Summerset Abbey (16 page)

Prudence hurried down the stairs and into the coffee-scented warmth of Cook’s domain. Cook grunted and shoved a cup of tea at her. This must mean she liked her, as everyone else had to get her own tea. Prudence wasn’t sure why this crotchety old woman had taken to her, but figured it had something to do with Prudence’s habit of helping Susie whenever she could. Cook sniped at the scullery maid constantly, but always held back a bit of extra pudding from the employer’s meals and slipped it to Susie on the sly.

Prudence smiled in gratitude and was putting her apron on to help Susie when the bell board rang.

“Someone’s up early,” Hortense said with a yawn. Automatically, everyone looked to the board to see who it was. The personal servants, Hortense, Prudence, and Katz, the Earl’s valet, were usually the only ones called this early. The footmen also arrived early in case a member of the family wished to go riding before breakfast.

Andrew nodded toward Prudence, his characteristically friendly smile brightening his face. “That would be you, I’m afraid.”

Checking the board, she realized it was Rowena. What was she doing up so early? And why was she ringing a bell for her? Her good spirits dissipated at her sister
summoning
her to her side.

Folding the apron back up, she set it to one side and picked up a silver tray. Cook had already readied it with a pot of tea, cups, and the cream Rowena couldn’t do without. Then Prudence headed up the stairs she had just come down.

Rowena was still in her nightclothes when Prudence walked in. Her long, dark hair hung down her back in thick waves. She paced the room, agitation evident in the set of her jaw. She pounced the moment Prudence entered the room.

“You must go to town for me.”

Without answering, Prudence set the tea tray down on a small gilt table near the bed. Something about Rowena’s tone bothered her. She sounded almost demanding. “I brought you your tea” was all Prudence said.

“I’m afraid I was very rude to someone and you need to deliver a note for me right away. It might be too late already.”

Prudence raised a brow. Rowena had yet to say please. The girls had begun to fall into an easy routine: Prudence helped them dress as she had always done, and picked up their rooms for them, but she thought she did so mostly to stay as far away from the other servants for as long as possible. But now Rowena was coming perilously close to treating her like a true maid.

Rowena ignored the tea and didn’t bother to say thank you. Instead, she held an envelope out to Prudence. “Here. Take this to the hospital and make sure it is delivered to Jonathon Wells. He should still be there. If not, try to find out where he is, and if he’s left town, get his address and I can send it by post.”

Prudence looked at the envelope. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, yes. It’s early. Have one of the footmen drive you.”

Prudence frowned. Rowena’s lovely complexion was sallow, and dark circles bruised her eyes. While Victoria seemed stronger here at Summerset, Rowena had become more listless and indifferent to what Prudence and her sister were doing. She slept a great deal and rarely looked at Prudence when she spoke. Whatever this was all about, it evidently meant a great deal to her. Prudence hadn’t seen her this worked up in weeks. So in spite of her resentment at Rowena treating her like a servant, she took the envelope without argument. “I’ll do it after I see to Victoria,” she said. “Now drink your tea. Shall I tell Cook you are ill and would prefer to have your breakfast brought up on a tray?”

Rowena gave her a half smile and sank into a chair next to the table that held her tea, as if she couldn’t stand any longer. “That would be nice, Prudence, thank you. I am so very tired. I feel as if I could sleep for a week.”

Prudence slipped the envelope into her pocket as she left the room. Victoria was already dressed and reading in a chair when Prudence tiptoed into her room. Prudence smiled. “What are you doing up and dressed so early?”

“Susie helped me dress. Any chance you have my tea?”

“I’m having Susie bring up your breakfast. Rowena doesn’t feel well and I have to run an errand for her.”

Victoria stood. “What’s wrong with Ro?”

A note of anxiety undercut her voice. After Sir Philip’s sudden death, Prudence didn’t blame her.

“I think she’s just tired.”
And missing her father
. Prudence felt sorry for Rowena and the burdens she carried, but she couldn’t help but feel, at the core of her being, that exhaustion and grief shouldn’t be enough to explain away how Rowena had begun to treat her. Her stomach twisted.
Or to excuse it.

Victoria chewed on her lip. “I’ll make her feel better.”

