it she turned a corner and came face to face with Mrs Manners.
‘So you are the new lady’s maid.’ Ermintrude Manners looked her up and down. ‘I wasn’t consulted about your appointment.’
Lottie bobbed a curtsey, not knowing what to say or do in such circumstances. It was hardly her fault that the housekeeper had been overlooked.
‘I suppose you understand your duties while you are in this house?’
‘I think so, ma’am.’
‘You address me as Mrs Manners.’
‘Yes, Mrs Manners.’
‘That’s better.’ Mrs Manners frowned thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you will have Merriweather’s old room, although I am loath to surrender it to someone like you.’
‘I can sleep anywhere, Mrs Manners. I shared a room at The Swan; I don’t mind doing so again.’
Mrs Manners flinched visibly. ‘Yes, I heard that you’d been working in a common coaching inn. Well, we’ll have none of your lewd behaviour and bad language in this house, so be warned.’
‘I never swear and I don’t allow men to take liberties,’ Lottie said angrily. ‘I’m a respectable young woman.’
‘So you say, but what were you doing in such a place at all, I might ask?’ Mrs Manners held up her hand. ‘No, don’t answer that. Come with me and I’ll show you to your room. I just hope you will live up to your boast, Miss Lane.’
They climbed the back stairs to the top floor where Lottie discovered she was to have a room of her own. It was large enough for an iron bedstead, a deal chest of drawers, a washstand with a tiled top and splashback, and a small cupboard. The floorboards were scrubbed to snowy whiteness and rag rugs gave the room a homely atmosphere. A dormer window looked out over the front garden, with glimpses of the road between the beech trees. It was not beautiful like Lady Aurelia’s boudoir but it was airy and comfortable.
‘It is not what you are used to?’ Mrs Manners’ sharp voice brought Lottie back from a delightful dream of sleeping on her own for the first time in her life.
‘No, it’s far better than anything I have had before. It’s a delightful room.’
‘Delightful? I’d hardly put it like that. Anyway, it’s yours for the duration of your stay in Chatham, although I doubt if that will be for long.’ Ermintrude Manners was about to leave the room, but Lottie barred her way.
‘I don’t understand. Why do you say that?’
‘You don’t look the type who could stand the life of a camp follower, or the sights and sounds of the battlefield, with gunfire, and mangled bodies lying on the ground and soldiers dying in agony and calling out for their mothers.’
‘Have you ever been on a campaign, Mrs Manners?’
‘Certainly not, but I’ve heard the soldiers’ tales and I’m very glad that I live here, in this lovely house, where I am safe from such horrors. Think hard before you get involved with Lady Aurelia, Miss Lane. Think very hard.’
The mention of Lady Aurelia’s name brought Lottie back to the present with a start. She had almost forgotten that she had duties to perform other than making herself comfortable in her new quarters. ‘I should be unpacking Lady Aurelia’s cases,’ she said urgently.
‘So you should. I was wondering when you were going to remember why you are here.’ Mrs Manners moved a little closer to Lottie, sniffing the air. ‘I suggest you purchase some cologne, Miss Lane. You have a very distinctive odour, and it is not pleasant.’
‘Yes, Mrs Manners, I’ll do that, of course.’ Lottie backed out of the room. ‘Excuse me, ma’am. I have a lot to do.’
Chapter Five
Lottie had barely finished unpacking the large trunk when Lady Aurelia breezed into the room. ‘Heavens, did I bring all that luggage with me?’ She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I thought I brought only the bare essentials.’
‘I’m sorry, my lady. I would have been quicker, but I’m not entirely sure where everything goes.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Aurelia said airily. ‘I’m sure it will come in time, but for now I need you to find a suitable evening gown for me to wear. The regimental dinners are so tedious, but one must attend. I shall need you to accompany me, Lottie.’
‘What do I have to do, my lady?’
‘Very little. You take my cloak and wait for me in the anteroom. It’s only a short walk to the officers’ mess, and I usually make my escape from the proceedings when the ladies leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Between you and me I find the other wives a complete bore.’ Aurelia kicked off her shoes and threw herself down on the satin coverlet.
