Back in Service (7 page)

‘I do not know what to do, Miss Hetty. I am so frightened every time I go down to the stillroom. I am terrified he will suddenly appear.’

‘Do not worry, from now on I shall come with you,’ she promised. ‘Just come to me each time you need to go there and I will make sure you are not alone.’

Relief and gratitude shone out of Jane’s jewel-bright eyes. ‘Oh thank you, miss!’

‘Whatever happens, you may confess it to me, and if I can do anything about it, I will. I am your friend now, Jane. I know what it is like to feel alone and persecuted, but now I have some clout here. Even though I am not mistress of the house, I am married to the heir, and that counts for something.’

The conversation satisfactorily ended, Hetty decided to take a walk around the garden. She found Leo there talking to the head gardener, and he asked her to accompany him on a tour of the grounds. ‘Things are in a sorry state,’ he told her. ‘But two heads are better than one. Perhaps you can help me sort out the priorities.’

Soon, however, she was obliged to face her nightmare memories again. There, looking somewhat more ramshackle than when she last set eyes upon it, was the infamous summerhouse, scene of Sir Victor’s obscene revels. ‘Oh Leo,’ she said faintly, ‘that terrible place! Let us not go near it, please.’

‘On the contrary.’ He grasped her hand and half dragged her towards it with determined strides. ‘It is time we faced our ghosts, Hetty. You and I have a perfect right to inspect the building, and inspect it we shall. Do not let the past haunt you, my dear.’

She acquiesced for her husband’s sake, watching nervously as he unlocked the padlock with a key from the bunch hanging from his belt. The ancient door creaked menacingly as it swung open and the interior of the building was dark, but through a hole in the roof a faint shred of sky could be glimpsed that shed an eerie light on the messy floor.

‘Let us have some more light,’ Leo declared, and reaching up to the sconces on the wall soon had several of the thick candles lit. In the flickering illumination, Hetty could distinguish the accumulated rubbish – old birds’ nests, rats’ droppings, shredded upholstery and scraps of paper. There was a musty smell, too, that made her wrinkle her nose.

‘Well, things have come to a pretty pass here,’ he observed, walking over to the bookcase and unlocking it. ‘Hmm, the books seem in good condition still, as they have been kept under glass. Some of them are quite valuable, I believe. We may not approve of their contents, but that is no excuse for neglecting them. I think we should inspect them more closely to make sure the pages are not foxed or the covers damaged by damp or rot.’

She followed him over to the bookcase, and in the candlelight refreshed her memory of some of the titles on display. There was
Spare Not the Rod
, a treatise on the rearing of importunate young women. She flipped through its pages and studied some of the drawings of girls in various stages of undress being disciplined by a variety of implements. Next to it on the shelf sat
Barbaric Beatings
, which was similarly illustrated, as was
Sweet Agony
, a novel by Father Ignorantine, which according to the foreword was about the salvation of fallen women through ‘penitential punishment’.

Leo was walking around the room scribbling in his notebook. ‘I think we may turn this into a proper summerhouse,’ he remarked. ‘Somewhere pleasant for the ladies of the house to take their ease, the way it was first intended. We shall purge the place of its shameful history, Hetty, my dear. Wait and see.’

‘I wish you could do the same to my memory.’ She linked her arm affectionately through his. ‘I would like it swept clean of all dark cobwebs and refurbished with pure, innocent thoughts.’

He kissed her cheek. ‘Are you pleased to be back?’

‘Yes and no. I love the house and gardens, and Lady Alice is being kind to me.’

‘She wants to keep us here.’

‘The other servants are respectful, too, and I like Jane a great deal, I think she and I could be friends, but—’

‘Good! You need a companion, Hetty. I am sure you already miss the few friends you had in Paris.’

‘Yes, but… tell me about Nanny Baines, Leo. I understand she had charge of you when you were a child?’

His face darkened. ‘I only hope she is being as cruel to my detestable father as she was to me,’ he muttered in a voice so laden with venom she was astounded.

‘Why?’ she breathed. ‘What did she do to you that was so terrible?’

