Bound to Serve (8 page)

She stood back, surveying herself a bit longer. She knew by the boys coloring that Caroline had been fairer, and that brought her comfort. She did not want to show up in the church and have everyone look at her and see a ghost. But still…she wondered if Clifford Harker was really prepared to see her in his wife’s clothing.

Elspeth knew she would find answers to this question and that the decision to attend church would either be seen as a sign of submission to his will or an exhibition of nerve. He’d left without her, which meant he’d rescinded his invitation, and the offer of the dress. Would he be angry? She almost paused, but something told her to press on, that the risk was one she had to take.

The morning was somber, the sky a slate gray backdrop for the few leaves that still clung to the branches overhead. The ones that had fallen crunched under her feet and Elspeth counted her steps as she went, trying to keep her mind off her apprehension and the pain in her bottom.

The discomfort had subsided a bit, but enough of it lingered to remind her that the man she served was unwavering in his commitment to see his rules followed. In a world where he could not predict what would or could happen next, Elspeth now realized this man likely clung to what order he could through the running of his household.

The church was in sight now, horses tied and already catnapping in front of the carriages they were hitched to. From inside he small white building Elspeth could hear singing, could imagine row after row of women like Mrs. Habersham sitting there and turning judgemental eyes on her as she walked in. Again she felt the need to turn and run away, but forced herself to keep moving forward past the large sycamore trees, past the little graveyard littered with graves including the one of the woman whose dress she wore. Caroline. Beloved mother.

She walked on, her hands shaking she put it to the wooden door and walked in. The Reverend was just taking the podium and was about to speak as she entered. As Elspeth had feared, all eyes turned to see her and her face grew warm with her self-consciousness. Quickly she scanned the small sanctuary until she saw the faces she was looking for. She focused on them, and then alone, blotting everything else from her vision. Clifford and Harry and Colin were her little islands in a sea of uncertainty, and she moved towards them on a current of hope.

Clifford Harker’s wore no expression, but the boys were all smiles as they tried to discreetly beckon her to their seat. Elspeth moved towards them, ignoring the sounds of whispers as she passed the group of gossipy matrons who held court with the Reverend’s wife.

There was little space in the pew, and as she approached Elspeth was struck by a dread fear:  What if her actions at the house had been the final straw? What if her attendance at church was no only no longer required, but no longer welcome.

She was standing by the pew now, looking down at the man she served, and two little boys she’d come to love. And she held her breath, only daring to exhale when Clifford Harker picked up the Bible and slid over to make a space for her between himself and the boys.

They did not look at one another as she settled in, but beside her a little voice sighed. She felt Colin slide his tiny hand in hers as he turned to his brother, his whispered voice full of wonder.

“She smells like a mommy,” he said, and Elspeth squeezed his hand.

“Quiet,” she said kindly, and turned to concentrate on the sermon she listened to with a lump in her throat.

***

Clifford did not give the scandal-mongering matrons the opportunity to make Elspeth any more uncomfortable than he knew she already was. After the service, he whisked her and the boys out and away towards home. Behind them, the pinched faces crumpled in disappointment at having their quarry escape before they could save it with their veiled insults and innuendo.

“Did you see her?” they asked. “I do believe she was wearing Caroline’s frock? And sitting with the rest of them, bold as brass….”

He could not bring himself to tell her that he’d secretly hoped she’d come on her own; he did not want his servant to know that the incident of that morning had filled him with conflicted feelings. Elspeth’s rejection of the dress had felt like a rejection of Caroline, and by extension a rejection of him and the boys.

Clifford was not an ignorant or emotional man; he knew the feelings he had were irrational and could not bring himself to admit what they meant: he was lonely. He was lonely, and as much as he’d sought to detach himself from this slip of a servant girl, her warmth and easy manner with his children touched him.

He sought to control her as he sought to control himself, hoping that order in one area would mean order in all. But Elspeth was unpredictable, delightfully unpredictable. And while he’d felt a stab of pain at seeing how remarkably well his dead wife’s dress fit her,  as much as it had hurt to hear his son’s comment, he’d also been somewhat soothed by having her there with them, the act itself a willing display of obedience and contrition.

Clifford wanted to tell her, but didn’t think it was proper. So he drove home in silence, listening to his servant talk to his little boys, her tone genuinely caring and maternal as she praised their good behavior during the service and asking if they’d like to help her pick berries for the tarts.

Chapter Seven

Elspeth and the boys picked as many berries as they could carry, and it was a good thing, too. For that night a cold wind came in that howled and howled. She was used to winds like this on the downs of her homeland and knew when it came with a chill it would end berry picking until spring.

The warm glow of candlelight filled the kitchen, the smell of baking and the warmth of the crackling blaze in the kitchen fireplace filled Elspeth with a happy, content feeling as she turned her attention to helping the boys roll out their own individual berry tarts.

“Isn’t cooking woman’s work?’ Clifford had put the question to her from the kitchen door earlier as he had come in to survey his flour-covered sons.

“We’re only helping,” Colin said defensively.

“Mr. James in town is a baker,” Harry replied, and Elspeth looked up in surprise. She’d never heard Clifford’s reserved, eldest son speak up to his father and for a moment she felt a surge of fear.

But Clifford only suppressed a smile before taking a draw from his pipe and winking at his sons.

“So he is,” he said. “And a noble profession it is. And necessary, too, unless one is so fortunate as to have a servant capable of filling the house with the aroma of baking tarts.”

Elspeth felt her face grow warm with pleasure. After her spanking earlier in the day she was pleased to hear the rare compliment from the stoic master of the house.

When Clifford disappeared from the doorway, she turned to find Harry looking at her, wearing a small smile so similar to his father’s that it was uncanny. She knew he was pleased with himself for speaking up, and pleased with his father for not berating him for it.