Lottie gazed at the gowns she had unpacked and laid out over the back of a chair. ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t know which one to pick.’
‘I feel crimson,’ Aurelia said lazily. ‘Magenta is my favourite colour. I intend to be a peacock amongst the dowdy hens.’
It was not hard to find the shimmering silk taffeta gown amongst the paler muslins and satins. Lottie held it up and the creases seemed to iron themselves out as if by magic. Bugle beads glistened on the bodice and she could imagine how it must look by candlelight. ‘It’s beautiful, my lady, but the waist is so small. I’m not sure I could fit into such a gown.’
‘Then it’s lucky you won’t have to.’ Aurelia snapped into a sitting position. ‘You’ll have to lace my stays tightly, or I might have a problem myself.’ She yawned and reclined once again amongst the embroidered pillows. ‘I won’t be able to eat a thing, so you must ask Cook to send a tray to my room when we return. She knows what I like. Wake me up at half-past six, Lottie. I think I’ll take a nap.’
When Lottie first arrived at the officers’ mess, she had not realised that the Dashwoods’ house was adjacent to the barracks. It was a warm evening and Aurelia refused to wear her cloak, leaving Lottie to carry it for her. Colonel Dashwood had changed into mess dress and applied a liberal amount of bay rum to his thinning hair and an additional splash of cologne, which left a perfumed trail in his wake as he escorted his beautiful wife into the building. Lady Aurelia had been less liberal with the scent bottle, but the sunlight played on her golden coronet of curls, and turned the beads on her bodice into molten glass. Her waist, accentuated by the swinging bell of her crimson skirts, was whittled away to a hand span, and her low décolletage was complemented by a ruby and diamond necklace with matching earrings. Lottie basked in her reflected glory. She felt a sense of pride, like an artist who had created a masterpiece for the rest of the world to admire and praise, and it did not matter that her own gown was plain and downright dowdy.
Lady Aurelia outshone all the other women present, and it amused Lottie to see them dragging their husbands into the mess hall in an attempt to keep them at a safe distance from temptation. The unattached officers paid their respects, bowing over Aurelia’s gloved hand while keeping a wary eye on her husband. She greeted them with a pleasant smile and a nod of her head, but her attitude changed subtly when Gillingham approached. Lottie noted with some surprise that her ladyship’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled as she held her hand out to him.
‘Ah, Gillingham,’ Colonel Dashwood said affably. ‘Be so good as to escort my wife to the table while I have a word with the major-general.’ He patted Aurelia on the arm. ‘I’ll join you in a moment, my dear. I need to speak to Fluffy.’
‘Of course, Dashwood. Take as long as you like. I’m in good hands with Farrell.’ Aurelia slipped her hand through the crook of Gillingham’s arm, and they walked off, chatting like old friends.
‘Fluffy?’ Lottie murmured, gazing at the gentleman in question whose mess dress was heavy with gold braid and his chest emblazoned with medals.
‘Major-General Frederick Fothergill, known to his friends as Fluffy.’
She turned to find herself looking into the smiling face of Private Ellis, although she barely recognised him in his smart uniform. His pallor had been replaced by a healthy glow and the ugly bruise on his forehead had already begun to fade.
‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon, although I hoped you might still be here.’
‘I certainly didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to see you again so soon, Lottie.’ He glanced at the velvet cloak she was holding. ‘How did you become involved with Lady Aurelia?’
‘You make it sound like a crime,’ she said, laughing. ‘She has taken me on as her personal maid. I’ve come up in the world from washing out chamber pots.’
He shook his head. ‘You might think differently if her ladyship decides to follow her husband to the Crimea. It’s no place for a woman.’
‘Miss Nightingale doesn’t think so.’
‘Miss Nightingale has no experience of warfare.’ Gideon glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a sharp command. ‘I’m on duty, Lottie. Are you going to wait here for her ladyship? These affairs can go on well into the small hours.’
‘I suppose so. She told me to wait, so I suppose I must.’
‘Private Ellis.’
The staccato bark of his sergeant made Gideon snap to attention. ‘I might see you in between courses.’ He marched into the mess hall and the door closed behind him.
