Nathaniel was confident Hudson knew he was not suggesting he had actually had a woman in his bed. Since his change of heart on Barbados, he had made every effort to keep his ways pure. He asked, “Have we some blond housemaid I am unaware of?”
“You seem unaware of all the maids, sir, if I may say.” Hudson paused to consider, staring up at the blue sky as though a staff roster were written there. “There is a scullery maid with fair hair, but hers is a rather short mop of curls. The laundry maid’s hair might once have been considered blond, but it’s all but grey now. And your sister’s hair is a rich coffee brown.”
Nathaniel gave his steward a sharp look, and Hudson turned away, face reddening. “Not that I have cause to notice.” He cleared his throat. “I can think of any manner of ways a stray hair might have ended in your bedclothes. I will ask Mrs. Budgeon to speak to the laundry maid straightaway, and see that she takes more care in future.”
Nathaniel waved the notion away. “Never mind, Hudson. I was only curious.”
“Very well, sir.” Hudson coughed. “But do let me know if you find any more... em... souvenirs.”
Nathaniel nodded. He realized he was lost in thought when he looked over to find Hudson studying him with wry amusement.
“Must have been some dream, sir. Did you eat something unusual last night, I wonder?”
“Come to think of it, Monsieur Fournier served herrings in some new garlic sauce, and I ate too many of them.”
Hudson’s eyes glinted. “Herrings, you say? I shall have to remember that.” He sighed. “What a man wouldn’t do to have such dreams.”
For the first time since his return, Nathaniel found his eyes traveling to the female servants he had consciously avoided before, both for their ease of mind and his privacy. He did not stare, only glanced quickly to gain a general impression of hair and stature. Had one of them been in his bedchamber early that morning? Was it her? Or her?
Stop it. None of the women, young or old, seemed unusually uncomfortable in his presence. All turned their backs or heads, feigning invisibility when he neared and then quietly resuming their work once he’d passed. He had not ordained the cold, impersonal system, but it had reigned at Fairbourne Hall since his grandmother’s day, and he had given it little thought before now.
He trotted upstairs, deciding to return to the scene of the morning’s strange dream. A middle-aged housemaid with auburn hair passed him in the corridor, eyebrows high, perhaps surprised to see him returning to his bedchamber at such an early hour, but she made no comment. He opened his bedchamber door and saw the rising billow of bedclothes being lofted over the bed, and the apron of the invisible housemaid beyond.
When the bedclothes lowered and settled, the maid glanced up and gave a little gasp. Unless he was imagining it, her face blanched, then mottled red.
Here then was a housemaid whodidseem alarmed by his presence. Or was she merely startled, unaccustomed to being disturbed at this time of day? He looked at her more closely, but the young woman ducked her head, clearly uncomfortable. He recognized her as the new maid Hudson hired, the one who wore spectacles and had broken his model ship. He blinked, trying to recall his dawn awakening. Had the face above him—whether in dream or reality—worn spectacles? Perhaps... He couldn’t quite recall. She had turned and fled so quickly.
A fringe of dark hair covered much of the new maid’s brow, the rest of her hair hidden beneath a floppy mobcap. Her eyebrows were dark as well. A pretty girl to be sure, but not the woman who’d left behind a loose blond lock.
“Sorry to startle you. Go about your work. I shall be out of your hair in a moment.” Why was he chatting away with a housemaid who clearly wanted him gone?Out of your hair?He had never uttered such an inane phrase in his life. He had hair on the brain.
Imbecile, he scolded himself. He was harebrained indeed.
Do nothing in your master’s house that you feel
obliged to conceal to keep your situation.
—Samuel and Sarah Adams,The Complete Servant
Chapter 17
Nathaniel and Helen once again sat talking in the family sitting room when Hudson entered.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Hello, Hudson. I was just telling Helen about your idea to hold a servants’ ball at harvest time.”
Helen gave a small smile. “I think it a marvelous notion.” She gripped her hands in her lap. “Would you mind terribly if I helped you plan it?”
Hudson pursed his lips in surprise. “I wouldn’t mind at all, miss. In fact it would be a pleasure.”
Her smile widened. “Good. It is very exciting and far too long since we have done anything for our people here. Did you do anything like it for yours in Barbados?”
Hudson knit his brows. “For the slaves, miss?”
She faltered, “Well... No, I don’t suppose that would be quite the thing.”
Nathaniel and Hudson exchanged a look.
