The Lady's Maid (6 page)

‘And I’m certain that my happiness comes second to a new roof for Damerell Manor. Pa may work in a bank, but we’re paupers compared to some of the county families.’

‘Sir Hector owns the bank, and you’re not exactly living in poverty.’

Josie held up her hand. ‘Correction. The Board of Governors own more than half of the shares. Pa told me so himself. He’s always saying that he’s got one foot in Carey Street.’

‘Then accept Harry Challenor if money means so much to you.’ For a moment Kate had let her guard drop. She had not meant to speak sharply and she bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Josie. I spoke out of turn.’

Suddenly serious, Josie gave her a searching look. ‘What’s the matter? You can’t keep anything from me, Kate. Have the servants been beastly to you? There’s something wrong, I know.’

‘Pa had a letter from Molly. Grandpa Coggins died in his sleep two days ago.’

Josie leapt to her feet and enveloped Kate in a warm embrace. ‘I’m sorry. I know you loved the old man, and he was always good to me whenever I visited the farm. Has anyone told Papa? I’m sure he’ll be grieved at the news.’

Kate shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Pa said he was going to ask for permission to go down to Dorset so that he can sort out the funeral arrangements. It’s not fair to leave it all to Sam.’

‘Of course not, although I’m sure Sam is more than capable, but he’s not a blood relation.’ Josie slipped off her silk wrap. ‘Help me into my gown. I’ll speak to Papa before the guests arrive.’ She held her arms up to allow Kate to slide the ivory satin gown over her head without disturbing her coiffure, remaining
motionless
while Kate did up the tiny mother of pearl buttons at the back of the garment. When she had finished, Josie turned to examine her reflection in the cheval mirror, adjusting the waterfall of Brussels lace that fell from a décolletage to her waist. ‘My pearls,’ she said, pointing to a leather jewel case on the dressing table. ‘The necklace and earrings. And my long cream satin gloves; you’ll find them in the top right hand drawer.’

Kate fastened the treble row of milky pearls around Josie’s slender neck. ‘I’ll never get used to all this, Josie. Perhaps you should have someone who’s trained to be a lady’s maid.’

‘Nonsense. I’ll teach you. There’s nothing to it. Remember the days when we used to sneak into Mama’s bedchamber and try on some of her ball gowns, even though they were far too large for us? It’s just the same, only now the dresses are made to fit me and the pearls are mine. Although I must admit I would love to have some emeralds. Green is my colour, don’t you agree?’

‘I think perhaps rubies would suit you better.’

Josie frowned and her red lips pursed into an ominous pout. ‘You must never disagree with me on a point of fashion or taste. I know exactly what I want and need, and now I’m going to buttonhole my father and tell him to let Coggins go to Dorset.’ She moved towards the doorway, leaving a trail of gardenia perfume in her wake. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, a slow smile spreading across her face. ‘We’ll go too. I’ll tell Papa that I will represent the
family
at the funeral, as is only right and proper, and that you must accompany me. After all, it is your grandpa who is deceased and I can’t travel without a lady’s maid. This way I can escape the attentions of hateful Harry. It’s all coming together wonderfully well.’ She breezed out of the room leaving Kate to clear up a mess of discarded silk stockings, soiled undergarments and a dressing table littered with hairpins, pots of rouge, cut-crystal perfume bottles and combs.

Kate set everything in order before hurrying downstairs to take instructions from Toop, who had the footmen and maids lined up in the dining room while he inspected the covers on the huge mahogany table. Lady Damerell had adopted the relatively new fashion for dining
à la russe
, which consisted of several removes, rather than dining in the old style
à la française
, where all the dishes, both savoury and sweet, were put out at the same time. Cook had taken a while to come round to the idea and Toop had complained that there was insufficient cutlery to cope with the current fad, but Lady Damerell had insisted on ordering the recently invented fish knives and forks, which included special forks for oysters; and to confuse matters even more there were also different forks for salad and cakes, which according to her ladyship they simply must have. Sir Hector, it was said by his valet, had borne the cost of the silverware without complaint, and dinner parties at the house in Bedford Square had become more frequent. Hickson had put it about that Lady Damerell was now the most sought after hostess
outside
Mayfair, or would be if Sir Hector did not insist on retiring to the country while the London season was in full swing.

