Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tuesday 18 April 1837.
The weather in London is milder than in Edinburgh, and though Araminta has been back for a month, the warmth on her face still surprises her as she dismounts her carriage to meet Eleanor. The water is rancid and she tries not to retch as she spots the maid on deck, above, and motions her to disembark.
‘Ma’am.’ Eleanor makes a formal curtsey on the quay and, rising from it, smiles widely. The women embrace. ‘The longshoremen will unload,’ Eleanor says. ‘It’ll take a couple of hours, I should think. The boatswain engaged three carts with drivers on our behalf.’
‘I’ve had one of the stables cleared,’ Araminta replies. ‘We can unpack it all there. There’s room in the attics if need be.’
The women fall to silence, unsure what to say now the day-to-day arrangements are covered. A stevedore with a trolley passes and Araminta is caught unaware by the stink of the fellow. She clutches her stomach.
‘I’ve become unaccountably sensitive,’ she explains. ‘I can’t seem to settle...’
‘I’ll see to everything,’ Eleanor offers, glancing at the coach. ‘If you need to lie down.’
‘I didn’t come for the unloading. I’m hungry for news,’ Araminta admits.
Eleanor grins once more. ‘More than Mr Drummond wrote to you?’
‘Certainly. All the matters Mr Drummond did not include,’ Araminta confirms.
They remove to the carriage and Araminta sends the coachman to fetch refreshment from the Prospect.
‘Well?’ she opens. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense!’
‘Cook will come,’ Eleanor announces. ‘She won’t hazard a trip by sea but will catch the stage next Friday and should be with us on Monday. She’s bringing the kitchen maid. She wouldn’t leave her.’
‘And the others?’
‘I paid off the housemaids. They’ve secured positions elsewhere. Mr Neill helped with that. Davey said he’d come at first, but then he was offered a place on Anne Street. I couldn’t convince him otherwise.’
‘I see.’
Eleanor leans in, for the next is gossip. ‘He’s fond of Malvina Wells,’ she says.
‘Who’s that?’
‘An American. A freed slave. She’s the talk of the West End. In service to the McLean family on Randolph Crescent.’
‘Will he marry the girl?’
‘I’ve no idea. Cook says he ought to. I paid him six months as you said, for his loyalty in Linlithgow.’
The coachman returns with two cups of stout and a pie on a pewter plate. Araminta sets the tray between them. Eleanor takes a sip of the beer. ‘It’s good,’ she says, but Araminta can’t face it.
‘How’s my great aunt? She’s written but she doesn’t tell me about her health.’
‘She’s well. Back in the convent. They say she’ll have to walk with a stick, but she’s determined that won’t inhibit her.’
‘Was she sad to see the house cleared?’
‘I think so. But also glad in a way. She’s started a drive to educate young women. They’re going to offer classes at the convent to teach girls how to read.’ Eleanor pauses. ‘I’ve news ofmy own, ma’am,’ the maid admits. ‘I’ve been stepping out with a gentleman. An officer. From the castle. Am I permitted?’
Araminta nods. ‘You are if you wish.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Is he . . . ?’
