Chapter Three
Emma tried to concentrate on the litany of instructions that Miss Morgan spouted as they walked along but, when they entered the house through a secluded door round the back, she found her mind wandering as they passed through the kitchen and saw all the servants scurrying around like mice as they desperately tried to get the dinner ready on time.
"Always busy in here. Now over there on the left is the room in which you will have your meals. Your fellow servants will tell you the times. Here is Mr Jamieson's room. He is the butler and therefore the most important servant apart from myself," she announced with a grand sense of her own importance. A green baize door loomed ahead and Miss Morgan paused just before it and stared at Emma with her unsettling grey eyes before stating, "Now through here is the main house and the family quarters. As servants, we need to be seen and not heard. There when we are needed and like statues when we are not. Do you understand, Fletcher?"
Emma nodded, excitement coursing through her at the chance of getting into the main part of the house and then the door opened and she followed Miss Morgan through into luxury and light. They emerged in a grand hall which was richly carpeted and, after a lightning tour of the dining room and drawing room, Emma followed the housekeeper upstairs, treading lightly up the grand sweeping staircase as Miss Morgan informed her that in future she must use the back stairs.
"The family bedrooms and guest ones are on this level. Miss Amanda's is down that corridor and you will attend her after dinner now as you got here too late to be of any use in helping her dress. In the meantime, I will take you up to your room in the eaves."
As she finished speaking, an imposing-looking gentlemen, clad in a resplendent waistcoat that shimmered in the setting sun's rays, strolled towards them and the housekeeper dipped into a faultless curtsey. Emma tried to follow suit but hers was nowhere near as good and she kept her eyes down in shame as the man stopped and spoke to Miss Morgan.
"I gather this is Miss Amanda's new maid, Miss Morgan?"
"Indeed it is, Lord Talbot. Fletcher is her name."
"Hmm, pretty little thing, I see. Such lovely auburn locks. I am sure that Miss Amanda will have some fun with her, Miss Morgan."
"Yes sir."
A hand reached out and cupped Emma's chin and she found herself forced to look up into his dark blue eyes, the colour of the deep ocean. She took in his strong chin and well-built physique and judged him to be in his late forties before he freed her from his grasp as a beautiful lady appeared by his side.
"Ah, Catherine. You are looking particularly ravishing tonight!"
He took her hand and they walked down the twisting staircase together, her long gown billowing out around her shapely ankles as they headed for the dining room.
"Lord Talbot and his wife, Fletcher. Now follow me and be quick as I have other things to do than to waste all my time showing you around!"
At the top of the narrow, winding stairs was a gloomy corridor and doorways loomed off either side. Pausing at the second door, Miss Morgan knocked once peremptorily then pushed it open and stepped inside. The small room, barely four yards by three, had three beds crammed into it and Emma stifled a gasp of dismay at the basic conditions.
"The far one is yours so I am going to leave you to make it properly and then you can go down and get your dinner in the servant's quarters. I assume you can remember how to get back there?"
Emma nodded, not wanting to be a pain even though she wasn't that certain of the way and then she sat down on the thin mattress and looked at the dusty room as the housekeeper left, black boots clicking importantly on the wooden floorboards as she made her way back down the corridor. It wasn't exactly what she had been expecting, thought Emma in disappointment, but she had no choice but to get on with it or admit defeat and run away and the latter was something that her parents had drummed into her was not acceptable. Sighing, she forced herself up and then started to unfold the sheets for her bed, trying to do the best job that she could as she tried to remember all her mother had taught her about hospital corners. After a bit of a struggle, Emma finished by tucking in her blanket and then, after casting a last glance around the room which would be hers to share for the next fortnight, she headed down the servants' staircase and back into the dim, heated underworld of the kitchens.
It was daunting to venture into the vast room with so many people still racing about and Emma edged quietly through as she headed for the servants' dining room. She found it eventually and sidled in and stood there for a few moments before someone looked up, spotted her and then there came that familiar silence that spreads like oil over the surface of the conversation, stifling it into submission and she blushed as every eyes suddenly became fixed upon her.
"You must be Fletcher, the new maid," stated a tall gentleman in a dark frock coat and she realised that he must be Mr Jamieson, the butler. "Chambers and Head, Fletcher will be sharing your room so make some space for her to sit with you and you can introduce yourselves once we have said Grace."
Hurrying into her place, Emma slid onto the oaken bench and then sat up straight like the others before bowing her head and closing her eyes as the butler intoned thanks for the food that they were about to be served. The smell was quite appetising and Emma opened her eyes and suddenly felt rather hungry as serving dishes were placed on the long table by two sweating maids whose aprons were covered in food stains. A buzz of conversation broke out as portions were dished out with the butler naturally being first to receive his helping.
Emma had to wait for some time but in that period she found Hannah Chambers and Amelia Head introducing themselves as they had been requested to do. Hannah was a tiny girl, barely five foot tall, blonde and with the most appealing blue eyes while Amelia was taller, willowy and had chestnut hair and brown eyes. Whilst they told her all about what she would have to do, neither of them would tell her much about themselves and they just seemed to skate over her enquiries about what they did normally.
"Ssshh, stop asking," hissed Hannah eventually, "or you will get us all into trouble and Mr Jamieson and Miss Morgan both have a devilish arm on them, Emma!"
Wondering what difference that made but not wanting to annoy her room mates so early in their acquaintance, Emma piped down and concentrated on eating the stew and then the apple crumble which followed. Both were very good and she found herself feeling pleasantly full as she stood up and left the table at the end of the meal, following her two new friends back through the kitchen and up the servants' stairs to her new quarters.
"Where is the bathroom?" she asked as the other two girls sat down on their beds and they looked up at her and giggled.
"Bathroom? There is a washroom along the corridor with a couple of sinks in it but proper baths are taken downstairs once a week in the kitchen. Girls on Sunday nights and the men on Fridays," remarked Hannah.