‘Another time,’ he said curtly. ‘But mind you, do not get on the wrong side of her, that is all. Now let us extinguish these sconces, I have seen enough here, and return to the house.’

They entered by the side door and made their way to the front hall, where Hetty was surprised to be met by Jane.

‘Excuse me, Miss Hetty, but you said to tell you when a certain order was given…’

Leo took leave of his wife with an absent kiss and strode off in the direction of the library.

‘What is it, Jane?’

‘The stillroom, I have been asked to go there and fetch lavender water for her ladyship, and you said—’

‘I know what I said and I shall keep my word,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Come, let us go together now.’

The pair of them ventured into the long dark corridor at the back of the house, leading to the old dairy and stillroom and from there to the stables. Hetty knew the latter used to be a favourite haunt of Sir Victor in the days when he could still ride, but she hardly expected to find him lurking there now. Everything seemed quiet as they entered the stillroom, and she sat gazing out of the small window at the park outside while Jane measured out the required amount of toilet water, pouring it into the fancy glass bottle belonging to Lady Alice. Witnessing the operation, she found herself possessed by a nostalgic mood. How many times she had performed that same task, always with one ear and one eye open for the evil intruder. ‘Stopper it up well,’ she advised her successor. ‘You know to keep it in the dark, Jane? All perfumes lose their potency if exposed to light and air.’

‘Yes, Miss Hetty,’ she replied dutifully, but suddenly the cork flew from her fingers and rolled into a dark corner beneath the bench. ‘Oh dear!’ She put the bottle on a shelf and went down on her hands and knees to search for it while Hetty drew back, afraid her interference was making the girl nervous and clumsy. Then she heard a strange sound, a rhythmic squeaking that seemed to be coming closer, and before she had quite worked out what it was, the door was pushed wide open and the chair-bound figure of Sir Victor filled the threshold. He did not see Hetty, for his beady eyes were fixed intently on Jane’s upturned bottom.

‘What have we here?’ he gloated hoarsely. ‘Young Jane upon her knees? Oh happy hour.’

Hetty held her breath, not daring to make her presence known, as Jane glanced over her shoulder with an expression on her face reminiscent of a frightened rabbit. ‘Oh sir, you startled me.’

Sir Victor pushed on the wheels with his palms and slid further into the room, his eyes still glued to her bottom.

Jane scrambled to her feet and made an awkward curtsey.

‘You make a pretty sight, my dear, a sight for sore eyes. You know of my penchant for a pretty arse, Miss Jane.’

‘Y-yes, sir,’ she stammered, and glanced at Hetty, who up until that moment had remained out of Sir Victor’s line of sight.

He swivelled round abruptly to face her. ‘Ah, it is the shrew from France,’ he barked disdainfully. ‘She has airs, that one, but she is as much of a slut at heart as you are, Jane dear, and she loves to have her pretty rump smacked. Do you not, my dear?’

‘No, Sir Victor, I do not,’ Hetty replied coldly. ‘And as for putting on airs, I am the same woman I was when I left here.’

‘Dear me, then we shall have to watch our P’s and Q’s.’ He sneered and beckoned to Jane. ‘Come here, child, and let me whisper a few secrets in your ear. You will soon learn that Lady Muck is no better than you are.’

Hetty feared she was about to be humiliated, but then Jane suddenly showed her mettle. ‘I beg your pardon, Sir Victor,’ she said coolly, ‘but Lady Alice is waiting for her lavender water. I dropped the stopper under here, so I must search for it, if you will excuse me.’

He gave a low, animal growl but said nothing. Instead, he sat watching while she groped beneath the bench, her bottom thrust high in the air and her long black skirt riding about her slender calves.

Loathing the lascivious look in his eye, Hetty tried to distract him with conversation. ‘I understand your nurse, Nanny Baines, used to be employed to look after my husband.’ She strove to keep her tone light and conversational. ‘It must be nice for you all to have her working at Longton Hall again.’

