“I turned my back for two minutes,” she said, though there was no real anger in her voice. “Two minutes.”
“It was an accident!” Philip said quickly.
“We didn’t mean to knock over Miss Ellie’s bucket,” Arthur added. “She said it was all right!”
Miss Winslow’s gaze shifted to Eliza, who had risen to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Ellie. They’re supposed to be in the nursery doing their lessons.”
“It’s quite all right, Miss Winslow,” Eliza said, offering a reassuring smile. “No harm done. Just a bit of water. I suppose in a way, they helped.”
“You’re very kind.” Miss Winslow gave her a grateful look. “Most people aren’t nearly so patient with them.”
“They’re lovely boys,” Eliza said, and meant it.
Miss Winslow’s expression softened. “They are, aren’t they? Even when they’re causing chaos.” She held out her hands to the twins. “Come along, you two chaos demons. Let’s get you into dry clothes.”
“Do we have to finish our arithmetic?” Arthur asked reluctantly.
“Yes.”
“But it’s boring.”
“It’s also necessary. Come on.”
The boys groaned but obeyed, allowing Miss Winslow to shepherd them down the corridor. Philip waved at Eliza over his shoulder.
“Bye, Ellie!”
“Goodbye, Philip. Goodbye, Arthur.”
When they were gone, Eliza knelt back down and began mopping up the water. She was smiling, she realized. It had been a long time since she’d smiled like this, genuine and unforced, almost hurting her cheeks.
The boys reminded her of simpler times; laughter and innocence, the life she’d had before everything fell apart.
She thought of Abigail again, as she always did.
I wonder what Abigail would have thought of Arthur and Philip. She would have adored them,Eliza thought. She always loved children.
The longing ache returned, sharp and familiar. Eliza pushed it down and kept scrubbing.
Later that afternoon, Eliza was sent to the servants’ corridor to fetch fresh linens from the storage cupboard. As she approached, she heard voices drifting from the small sitting room the staff used during their breaks to enjoy a cigarette or a pipe, read the newspaper, or share a cup of tea. She slowed, not wanting to interrupt but couldn’t help but lean in to listen.
“It’s quite a turn in character for him, isn’t it?” one voice said.
Eliza realized quickly was Mary, the cheerful maid who’d shown Eliza the ropes her first day.
“Two weeks without a single party. It’s unnatural for His Grace!”
“Don’t get used to it,” a deeper woman’s voice replied, thick with smoke. “The moment those boys leave, he’ll be back to his old ways. He’s on his best behavior for the boys’ sake.”
Eliza recognized that was Jane, one of the senior housemaids. She was older, more cynical than Mary.
“What do you mean?” A younger voice, Lizzie, the scullery maid asked.
Jane snorted. “You’re green, so you wouldn’t know. But His Grace has quite a reputation. Parties every other week, sometimes. Music, dancing, drinking till dawn. And the women!”
“Jane,” Mary said, her tone cautioning.
“What? It’s true. He’s had half the eligible ladies in London here at one point or another. And some not-so-eligible ones, if you know what I mean.”