“I know you will.”

Prudence made up the bed quickly after Victoria had left and then hurried to her own quarters to get her coat and hat before heading back down to the kitchen.

Andrew was still drinking his tea and eating his breakfast when she arrived.

“Could you please take me into town? Rowena has an errand she needs me to run,” Prudence asked him.

“
Miss
Rowena,” corrected Cook from the stove.

“Miss Rowena and Miss Victoria will be eating their breakfast in Miss Rowena’s room.” She turned to Susie. “Can you please take it up to them while I’m gone? I should be back by the time they need to dress, but if not, could you please draw their baths and ask them if they need anything?”

She heard an intake of disapproval from one of the housemaids, but Susie blushed with pleasure at the responsibility.

Prudence’s chest grew tight. How sad it was that something as inconsequential as this small task could give someone so much pleasure.

“Do the girls need anything special?” Cook asked.

Prudence shook her head. “Whatever you’re making for the family is fine.”

Andrew clapped a chauffeur’s cap onto his head and shrugged into an overcoat hanging on a hook. With the change in cap and coat, he had transformed himself from a footman into a driver. “I’ll get the motorcar ready and meet you outside the door.”

Minutes later she was in the auto, with Andrew tucking a driving blanket around her legs. “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“That’s too nice of a dress to ruin with mud spatters,” he said.

She cast a glance at him as he drove. He was young, probably not much older than Rowena, with kind green eyes, a strong chin, and nondescript brown hair. His attractiveness, and he was attractive, lay in his overall kindly nature and sense of humor. He would look more comfortable in farm clothes than in the brilliant red of his livery, she realized.

“Did you grow up around here?” she asked to break the silence.

He nodded. “My parents own their own farm closer to Hollings than Buxton. Mr. Cairns was visiting some family out that way and noticed how tall I was. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go into service, but with three older brothers, there was little room on the farm. This will tide me over for the time being. I hope to own my own land someday. What about you?”

“What about me?” Prudence was evasive.

“The whole staff is talking about you. Your manners are too highborn to be servant class, and since you stopped wearing uniforms, your clothes are too nice as well. You’re a real mystery girl.”

A sudden image of Lord Billingsly telling her she was a mystery popped into her head. She couldn’t tell him who she was, but somehow she felt safe with Andrew. Did that mean she was more comfortable with the servant class than with the Buxtons and their friends? Did it really matter? “My mother was Victoria and Rowena’s governess. Before that she was a housemaid at Summerset. But none of that mattered in London. We girls did everything together and Sir Philip raised me as one of his own.”

“So why are you their lady’s maid now?”

“Because the Earl doesn’t want to show hospitality to a girl who is obviously from the lower classes.” Bitterness crept into her voice. “Rowena told him I was Victoria’s companion and their lady’s maid in order to keep me with them.”

Andrew snorted. “Not sure I would like that at all.”

“I don’t,” she admitted. “But Rowena and Vic had just lost their father. They didn’t want to lose me, too.”

“Why didn’t you all just stay in London?”

Prudence shrugged. “The Earl insisted. Apparently, Sir Philip didn’t own our home, the Earl does.”

Andrew whistled. “That’s tough on you.”

A thought niggled. “You won’t gossip about this, will you? I would hate for Ro and Vic to be the topic of the servants’ conversation.”

He laughed. “Nothing you can do about that. It seems they don’t have much else to do except gossip about their betters.”

“They aren’t their betters,” she said shortly.

“You know that and I know that, but they certainly don’t seem to. Nah, you have nothing to worry about from me. I’ll keep your secrets.”

He smiled at her from across the seat and she smiled, her heart warming. She felt as if she’d found another friend, someone she could relate to. They reached the edge of town. “Where do you need to go?”

“The hospital. Do you know where that is?”

He nodded and turned down a narrow street. She took the envelope out of her pocket, wondering about it. How did Rowena know Jonathon Wells? Was he an old friend? She’d never mentioned him before.

“Do you know a Jonathon Wells?” she asked Andrew suddenly. If she’d been a real servant, perhaps she wouldn’t have asked, but she wasn’t. She was Rowena’s friend, her sister, and she was concerned.