“So how’s this?” He peeled up a nearly round piece of dough from the floured surface of the table where they working.

“Excellent,” she said, pushing a small metal pan over to him. “Now lay it in here. It’ll be too big but you’ll need to…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I’ll need to pinch around the edges and take the extra off. I watched you.”

“Clever lad,” she said.

“I’m clever, too.” Colin reached over to grab his own pan and placed his less-than-perfect wad of dough into it.

“Good job,” she heard Harry say as she turned to retrieve her tart from the oven. It was good to hear he older lad praise and encourage the younger. Harry was more like his father – quiet and more prone to criticism than not. Elspeth suspected Colin took after his other with his eternal optimism and penchant for seeing the good in almost every situation.

She was turning to put the steaming tart on the sideboard when Harry spoke to her again.

“I read that book you gave me,” he said.

“Book? What book?” Elspeth turned to him and picked up the bowl holding the remainder of the berries.

Harry took the bowl and began spooning the berries into his tart shell. “The one you gave me to read in my head. In church. Remember?”

Elspeth smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Tell me again – how did it begin?”

“Once again there was an angry king who lived by the sea,” Harry said, and Elspeth smiled.

“You remembered!” she exclaimed. “So tell me, Harry. What happened in the story. For I never got to read the book myself.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed pink in the candlelight. He didn’t look up at Elspeth now, but concentrated on the filling the tart as he spoke.

“The queen had died,” he said quietly. “And the two princes were sad and lonely because the king never smiled.”

Elspeth sunk down into the chair by the table.

“Harry…” she began, but he ignored her.

“Then one day a lady came from across the ocean to work in the king’s household. The king brought her there because he was too busy being angry to care for them properly, or to tell them what they needed to hear.”

Elspeth felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, but she did not stop him now.

“The king was not nice to the lady although she worked very hard. Sometimes he became angry at her for no reason and beat her. But she didn’t leave, even though she probably felt like it, because she wanted to stay with the princes. She stayed because she loved them, which is what the princes wanted to hear. And even though the lady didn’t say it with words, she said it by staying by their side.”

The tears slipped down her cheeks now and she felt the words “Oh, Harry…” form in her throat but they could not reach her tongue.

“Then one day the king fell in love with the lady and asked her to be his queen…”

And here Elspeth did stop him, gently putting a hand to his mouth.

“Harry,” she said. “Your story is so lovely.”

He looked at her in alarm. “But it made you cry.”

“It made me cry of happiness,” she said. “But you go to far into it. The lady from across the sea did love the princes, but as for whether she became queen…”

She stopped and smiled. “It would be remarkable indeed, but the king hurt so deeply may find such a happy ending harder to come by. So let’s leave off hear, because I want to think on the lady’s love for the princes. That is happiness enough for me.”

The boy threw himself into her arms then, grasping her around and pulling her tight to him. Elspeth knew he was getting flour all over her frock but did not care. She’d not felt this loved or cared for since before she’d left her homeland. And now Colin was climbing in her lap, too, and nudging his brother aside for attention as a kitten will edge a sibling away from the warmth of its mother’s belly.

Elspeth held them for several long moments, enjoying the sounds of their breathing, the glow of the fire and the happiness in her heart, even as she found herself wishing Clifford could indeed share in it.

But she knew in her heart that what she told the lad was true. A man like Clifford would never choose a country servant like her. This was the best she could expect. And as far as she was concerned, this was more than enough.

***

Clifford came to her the next morning as she was cooking breakfast. Elspeth usually did not see him until he came down after she’d gotten the boys up and dressed. Then and only then would he join them, his critical eye appraising their grooming and table manners.

She startled when she turned to see him standing there.

“Master,” she said, recovering as she put a hand to her chest. “My pardon for being frightened but I didn’t expect to see you so soon in the day. Is all well?”

“Quite,” he said. “I just came to inform you that I plan to intend tutoring you today.”

In all the drama of the day before, Elspeth had quite forgotten Clifford Harker’s plans to instruct her so that she could eventually teach his sons. And after her behavior the previous day, she was surprised and delighted that he was still planning to do it. After all, if he was planning for her to teach his sons, he obviously expected her to be part of his household for a long time.

She could not contain her smile as she curtsied. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” he said gruffly, but Elspeth got the distinct impression that this gruffness was something he somehow felt he must do for her benefit. “I’m doing it so that you can take over my son’s instruction.”

“Yes, you’ve made me aware of that,” she replied with what she hoped was sufficient humility. “And I promise to study hard so that I can become a worthy tutor for both young Harry and Colin.”

“Indeed,” he said. “But the added responsibility of your lessons will not alleviate you from your other duties. I expect them to be performed fully and completely.”

His eyes were on her, as if he were expecting some sort of protest. Then when none came his face softened a bit as the stern features grew more relaxed.

“Very well then,” he said. “After breakfast set the boys about something to busy themselves in the parlor. You shall take your lessons with me in my study.”

“Yes master,” she said, and then he was gone.

“Then the king fell in love with the lady….” Harry’s words came drifting through her subconscious and she felt a sudden guilty horror.

“Don’t,” she told herself sternly. “Don’t you dare even entertain such a ridiculous notion. You don’t even know him. And besides, you yourself told Harry that men like Master Harker never choose women like you as wives. If the townsfolk object to my wearing Caroline’s dress, what would they say if he took me to wife?”

She pushed the thought from her mind and stirred the porridge bubbling over the fire before removing it and placing it on the stones. Carefully, she ladled portions into four bowls, topping them with a small dollop of cream and berries before setting them on the table to cool.

The boys objected to being roused from their beds until Elspeth told them if they didn’t rise soon the sun would melt the traces of frost left on the windows overnight.