Bound to Serve (12 page)

“Yes,” she said. “I’m coming.”

***

It snowed all night, the hardest and earliest snowfall the region had seen in years. By morning a blanket of white covered the ground, with no signs of stopping. Elspeth was up earlier than usual to stoke the fires and check that the boys’ blankets were pulled up round them.

She thought about going back to bed but knew she would not be able to sleep if she did. So instead she sat in the rocking chair by the window wrapped in a blanket to await the gray and snowy dawn.

Elspeth did not know how long Clifford Harker had been standing there watching. When she turned to catch sight of him in the doorway she couldn’t say anything. At first he didn’t either. Then he walked over to her and sat in the chair beside hers.

“I should have defended you yesterday,” he said. “You were right. Mrs. Habersham was needlessly cruel.” He paused. “It may be hard for you to understand, Elspeth, but any indication of….feeling…on my part would be tinder for the blaze of gossip that woman would start. I can’t….”

“I understand,” Elspeth said. And she did.

“You are frank,” he said. “You are too frank for a servant. After your angry words I considered punishing you. But I bore some of the blame for sending you messages that I’m sure are confusing.”

He sighed. “But Mrs. Habersham is right about one thing. These children need a mother and it is time I started thinking of their needs and not my own. They need a woman to call “mother” before they outgrow their need for one. And so I have made a decision.”

Elspeth felt her heart leap in her chest. Finally he was going to make things right. She almost smiled, but didn’t. She did not want to fear too eager.

“I am going to court Prudence. As distasteful as Mrs. Habersham is, she is right about her niece. She is a charming young woman, very cultured, of sound mind, schooled in the domestic arts and comes from a good family.”

Elspeth felt herself go numb. She said nothing, but only blinked and nodded as she turned her gaze from his face to the snow falling outside.

“I tell you this, Elspeth because as I said, I have said things, done things that I am sure confuse you. You are a sweet girl, and have been good to my sons. You will have a place in my household as long as you need it. But as for anything changing between us…”

She turned to him and drew on every ounce of resolve to force a smile.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

He stood and nodded.

“Very well, then.”

He turned and when he was gone she stood too and walked back to her room, where she lay on the bed and sobbed into her pillow as if her very heart would break.

Chapter Ten

Elspeth cried all night. She could not sleep for the deep pain that kept her awake and coated her pillow with tears. When she did drift off it was to half-dreamt images of Clifford taking vows with the statuesque Prudence Alder as she watched from the back of the chapel.

She tried again and again to remind herself of her place, repeating to herself over and over that she was a servant – just a simple, poor, uneducated servant who had mistaken her master’s moment of weakness for something more than it was. But as the hours ticked past Elspeth came to the realization that all the logic in the world was not going to mend her broken heart.

As the snow covered the roof in its cold blanket she felt the cold weight of despair cover her heart.

She did not know what to do. She could not leave; she was bound to serve Clifford Harker until the cost of her transport had been settled. How long would that take? A year? Two? She thought about asking Harker if he would allow her to leave and work for another household. But such a move might raise suspicions; he would have to give a reason and the only acceptable reason to terminate a servant was for poor performance. And then there were Harry and Colin to consider. Even if their father was planning to court and remarry they would need a mother figure in the meantime.

They would need her.

The notion of giving up Harry and Colin to the practical and cultured Prudence Alder pained Elspeth nearly as much as giving up Clifford. She loved everything about the little boys, their mannerisms, their enthusiasm, the way their skin smelled when she kissed them goodnight, the feel of their arms around her neck.

She knew that to prepare them for their father’s taking another wife would mean pulling back from them emotionally to make room for their new mother. Would they understand? Perhaps Colin would instinctively understand. But the younger and more exuberantly affectionate Harry would surely be confused.

It would be her job to ease the transition to a new life with a new mother, and to discourage the resentment they may naturally feel towards Prudence. Could she do that? Would she herself feel resentment towards the woman she would be forced to watch take possession of the very life she secretly wanted for herself?

