“Do you know a gardener named Henry?” she asked as she stacked the napkins.
“Henry? Never heard of him.”
“He's head gardener? He is even called Gardener?”
“Sorry, Annie. Haven't been out much in the gardens. Don't have time.” She set down the last folded napkin. “Right. We get to have tea now.”
Lucy followed Meg down into the servants’ hall, where she was given a cup of strong tea and a piece of shortbread.
So that was a servant's life. Toil, toil, and more toil.
“Lady Arabella just arrived.” A footman rushed into the servant’s hall, setting it off in a frenzy of activity. Goodness! Lucy wondered whether Arabella even had an inkling of what impact her arrival had on the servants.
“John, quick, take the tea tray to the blue salon. Her Grace and Lady Arabella are waiting there,” the housekeeper told a footman, who was still in the process of drinking his tea. He looked at his teacup regretfully, got up, and scrambled into his scarlet-gold livery coat. It would take a while until he’d buttoned up his waistcoat. Mrs Bates turned to issue orders to the maids.
Lucy acted quickly. She grabbed the silver tray and left the room. In the general busyness of the hall, it would take a while until anyone realised that the tea tray was missing.
Chapter 5
Dear me, it was heavy! Lucy stumbled and nearly dropped the silver tray in the narrow servant’s stairway leading up to the second floor. She’d worked with Meg in the blue salon previously, so she knew where to find it.
“Ah. Finally. Tea. What took you so long? Bring it here, girl,” a rusty, masculine-sounding voice said, followed by a stomping of a cane on the floor. It belonged to an elderly woman with snow-white hair and an eagle nose. That must be the Dowager Duchess Augusta Ashmore, Arabella’s grandmother. She sat on a French chaise longue and looked up haughtily when Lucy entered. Across from her sat a blonde-headed girl, with a finely chiselled nose and high classical forehead that no doubt was a family heritage. Arabella. She looked pretty in a pink muslin dress. She never looked Lucy’s way but kept her head bent over her embroidery. “What are you loitering there for, girl? I said bring it here!”
Lucy placed the tray on a side table, glad that she hadn’t toppled the heavy pot with the water. Now she understood why Meg was so terrified of meeting a member of the household. The dowager was intimidating. Her icy grey eyes were sharp and her tongue even sharper.
Another stomp of the cane on the floor.
“What do we have here?” The woman bent forward to inspect the tray.
“Meringues, cucumber sandwiches, and almond tarts,” Lucy said after she curtsied.
“Bah. Nothing but sweets and bland vegetables.”
“You could add pepper to the cucumber sandwiches,” Lucy replied. “Although I daresay a pinch of chilli might be better.”
“Chilli! Are you trying to poison me?”
“You could also try some paprika. Not as spicy as chilli, I daresay,” Lucy insisted.
Lady Augusta appeared stunned at the audacity of the housemaid. “What? Are you trying to lecture me on what spices I might enjoy?”
“Not at all, ma’am. I was just thinking if you don’t like sugar and the only other alternative appears to be bland cucumber sandwiches, one might as well add some spices which you no doubt grow in your beautiful garden, tended by a gardener.”
Arabella emitted an unladylike shriek, causing the dowager to drop her cane. Lucy picked it up and talked on. “Next to ginger, pepper, chilli and paprika, one might also try oregano or—”
“Lucy!” Lucy found herself hugged, squeezed and whirled around. “Lucy, Lucy, Lucy! Itisyou! I thought I was dreaming of hearing your voice in this room! What are you doing here! Oh my goodness, and look at you in this outfit! Is this one of your tricks again?” Arabella squeezed her again.
“What? How? Tricks? And who is this Lucy you keep screeching about?” The dowager groped for her quizzing glass.
“Oh, what joy, my Lucy is finally here in Ashmore Hall, and you never even told me you were coming! It’s been so long! You naughty girl, I worried myself sick over you. You never replied to any of my letters. I’ve so much to tell you.” She dragged Lucy to the sofa and pulled her down next to her.
Lucy was laughing and crying simultaneously.
The dowager looked at the pair as if she didn’t understand the world anymore. “I just want some tea with a small treat that does not contain sugar, and my granddaughter goes off in hysterics over the maid. What’s this world coming to?” she complained.
“Grandmama, this is my best friend, Lucy Bell, with whom I went to the Seminary in Bath. We shared rooms. I told you about her!”
Lucy untangled herself from Arabella’s embrace and curtsied.
