Bess nodded, the serene glow of her countenance somehow only enhanced by the exertion of their chores that morning.She’d helped steady the wobbly stepladder while Gemma stretched precariously up to fix the heavy curtain rod in place.Gemma was determined not to reflect on how much more enjoyable that situation might have been, had Hal been the one kneeling at her feet and putting up his big, strong hands to catch her when she leaned too far and nearly fell off the stool…
Gemma shook the idle longing from her head.Hal wasn’t at the Five Mile today as he’d been called out early to help with something called rogation, having to do with beating fences with sticks?Gemma wasn’t certain.All she knew was that things happened in the country that she never could have imagined in her former life.
But then, it had been a long week of doing all sorts of things Gemma could never have imagined herself doing in her former life.
She, who had once spent hours sitting perfectly still as her maid arranged her elegant coiffure, had barely had a moment off her feet since they brought the furnishings down from the big house, as everyone here referred to the ducal residence.
Along with Bess and her sister, Gemma had been over the Five Mile from top to bottom, attacking cobwebs and arranging rugs and wall hangings strategically to cover water stains and cracks in the plaster.
There were bruises on her knees from scrubbing floors, and her fingers were cracked and sore from repeated applications of harsh soap and vinegar-water.
Yes, there had been a little light screaming when she’d reached up the chimney to try to discover the source of the blockage that made it smoke, and an ancient bird nest dropped onto her head, nestling there like a decoration on one of Henrietta’s more bizarre bonnets; there had been the odd bout of jumping onto furniture when shaking out the wall hangings dislodged a family of mice from their nest.But on the whole, Gemma felt she had survived the week with her sanity (if not her dignity) intact, and the changes they’d wrought in Five Mile House made it all worth it.
And of course, the fact that she’d been so terribly busy meant she hadn’t had a moment to dwell on what it felt like to be kissed and caressed in an open field by Hal Deveril.
Well.Hardly a moment, anyway.
“I’m not sure what more we can do to make this old place sparkle,” Bess commented, dusting her hands on her coarse linen apron.“Mrs.Givens was saying last night she’d never seen it looking finer!I think everyone in the village has dropped by in the past few days to see the changes.”
“Hmm.I’m sure that’s not all they were hoping to get a look at,” Gemma grumbled.
“True enough,” Bess agreed, with the calm good cheer that had endeared her to Gemma throughout their miserable labors this week.No task was beyond Bess, and nothing seemed to jolt her from her steady and good-natured competence.It might have annoyed Gemma if she hadn't been so grateful for it.
“You and your family are the most interesting thing to happen in Little Kissington since the new parson came last year,” Bess continued as she bent to gather their cleaning supplies into a bucket to carry downstairs.“You can’t blame people for being curious.”
“I know.And I don’t want to appear standoffish, but there’s been so much to do.And it’s just been…nice, I suppose, not to be a spectacle for once.”
She had asked that Bess let the locals know that her mother was unwell and therefore the family was keeping very private, to forestall any gossip about the newest residents of Little Kissington being too high in the instep to mingle with their neighbors at the pub they owned.
“It’ll be a nine days’ wonder,” Bess predicted, handing the mop and dustpan to Gemma to carry.“Once folk get a chance to meet you and your family, they’ll become accustomed to you.Though, in fairness, the sight of a well-born ladyship like yourself holding a mop—and knowing how to use it!—is a bit of a spectacle.”
Brandishing the mop like a sword, Gemma gave a rueful laugh.“Oh, if my friends could see me now.How they would laugh!”
“I hope you’re not ashamed of the work you’ve done here,” Bess said, her tone a little sharper than Gemma had heard from her before.
“Good gracious, no,” Gemma protested as they clattered down the stairs.“I now believe every member of the aristocracy ought to be required to scour a privy before inheriting any wealth.They’d be all the better for it.”
“If it’s not too bold of me to say, I didn’t think you’d stick it out after that first day.But you surprised me, my lady.”
“I surprised myself,” Gemma said.“And please, we’ve swept up mouse droppings together.Surely that puts us on intimate terms.Call me Gemma.”
A flush of pleasure brought out the roses in Bess’s milkmaid complexion.“Gemma, then.”
The two women grinned at each other as they stowed the stepladder and cleaning supplies in the cupboard under the stairs.
“Have I thanked you for your help this week?”Gemma asked suddenly.“I should have.I never could have managed without you.Not only your wisdom on how to attack any stain known to man, but also your…Bessness.”
Bess laughed, merry as a brook burbling through a wooded glen.“My Bessness!”
“Yes, your indefinable way of being so utterly perfect all the time!”Gemma gestured up and down the other woman’s tidy figure, her perfect curves highlighted prettily by the tightly knotted sash of her oatmeal-colored apron.“You have a knack for accepting people as they are, I think.And it makes you a very restful person to be around.”
“What a lovely compliment.”Bess smoothed her hands down her skirts, dropping her gaze.She almost seemed flustered.“I find that most people only want to be seen for who they are.A good deal of mischief is made in this world by folk pretending to be something they’re not.”
Gemma pushed open the kitchen door and collapsed into one of the hard-backed wooden chairs as if it were cushioned in damask stuffed with goose down.“Good heavens.How early it still is, and I already feel all done in.”
“What you want is a nice rest,” Bess advised, her quick, light steps never slowing or faltering as she moved about the kitchen to begin her next series of tasks.Gemma watched her graceful and purposeful movements and felt, for the hundredth time that week, as if she’d only recently woken up from a dreamlike daze to finally see the world as it truly was.
The amount of backbreaking physical labor that went into sustaining a simple, everyday life was astonishing.And the proportion of that work that was done by women, toiling unseen in sculleries and kitchens and washrooms…Gemma blinked hard and let out a heavy breath.
