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Authors: Judith Cutler
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servants’ quarters.
It seemed that my request to Mrs Sandys to improve Miss Southey’s lot had fallen on deaf ears. She was still housed in the nursery wing, the coldest part of the house, rather than in what I hoped were the warmer quarters of the upper servants.
‘The poor girl should not be in accommodation as paltry as this,’ Mrs Hansard exclaimed, huddling more deeply into her pelisse as we trod the uncarpeted and unheated corridors. ‘If Miss Southey is unwell, Tobias, it will be as much as a result of her treatment here as of her afternoon’s soaking.’
I nodded, trying to stop my teeth chattering. ‘The social placing of the governess was ever problematic, of course.’
Mrs Hansard nodded. ‘She is neither flesh nor fowl, and often ends up as being less than a good red herring. Yet in some households valuing education she may be treated even better than the housekeeper, with a servant of her own.’
‘Alas, it does not need this afternoon’s evidence to show that the Bramhalls do not value poor Miss Southey.’
‘And, Tobias, that Lady Chase herself did not value her own governess, if she kept her up here. And yet now she is the most generous and considerate of people.’
‘Clearly I will have to speak to Lady Chase.’
The little maid tapped at the schoolroom door – at least Miss Southey was allowed that much dignity. She knocked again, more loudly. At last, she turned back to us, puzzlement writ large over her face. ‘Mrs Hansard, ma’am, Mr Campion, sir – there is no reply.’
‘We will go in anyway,’ Mrs Hansard declared, with as much authority as if her chatelaine held keys not for Langley Park but for this very house.
‘But—’
Mrs Hansard ignored the poor child’s protest and almost strode into the room, which was deserted. Miss Southey’s bedchamber lay the far side. The door was open and we could see that the room was empty.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Do you think,’ I ventured quietly to Mrs Hansard, ‘that Miss Southey might have sought comfort of one I have encouraged to befriend her? Lady Dorothea?’
I did not quite believe that my friend was hopeful, but she told the servant to ask Lady Dorothea to spare a few moments of her time. We were ushered back into the warmer world the other side of the green baize door.
We waited many minutes in the library.
‘Young ladies of quality lead very busy lives,’ Mrs Hansard observed at last, with a satirical smile unsurprising in one who had worked – hard – for her living. But her face softened as she saw me biting my lip. ‘Forgive me, Tobias. It may be she has already started to dress for dinner and it would not be fitting for her to receive us en déshabille .’
‘Of course not,’ I agreed, my voice falsely bright. I did not dare voice my hope that at this very moment Lady Dorothea might be offering comfortable words and warm clothes to the poor governess. I had a suspicion that Mrs Hansard would not oblige me with credence.
The ormolu clock ticked another three minutes, then the door was flung open and Lady Dorothea veritably flew into the room.
‘I have just this minute returned from Leamington,’ she declared, casting aside her pelisse and unfastening her bonnet. Seeing that the ribbon was becoming unaccountably tangled, Mrs Hansard stepped forward to assist her. ‘Thank you – you are very kind. But what is this I hear? Pray, Mrs Hansard, Mr Campion – explain.’ She sank to a seat, and indicated that we might sit.
My narrative was brief, omitting the most horrible details. It was interrupted with quick gasps, and stifled protestations. To my chagrin, I must have emerged as somewhat of a hero, and Lady Dorothea’s eyes anxiously darted from Mrs Hansard’s face to mine.
‘You are safe and sound, Mr Campion?’ she asked at last.
Did my heart beat more strongly at her interest? This was not the moment for such a thought. ‘Thank you, yes. Your nieces I cannot speak for,’ I said, with forbearance,
It seemed that my request to Mrs Sandys to improve Miss Southey’s lot had fallen on deaf ears. She was still housed in the nursery wing, the coldest part of the house, rather than in what I hoped were the warmer quarters of the upper servants.
‘The poor girl should not be in accommodation as paltry as this,’ Mrs Hansard exclaimed, huddling more deeply into her pelisse as we trod the uncarpeted and unheated corridors. ‘If Miss Southey is unwell, Tobias, it will be as much as a result of her treatment here as of her afternoon’s soaking.’
I nodded, trying to stop my teeth chattering. ‘The social placing of the governess was ever problematic, of course.’
Mrs Hansard nodded. ‘She is neither flesh nor fowl, and often ends up as being less than a good red herring. Yet in some households valuing education she may be treated even better than the housekeeper, with a servant of her own.’
‘Alas, it does not need this afternoon’s evidence to show that the Bramhalls do not value poor Miss Southey.’
‘And, Tobias, that Lady Chase herself did not value her own governess, if she kept her up here. And yet now she is the most generous and considerate of people.’
‘Clearly I will have to speak to Lady Chase.’
The little maid tapped at the schoolroom door – at least Miss Southey was allowed that much dignity. She knocked again, more loudly. At last, she turned back to us, puzzlement writ large over her face. ‘Mrs Hansard, ma’am, Mr Campion, sir – there is no reply.’
‘We will go in anyway,’ Mrs Hansard declared, with as much authority as if her chatelaine held keys not for Langley Park but for this very house.
‘But—’
Mrs Hansard ignored the poor child’s protest and almost strode into the room, which was deserted. Miss Southey’s bedchamber lay the far side. The door was open and we could see that the room was empty.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Do you think,’ I ventured quietly to Mrs Hansard, ‘that Miss Southey might have sought comfort of one I have encouraged to befriend her? Lady Dorothea?’
I did not quite believe that my friend was hopeful, but she told the servant to ask Lady Dorothea to spare a few moments of her time. We were ushered back into the warmer world the other side of the green baize door.
We waited many minutes in the library.
‘Young ladies of quality lead very busy lives,’ Mrs Hansard observed at last, with a satirical smile unsurprising in one who had worked – hard – for her living. But her face softened as she saw me biting my lip. ‘Forgive me, Tobias. It may be she has already started to dress for dinner and it would not be fitting for her to receive us en déshabille .’
‘Of course not,’ I agreed, my voice falsely bright. I did not dare voice my hope that at this very moment Lady Dorothea might be offering comfortable words and warm clothes to the poor governess. I had a suspicion that Mrs Hansard would not oblige me with credence.
The ormolu clock ticked another three minutes, then the door was flung open and Lady Dorothea veritably flew into the room.
‘I have just this minute returned from Leamington,’ she declared, casting aside her pelisse and unfastening her bonnet. Seeing that the ribbon was becoming unaccountably tangled, Mrs Hansard stepped forward to assist her. ‘Thank you – you are very kind. But what is this I hear? Pray, Mrs Hansard, Mr Campion – explain.’ She sank to a seat, and indicated that we might sit.
My narrative was brief, omitting the most horrible details. It was interrupted with quick gasps, and stifled protestations. To my chagrin, I must have emerged as somewhat of a hero, and Lady Dorothea’s eyes anxiously darted from Mrs Hansard’s face to mine.
‘You are safe and sound, Mr Campion?’ she asked at last.
Did my heart beat more strongly at her interest? This was not the moment for such a thought. ‘Thank you, yes. Your nieces I cannot speak for,’ I said, with forbearance,
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