Elspeth rolled over on her back and threw an arm across her face. The light of a cold and snowy dawn was breaking on the horizon and she’d not slept. Her throat felt sore, her nose stuffy, her eyes puffed and sore from all the tears she’d shed.

But she could not keep to her bed, especially not on a morning like this. She stood and walked over to the wash basin, where she splashed some cold water on her face. It made her feel a little better, but did nothing to ease the pain in her chest.

Down the hall they boys were still sleeping. The fire in their fireplace had burn down to the coals so, kneeling, she tossed in two fresh logs and coaxed a blaze from the coal to feed on them.

She did not go to Clifford’s room; he tended his own fire. But she did go downstairs and start a blaze in the living room and kitchen so the house would be warm by the time father and sons came down for breakfast. This morning it was ham, oatcakes and stewed apples.

Usually the warm, comforting smells of cooking cheered her up. The appreciative smiles and compliments of Clifford Harker and the boys always got her day off to a good start. But this morning when they came downstairs with their father to excitedly tuck into their honey and oatcakes she felt a pang of renewed pain.

“Enjoy what time you have,” she told herself and tried to put on a happy face. But it was an ineffective show judging by how Clifford Harker looked at her. When Elspeth saw him staring at her red-rimmed eyes she turned away. Half of her hoped he would express concern, half of her hoped he would not. The latter half won.

“May we go play in the snow after breakfast, papa?” Colin asked.

“Not today,” he said. “It’s still snowing quite hard. Perhaps when it is over. Today you should stick to your studies. I’d like you to come in my study after you’ve washed up from your morning meal so we can go over your writing.”

Elspeth turned and found herself speaking before she could stop herself. “Should I come too, sir? I’m well into my reading. You said I could learn more.”

But Clifford Harker visibly stiffened and answered without even looking at her.

“No,” he said curtly. “I’ve decided to discontinue your instruction. And to relieve you of responsibility for teaching the boys. That is…”

He paused. “…a parent’s role.”

Elspeth felt the lump in her throat swell to bursting. She was struggling to contain it when Harry spoke.

“Why can’t Elspeth teach us?” he asked. “She’s a good teacher. And she likes to learn, too..”

“Harry…” Clifford Harker’s voice was filled with warning. “This is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern,” the boy persisted. “I like the way she teaches us…”

“SILENCE!” Clifford Harker’s voice boomed through the kitchen. He leaned towards his son and Elspeth could not help but note the strain in his voice as he addressed his eldest.

“I make the decisions in this house, Colin. And when I do they are not to be questioned unless you wish to feel the pain of correction.”

Colin fell silent but the look of anger and hurt lingered on his face even as Elspeth stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s quite right, Colin,” she said. “And I don’t mind, really.” Elspeth tried to inject a positive tone in her voice but the words sounded flat, even to her.

“Come now. Let’s go upstairs and get you and your brother cleaned up.”

Colin and Harry rose and walked from the room, but as she was leaving Clifford Harker called after her.

“Elspeth, a word.”

She halted, not wanting to turn. But she knew she had to obey. Taking a deep breath she turned.

“Sir?”

“My reasoning on this…”

“…needs no explanation,” she said, daring to finish his sentence for him. “Please, Master Harker. You made your plans clear to me last night. I am not so simple as you think. I understand why you do what you do. You do not need to explain. But the boys…”

Her voice trailed off.

“What about them?” A hard edge had returned to his tone. A challenging edge.

“Nothing,” she said. “May I be excused, then?”

“You may,” he said, although he hesitated a moment before releasing her. And in that moment the air hung heavy with words it seemed he wanted to say.

A bell sounded as she left the room. Vistors.

Elspeth turned and walked from the room and made her way to the door. On the stoop she found an older, tired looking man shivering against the cold. Behind him stood a horse harnessed to a trap. The animal stood with its head down, its eyes squinting against the driving wind.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“A message for Mr. Harker from Mrs. Habersham,” he said.