Even though she had been low down in the hierarchy below stairs, Kate had been aware of all this going on, and now she was seeing the revolutionary changes for herself as Toop went round to each place setting with his measuring stick, making minor adjustments until he was satisfied that everything was perfect. He spotted a glass that was not polished to diamond brightness and berated the senior footman soundly. He then detailed each of their duties, insisting that the guests should be served quickly and efficiently and in such a way that those waiting on the table were to all intents invisible. Kate was familiar with the military precision with which Toop instructed his staff but she had never actually served at table, and she was extremely nervous.

When the guests started to arrive it was Toop who ushered them into the square entrance hall with the cantilevered flight of stairs rising elegantly to the first floor. Huge urns of hothouse gardenias and clove-scented carnations filled the air, mingling with the perfume worn by the ladies and the liberal amounts of cologne used by their escorts. The newly installed gaslight fizzed and popped in the gasolier, Toop’s pride and joy, which was lowered to the floor daily and polished until the brass gleamed like gold.

Kate’s first task that evening was to take the gentlemen’s cloaks, hats and gloves while the senior chambermaid saw to the ladies. She stood at a
respectful
distance, keeping her gaze lowered as they shed their outer garments, only allowed to speak if anyone addressed a remark to her, which no one did until the last guest arrived. She averted her eyes quickly as she recognised Harry Challenor. Little thinking that he would remember her or if he did that he would say anything, she could hardly believe it when he walked past Toop and came to a halt in front of her. ‘Why, if it isn’t little Miss Nobody.’

She held her breath, hoping that he would go away if she did not respond, but the shiny leather shoes remained in her line of vision, stubbornly immovable. She knew that Toop was watching her every move and she kept her head down.

‘You can’t have forgotten me, Miss Nobody. We met this morning at the Soho Bazaar.’

She shot him a glance beneath her lashes. ‘Please go away. You’ll get me into trouble.’

He clicked his heels together and inclined his head in a formal bow. ‘Certainly. But at least tell me your name. I like to know to whom I’m speaking.’

‘Coggins, sir.’

‘That’s a damned ugly name for a pretty girl.’

Toop cleared his throat. ‘Would you care to follow me to the drawing room, sir?’

‘In a minute, my man. I’ve asked this young lady a perfectly reasonable question. Is there any reason why she should not answer it?’

‘No, sir.’

Kate could imagine Toop grinding his teeth in annoyance, and suddenly in spite of everything she
wanted
to laugh. She wished that Josie were here to share the joke. She raised her head and looked Harry in the eye. ‘My name is Kate Coggins, sir.’

‘Kate. That’s better. It suits you.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

He put the fancy box he was holding on a side table while he divested himself of his gloves, cloak and top hat, which he placed in Kate’s outstretched hands. ‘Thank you, Kate. I’m much obliged.’ He picked up the box and turned to Toop. ‘I’m ready to join the others now. Lead on.’

Toop marched off with his head held high, and having given Kate the full benefit of his charming smile Harry strolled after him. She was left holding his opera cloak and hat, and a pair of the softest peccary leather gloves she had ever seen. His garments had retained some of his body heat and smelt of lemon scented verbena, expensive pomade and just a trace of a Havana cigar. She could only guess that the box, which obviously contained expensive chocolates, was a gift for Josie. She suspected that Harry Challenor was living up to his reputation of being a confirmed lady’s man and a hopeless flirt, but she had glimpsed a hint of steel beneath the well-mannered charm. She could not help feeling that Josie had met her match.

Dinner passed without incident. The staff moved swiftly and silently, serving and clearing without mishap, and Kate was relieved not to have disgraced herself. Josie was apparently on her best behaviour, although she drank a little too much wine and instead of treating Harry with disdain she flirted with him
quite
outrageously. Kate had witnessed Josie’s sudden changes of mood so often in the past that she was not surprised by this about turn, but she could see that Lady Damerell was completely fooled by her daughter’s behaviour. She positively glowed with satisfaction, and Kate suspected that this was part of Josie’s plan. She wanted to lull both parents into a false sense of security so that when she asked if she might depart for their country estate earlier than planned they would willingly accede to her wishes. Despite the melancholy that gripped her heart, Kate had to smile to herself and secretly congratulate Josie on her cunning.

