“—dyknows, Em. You’re not half so clever as you think you are. And even if you were,shecertainly isn’t.”
And then Emily’s laughter, bell-bright and fearless. “You worry too much, Jimmy.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I don’t think Master James saw me, but Emily did. She saw me and she smiled, and her eyes told me to wait.
So I waited. And when her brother had left to go and do heir-to-the-estate things amongst the common folk, she wandered all careless-like to my side.
“Hello, stranger.”
“Reckon you don’t have to pretend we don’t know each other, miss,” I told her. Though I’d not curtseyed as I would have normally. “Folks understand.”
Emily looked almost upset, like she’d wanted me to play along. “What they’ll understand is that you’re an ordinary girl who the lady from the big house has kindly chosen to show around the fete. Come on.”
She reached out a gloved hand, and I took it. There was something electric about that, for usually when I touched her it was private, just us, with all the doors closed and the curtains drawn and the unspoken understanding that it never happened.
But now she took me by the hand and just for a moment we were no different from Vera and tall quiet Sam. No different from any other young couple.
We was, of course. Even then. Even at Christmas. Even on a half-day off with me in what passed for my best and her not giving a damn like always, we was different. When we stood to listen to the carollers, she couldn’t hold me, she could only stand by my side with a half an inch of air blowing cold between us. And when she bought me a bundle of gingerbread for luck, we had to eat it separate, just staring at each other in a crowd. I had to be content knowing that the spice and the sweetness that was on my lips was on hers as well. Even if that was all we could share while there was eyes on us.
The fete spread over most of the grounds, and we wandered out of sight of the house, down towards the river and then along it, past the bridge to the hermitage (and here Doris looked around at Audrey). You remember the one? Didn’t smell so bad of piss in them days. Or if it did, I didn’t care. Maybe it was just ’cause I was with her.
She sat me down on that hard stone bed and buried her fingers in my hair.
“Fuck,” she said—sorry, but she did, though; if it bothers you I can just sayeff, “I wish I didn’t have to hide you.”
Well I didn’t know how to take that. Because as I saw it there was no sense wishing for things that would never happen, and though it had its costs and its pains, right then I’d not have changed what we had for anything.
So I just begged for her to kiss me. And she did. And when I could speak again I begged her for more besides, and though there’d been times when she was cruel—because she liked to withhold things, did Emily, just in general, just because she could—on that day, she gave me everything I asked for.
I think I told her I loved her. I don’t think she was listening.
But her brother was.
He stepped into the door of the grotto like a wolf eating the sun. And all I can remember him saying was, “Em.”
I wanted to die then. From the shame of it, and from the knowing it was over.
I’d expected the news to come from Mrs. Loris. And it did, in a way. But all she said to me was, “Sir Arthur will see you now.”
I’d known the Branninghams on and off for a decade and I think I’d said maybe a hundred words to Sir Arthur. Less if you didn’t countsirandyes. So it was strange to be shown through nowto his study, a place I’d cleaned dozens of times before I made lady’s maid but never reallybeenin, and sat down opposite him like I was being interviewed in a newspaper.
“I want you to know,” he said, “that I don’t hold you responsible.”
I kept my eyes low. I remember he had this fountain pen in front of him, marbled blue with the name of the maker engraved on the nib. “Thank you, sir.”
“My daughter is a troubled young woman.”
“As you say, sir.”
Looking down, I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I think he frowned. “However, you understand that my family has a reputation to maintain. That should you make any accusations…”
“I won’t, sir.” The wordaccusationsstung. As I saw it, Emily had done nothing to be accused of. Leastways not as he meant it.
“Mrs. Loris will see to it that you are provided with an excellent reference.”
“Although”—Mrs. Loris spoke up here—“for your work as a housemaid only. Your services as a lady’s maid are, I think, best left undiscussed.”