Silence echoed round the anteroom and for a moment Lottie thought that she was alone, but a muffled cough behind her made her turn her head to see a woman wearing the severe black uniform of a lady’s maid. The woman crossed the floor to stand beside her. ‘I’m Maggie Cole, Mrs Fothergill’s maid. You must be standing in for Miss Merriweather.’
‘I’m her replacement – Lottie Lane. Miss Merriweather is remaining in Bath, so I’ve been told.’
‘Poor old thing. She struggled to keep up with her ladyship. Sometimes she’d look so tired you’d wonder how she managed to keep going, so I’m not surprised.’ Maggie put her head on one side. ‘Where did you work before this?’
Lottie hooked the cloak over one arm. ‘I should hang this up or it’ll get creased.’
‘Give it to me and I’ll do it for you.’ Maggie took the garment from Lottie and strolled over to a row of pegs hung with military caps and shakos. She took a couple down and draped them over the back of a chair. ‘That’ll do,’ she said, hanging the cloak on the empty pegs before returning to Lottie’s side. ‘We have to look out for our ladies. Never mind the men, they can sort themselves out.’
‘Do we have to stand here all evening?’ Lottie asked anxiously. ‘I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving.’
Maggie pulled up two stools, setting them close to the mess hall doors. ‘Leave it to me. I’m used to this game.’ She winked and nodded, turning her head as a door on the far side of the room opened and a procession of waiters marched towards the mess hall carrying silver serving dishes.
Maggie accosted the last one, a young fresh-faced private who looked pale and nervous. ‘Bring us a plate of food, love,’ she said, fluttering her lashes. ‘You wouldn’t see two lovely ladies go hungry, would you?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll get into trouble, miss.’
‘What’s your name, Private?’
‘Perks, miss.’
‘Your first name, Perks.’
His blush deepened. ‘I have to go, miss.’
Maggie clutched his sleeve. ‘You can tell me, Perks.’
‘Rodney, miss.’
‘A very nice name, Rodney. I’ll see that the major-general hears about it if anyone says anything untoward. Bring us a small plateful of something tasty, there’s a good fellow.’
He nodded and hurried into the mess hall just as the doors were about to close. Maggie turned to Lottie with a smug smile. ‘See! That’s how you do it. We’ll have the tastiest morsel he can find, bless him.’
‘Poor boy,’ Lottie said softly. ‘You embarrassed him, Maggie.’
‘He’ll get over it, and I’ll give him a kiss to reward him for his trouble.’
‘I thought all ladies’ maids were prim and proper. You’re not a bit like that.’
Maggie threw back her head and laughed. ‘I am when it’s necessary. You’ll learn the tricks of the trade, Lottie my girl. But my motto is to have as much fun as possible while I’m young enough to enjoy myself.’
‘I suppose I can’t argue with that.’
‘My, you’re the serious one, aren’t you?’ Maggie eyed her curiously. ‘You never answered my question about your last position. Were you in service?’
‘Not really. I was a maid of all work in a coaching inn.’
‘Well, I never did. What with you speaking like the gentry and all that, I would have thought you were a convent girl. As for me, I was raised in the foundling hospital and sent into service when I was eleven. I don’t know who my ma and pa were and I don’t suppose I’ll ever find out.’
Maggie broke off as the waiters teemed out of the mess hall with their empty dishes. She winked at Private Perks as he hurried past. ‘Don’t forget us, Rodney, love.’
‘You shouldn’t tease him,’ Lottie said, trying not to giggle. ‘He’s just a boy.’
‘They’re all boys, but that doesn’t stop the army sending them into battle. They’ll grow up soon enough.’
‘Have you seen military service, Maggie?’
‘No, but I used to step out with a sapper. He’d seen conflict, and from what he told me it wasn’t pretty. I’m glad that Mrs Fothergill isn’t the sort of army wife who feels she has to follow her husband to war. She’s happy to stay at home and so am I.’
‘Lady Aurelia isn’t like that.’
Maggie pulled a face. ‘She’s got quite a reputation, has that one. You’ll find out, Lottie. I just hope you’re up to the challenge.’ She swivelled round on her stool as the waiters reappeared. This time they were empty-handed, except for Perks. He thrust a plate of food into Maggie’s hands. ‘That’s all I could get, miss.’