Flushed with the apparent success of her dinner party, Lady Damerell rose to her feet and invited the ladies to join her in the withdrawing room. Following Toop’s instructions, Kate went to serve them with coffee. She waited until they were seated, watching with a degree of curiosity as this was her first opportunity to see how the wives of wealthy men behaved when their husbands were not present. The ladies took their time arranging their voluminous skirts, each of them chattering nineteen to the dozen as if they had been suddenly released from the circumspect behaviour expected of them by their spouses. They reminded Kate forcibly of a flock of starlings coming home to roost.

Josie took a seat on the sofa beside her mother, clutching a box of Cadbury’s chocolates. ‘Look what Harry gave me, Mama. Do try one.’ She took the lid off the box and offered it to her mother. ‘Wasn’t that sweet of him?’

Kate almost dropped the coffee pot as she filled the cups set out on a silver tray. She glanced at Josie and looked away quickly as Josie winked at her, grinning wickedly. She knew then for certain that this was simply one of Josie’s ruses in order to get her own way.

‘He’s a handsome young man.’ Mrs Horton, the plump wife of one of Sir Hector’s banking associates, eyed the box greedily. She had already eaten three desserts and Kate could almost hear her corsets creaking as they strained to contain her bulging flesh.

Josie leapt to her feet and wafted the box in front of her. ‘Do try one, ma’am.’

Mrs Horton’s piggy eyes gleamed. ‘Just the one then, dear.’ She selected the largest and popped it into her mouth.

Josie handed the chocolates round to the other ladies, who declared that they could not eat another morsel while taking their time selecting their favourite centre. Kate served the coffee and then stood back, hands folded in front of her, waiting until her services were needed.

‘Might we hear wedding bells ringing in the near future?’ Miss Bourne asked, trilling with laughter. Unmarried herself but a notorious matchmaker, well known to the servants for complaining about anything and everything, she had apparently found no fault as yet but was determined to make at least one person blush.

Kate stared into space, hiding a smile. It would take a sharper person than Miss Bourne to embarrass Josie, who was patently enjoying the situation.

‘It’s a little early to speculate,’ Lady Damerell said hastily.

‘You were always one to speak first and think later, Miriam Bourne.’ Mrs Horton glared at her over the top of her lorgnette. ‘Spare the girl’s blushes.’

Miss Bourne bridled visibly. ‘Harry Challenor is a good catch. Any girl would think herself lucky to attract his attention.’

‘And I do,’ Josie said smugly. ‘But I don’t want to appear too forward.’ She took her seat at her mother’s side. ‘That’s why I think it would be politic if I were to go to the country soon, Mama. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so they say.’

Lady Damerell almost dropped her coffee cup, spilling some on her purple shot-silk gown. ‘I don’t know about that, my love.’

‘Out of sight, out of mind,’ Mrs Horton added, shaking her head.

The two ladies who had so far been silent nodded in agreement, but Miss Bourne sat upright, waving her spoon at Josie. ‘I think that is an excellent plan, my dear. Keep the young man dangling. There are many eager unmarried girls out there, and we all know that it’s the gentlemen who like to do the hunting. The excitement is all in the chase, as anyone here who has ever followed the hounds will know.’ She glanced round with a superior smile as if she was well aware that none of the women present had ever taken part in blood sports. ‘I,’ she added grandly, ‘used to hunt when I was a girl.’

‘But she never caught a husband.’ The more senior
of
the two who had so far not contributed to the conversation spoke in a stage whisper, which Miss Bourne affected not to hear.

‘That put you in your place, Miriam,’ Mrs Horton said, chuckling.

Josie turned to her mother with a pleading smile. ‘Mama? May I go to Dorset tomorrow with Coggins? Papa gave him leave to make the funeral arrangements and now I have a maid of my own it would be perfectly proper for me to travel with them.’

A worried frown puckered Lady Damerell’s forehead. ‘I don’t know what your father would say to that, my love. We’ll need the carriage when we travel next week. Can’t you wait until then?’