“Thank you.” Elspeth took the note. “Can I offer you anything warm to drink?”

The man shook his head. “No. If I tarry the mistress will only yell.” He lowered his voice. “You know how these rich folk can be.”

She wanted to nod but only smiled.

“Good morning to you, then,” she said and shut the door.

Clifford Harker was still in the kitchen. She handed him the note and made to leave the room again, only to be stopped once more.

“Elspeth, please lay out my dark gray suit and make sure the buttons are polished and shiny. Miss Alder has invited me for afternoon tea should the weather clear. The boys will be staying here. While I am gone I would like you to tend them and clean the ash boxes if you find the time.”

She curtsied. “As you wish.”

The pain was like a constant thorn in her heart. She imagined him sitting in some bright parlor making intelligent conversation about society matters and returning later to find her an ashen mess with a dirty kerchief tied about her head. He’d never asked her to clean the ash boxes before. She wondered now if he was purposefully demeaning her to remind them both of what she was.

She laid out the suit as he’d ordered, hastily shining the buttons. Elspeth was eager to feel loved and valued and only two people in the world gave her that feeling now – Colin and Harry.

She found them in the nursery. Colin was rolling a ball across the floor, but Harry was slumped in a chair by the window, his arms crossed sullenly on the sill. She’d promised herself she’d put some distance between them. But not yet, she told herself. At that moment, the boy needed something only she could provide.

She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching a hand out, she stroked his cheek.

“There now,” she said.

“I hate him.”

“Harry…” She shook her head. “No, lad. Don’t say such things. No you do not.”

“I do,” he said. “He’s pushing you away.”

It was such a profound and insightful statement that for a moment Elspeth was taken aback.

“It’s his right,” she said with finality.

“It’s not his right!” Harry looked at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “What about us. We love you and he doesn’t care. I heard him last night, Elspeth. He’s going to court that lady who came over, isn’t he?”

She sighed. “I can’t answer that, Harry.”

How could she make him understand? It was so difficult. She lowered her voice.

“I’m a servant,” she said. “Your father doesn’t want me to be anything else to you. I wish…” She stopped here, not wanting to influence the boy. “I’m powerless to do anything about this and even if I could it would not be right. Yes, you matter. Yes, your feelings matter.  But so does your father’s place in the community. He’s expected to marry again, but to a suitable woman.”

“You’re suitable!” Harry said.

“Not in his eyes,” she said.

“It’s only because he doesn’t understand!” Harry said, tears spilling from his eyes now. It was hard for Harry to allow himself to cry; Elspeth knew this. It took a lot for a lad who was so much like his father.

“I’ll make him see,” the boy persisted, but Elspeth put her hands on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze, fixing her pained eyes on his.

“No,” she said. “Harry, you musn’t. Promise me you won’t. I know it is hard to understand but if you do your father will only become angry with me. He may punish me, or send me away, for he will think I asked you to intercede.”

“I’ll tell him it was my idea!” the boy countered.

“He won’t believe you.” Elspeth did not want to say the words, but knew she had to.

Harry fell silent and then finally nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “He would not. He never listens to anyone. He didn’t really listened to mother that much. He called her his silly girl.”

Elspeth smiled at this and then moved to the window seat. Pulling Harry into her arms, she wrapped her shawl around them both and hugged him to her.

“On Sunday you will meet Miss Alder,” she said. “When you do nothing will please me more than to know you and your brother were gracious and polite to her. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

She smiled. For a child that was good enough.

***

The snow stopped in early afternoon just after Clifford Harker had finished the closed-door reading lesson with his sons. Elspeth was preparing lunch when he came downstairs dressed in his blue suit. Her heart twisted at the sight of him standing there looking so handsome and she blushed when she realized she’d gazed at him longer than was proper when he appeared in the doorway.