She blew him a kiss. ‘Thank you, Rodney. I’ll love you for ever.’
He dashed into the mess hall, leaving them with bread, cheese and a slice or two of roast chicken.
‘I do hope he doesn’t get into trouble,’ Lottie said through a mouthful of cheddar.
‘This will do, but he’d better bring us some dessert, or I’ll be very cross with that young man.’ Maggie bit into a hunk of bread. ‘He won’t warrant a kiss unless I get a bowl of strawberries and cream or some fruit jelly.’
‘Are we the only ladies’ maids in the camp?’ Lottie selected a piece of chicken.
‘The wives of the more junior officers are more likely to live in the town, and they’ll have a servant or two, but not like us.’ Maggie licked her fingers. ‘We’re far superior to most. Just remember that, my friend.’ She slid off her stool. ‘I’m going outside for a breath of air, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
Maggie’s idea of time seemed to be elastic and she was gone for such a long time that Lottie became worried and she went to open the door and look outside. Darkness was falling but she could just make out Maggie, who was sharing a cigarillo with the sentry. The end of the butt glowed in the dusk and puffs of smoke floated up into the sky.
‘Maggie,’ Lottie said as loudly as she dared. ‘They’ve cleared away the main course.’
Maggie took a last drag on the cigarillo before handing it back to the man on duty. ‘Ta, love. I needed that.’ She sashayed towards Lottie, exhaling smoke. ‘Don’t look so shocked. I enjoy a smoke just as much as the men.’
‘I was just thinking that you’d both be in trouble if you were caught,’ Lottie said calmly.
‘Life’s no fun unless you take a chance or two.’ Maggie opened the door. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dessert.’ She linked her hand through Lottie’s arm. ‘Come on, love.’
They arrived back to find Private Perks standing self-consciously by the door, clutching a plate of strawberries and cream. Maggie released Lottie and snatched it from him. ‘You’re a darling, Rodney. You must be your mother’s pride and joy.’
He blushed to the roots of his blond hair. ‘I can’t get you any more food, miss. That’ll have to be the last.’
Maggie popped a strawberry into her mouth. ‘I fancy one of those little cakes,’ she said, eyeing a silver platter laid out with dainty pastries.
‘Let him go,’ Lottie said in a low voice. ‘Don’t tease the poor chap.’
Perks shot her a grateful look. ‘No more, miss. You understand, don’t you?’
‘Of course. We won’t bother you again.’ Lottie stood aside to allow him to escape into the mess hall. ‘Leave him alone, Maggie.’
‘You’re no fun.’ Maggie shoved the plate under her nose. ‘Have a strawberry. They’re delicious.’
The words had barely left her mouth when the door opened and Gideon emerged from the dining room. He came to a halt, frowning. ‘I might have guessed it was you, Miss Cole. Perks doesn’t know if he’s coming or going. He’s just spilled a whole jug of cream on Mrs Fothergill’s skirt.’
Maggie swallowed a mouthful of fruit. ‘Oh dear Lord, she’ll be in a state for days.’ She thrust the plate into Lottie’s hand. ‘Take this, and don’t let on.’ She slid off the stool just as the doors flew open and an irate woman erupted into the anteroom.
‘Oh Lord,’ Maggie said again, sighing. ‘It had to be her, didn’t it?’
‘Look at me, Cole. My best gown is ruined. I’ll make sure that young private is dealt with severely.’ Mrs Fothergill held out the skirts of her purple gown, which clashed horribly with her berry-red hair.
Maggie folded her hands in front of her. ‘I’m so sorry, madam.’
‘This gown cost a small fortune.’ Mrs Fothergill clutched her hands to her bosom. ‘I feel faint. Send for my carriage, Cole. I want to go home.’
Maggie bobbed a curtsey. ‘Yes, madam. Right away.’ She snapped her fingers at Gideon, who had been standing to attention, keeping his eyes averted. ‘You heard Mrs Fothergill, Private Ellis. See that her carriage is brought round immediately.’