‘The woman is a harridan,’ he snapped, ‘so best beware of her. One day the pair of you shall get a tongue lashing from her, I dare say, and who knows what else. I would not like to argue with a woman of her size. Fortunately, I am exempt from the worst excesses of her temper, being a vulnerable invalid.’ He tossed her such a comic, self-pitying leer that Hetty almost laughed aloud. Yet the implications of his words were quite plain and gave her cause for concern. It seemed Nanny Baines was not averse to administering punishment of a corporal nature. If so, she would see to it Jane never bore the wrath of such a formidable woman. She had already appointed herself protector of the girl against Sir Victor, and if she had to take a similar position against his nurse, then so be it.

Jane found the cork at last, scrambled to her feet, sealed the bottle and slipped it in her apron pocket. ‘Excuse me, Sir Victor, I need to return now,’ she said politely, but he moved the wheelchair only a grudging few inches out of her way, and Hetty realised what his game was the minute Jane tried to squeeze past him. There was no room for her to do so, so she was all but stuck with her body in close proximity to the man’s wandering fingers. She gazed in horror as his palm smoothed its way down Jane’s slim buttocks and gave her right bottom cheek a good hearty pinch through her skirt.

‘Ouch!’ she yelped.

Hetty was beside herself with anger and loathing. ‘Leave her alone!’ she cried. ‘How dare you touch such an innocent girl?’

‘Ah, you see
yourself
in her.’ He leered. ‘Well, she has a prettier face and a nicer arse, you can be sure of that.’

Sickened, Hetty took hold of the wheelchair and pushed it bodily out of Jane’s path. The girl squeezed past and hurried off without a backward glance, leaving Hetty to face her old tormentor alone. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ she said tightly. ‘What will it take to cure you of your disgraceful ways? I should have thought immobilisation would have been enough, yet you seem as depraved as ever.’

He looked straight up into her eyes with a kind of yearning expression that almost wrung pity from her heart. Then his hand, warm and heavy, clamped over hers where it rested on the arm of the chair. ‘My dear, such times we had, such times,’ he murmured wistfully. ‘It has not been the same since you left. I do what little I can to keep up appearances and delight my old friends, but as you see, I am a pale shadow of my former self.’ He sighed theatrically and she saw the wart on his cheek quiver as his moustache trembled. ‘You could make an old man very happy, you know, as once you did.’

His hand reached up with surprising speed and clawed at one of her breasts, but she slapped it down and pushed his chair away with all her might, then walked down the dark passageway as quickly as she could, and soon reached the safety of the main hall.

She went straight upstairs to Lady Alice’s room, where she found Jane with her mistress. ‘Excuse me, my lady,’ she said, ‘but I think Sir Victor may need assistance. I believe his chair has become stuck in the door to the stillroom.’

‘Really?’ his wife said. ‘Whatever next? Well, do not come running to me in the future, my dear, for I can do nothing about it. Go fetch Nanny Baines. She has the strength of ten men and is used to the wayward behaviour of that contraption.’

‘Where shall I find her?’

‘In her room, of course. Oh never mind, I shall go just this once, but do not bother me again. I have as little as possible to do with Sir Victor these days. He is such a trial.’ She put down her needlework and left the room.

‘Stuck in the stillroom door, you say?’ Jane asked, and giggled.

‘Well, not exactly,’ she smiled, ‘but I had to say something to get her out of the way. Now I know what you have had to suffer these past months, Jane dear, I am determined you will suffer no more. When Sir Victor tried the same tricks on me he found he had met his match, and I shall do my utmost to protect you.’

‘Oh miss, you are so kind!’ She stood on tiptoe and planted a spontaneous kiss on Hetty’s cheek.

The girl’s lips were warm and soft and waves of pure pleasure coursed through Hetty’s body, taking her by surprise.

‘Well, do not forget, if ever you need me, just ring or send for me… I must go now.’ She left hastily, flustered by the strange turmoil assailing her insides. It was time to find Leo. She needed someone to confide in and he was her only powerful ally in this strange and often hostile household.

Finding him in their sitting room, she relaxed somewhat. They had been given light and airy chambers on one side of the house near Lady Alice’s apartments. The sitting room boasted a view of the park and was furnished with a variety of pretty ornaments and landscape paintings. Coming up behind him as he pored over the accounts sitting in a big armchair, she planted an affectionate kiss on top of his head.