Andrew frowned, trying to think. “I’ve heard of the Wells family, of course. Everyone has. But I don’t know a Jonathon.”

“Who are the Wells family?”

“Gentry. Landowners. Their estate abuts the Buxtons’. I guess long ago the Buxtons gave the Wellses a sizable piece of land for service in some war. There’s bad blood between them now, but I’m not sure why. I never paid too much attention. I was always more concerned with the price of sheep and cattle.” He gave her a sheepish smile and she decided she liked him very much.

“That sounds reasonable to me. I shouldn’t like to concern myself with gossip about the highborn when taking care of my own family.”

He nodded and pulled up to the front of the hospital. “Here you are. Do you need me to wait for you?”

“No, you can go ahead and go to the post office. I will walk around a bit until you get back.”

They agreed to meet in front of the hospital in an hour, which would give Prudence plenty of time to walk over to the library and back after she dropped the message off. She wanted to talk to that old man again.

“May I help you?” asked a young woman sitting behind an enormous desk when she walked in. In the corner a young man sat on a bench, reading a newspaper.

“I have a message for Mr. Jonathon Wells,” Prudence told her, holding out the envelope.

The secretary took the envelope. “May I have your name, please?”

“Oh, the message isn’t from me. It’s from . . . my friend.”

The woman smiled. “I need to know who delivered it as well. Policy.”

Prudence felt foolish. “Oh, I’m sorry. Prudence Tate.”

She heard a rustle of papers behind her.

“Would you like to wait for a reply?” the woman asked as she got up from her seat.

“Oh.” Rowena had said nothing about that. “Yes. I suppose so.”

“You may take a seat.”

Prudence turned and moved to the bench. A young man with dark blond hair was staring at her quizzically and she wondered whether she’d forgot a button or had something on her face.

“Did you say your name was Tate?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. Prudence Tate.” Then she realized what his question could mean and her heart sped up.

He stood and held out his hand. “Mine is, too. Wesley Tate. I thought I knew all the Tates in this area, but I think I would have remembered you.”

She faltered, her manners deserting her for a moment. This young man might actually be her kinsman. “My mother and my father were born here,” she said, regaining her voice. “So we might actually be family. My father died when I was a baby. I don’t even know his name but my mother’s name was Alice. I don’t know her maiden name.”

His brows shot up over eyes so blue, they looked as if they had been torn from the sky. A lump formed in her throat. Like her mother’s eyes. “Wait. Do you mean your mother was Alice Tate?”

“Did you know her?”

He froze, his hand still in hers. “No. I didn’t know her.”

Prudence’s heart fell. The look on his face was very similar to the librarian’s expression when she had mentioned her mother. But then Wesley continued.

“She moved away when I was just a baby.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “My father is her older brother. That would make us cousins, cousin.”

Prudence had to look away, she was so overcome by emotion. Gratitude and hope mingled with relief. She did have family. She had always thought of Ro and Vic as her family but in the last few weeks, everything had turned upside down and she no longer knew who her family was. With Rowena so remote and treating her more and more like a servant, Prudence felt more alienated than ever. Maybe now she had another chance at a real family.

She took a deep, trembling breath. “It’s very nice to meet you, Wesley. I can’t even tell you—” She stopped as the emotion caught in her throat. He led her over to a bench.

“Here. Let’s sit down. You look as if you’re about to faint.”

She sat gratefully. “I’m not usually the fainting type.”

They sat, their knees pointing toward each other. “The family rarely mentions your mother. All I knew is that she moved to London when she was seventeen. I didn’t even know she had a child.”

Prudence frowned. “You didn’t know she had a baby? That’s strange. I was born here. We moved to London after my father died.” Her breath suddenly sucked in as the realization hit her. The look on Wesley’s face told her it had dawned on him as well. Tate was her mother’s maiden’s name. And it was Prudence’s name as well. Her cheeks grew hot.

Her mother had never been married.

She didn’t even try to pretend that he didn’t understand as well. She looked down at her hands trembling in her lap as her world tilted and then righted itself. She tried to fold her fingers together but they wouldn’t quite connect. She swallowed. “I see. That would explain why my mother never took me home for the holidays.”