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“CAN YOU BE CERTAIN of that, Ellie?” I asked after we three had exited the assembly rooms and wearily climbed into the Dandridge carriage and it was lumbering off down King Street on that fog-shrouded night.
The hour was late, far later than I had hoped when we finally departed the sweltering assembly rooms, but Hannah had insisted upon staying until the musicians announced there would be no more music that night, and then made good on their word by putting away their instruments. Still bright-eyed and eager to hop and skip her way through another set, Hannah was the only one of us to express regret that the magical evening had drawn to a close. Even Mrs. Drummond-Burrell and her party had bid us good night an hour or so earlier, after inquiring if we’d be attending the Holland ball the following Friday evening, to which I smiled and rather wearily nodded assent.
Now, as Hannah stared dreamily from the coach window into the dark night, illuminated here and there by blurry light coming from the gas lamps on every corner, Ellie quietly answered the question I had put to her.
“I am quite certain it was he, Miss Abbott. If you recall, the man took a good long while searching out your name on the guest list, which provided me with sufficient time in which to study his features.”
“How inordinately odd,” I murmured. “I confess I cannot think what to make of it.”
“Nor can I, Miss Abbott,” Ellie replied. “But, I am certain the man behind the window at Almack’s is the same man who was following us about Town that day. I am quite certain of it,” she repeated.
At length, I concluded I had no choice but to add this oddity to the growing list of peculiarities piling one atop another since we arrived at the house on Marsh Lane.
Upon finally entering the dimly-lit foyer there, we were greeted by the sight of a footman, his chin resting upon his chest where he sat just inside the front door. The disturbance caused not by the three of us entering the house, but by Hannah’s excited chatter as we walked past him, roused the fellow. Ignoring the sleepy footman, I was pleased that the repaired steps on the staircase no longer posed a threat to the life and limb of any one of us as we climbed upward.
Upon reaching my bedchamber, however, I was alarmed when I did not find Tilda anywhere in sight. Where could she be? Before flinging aside my reticule and gloves, I hastened to the bell pull and gave it a smart tug. It was close on two of the clock in the morning, surely she was not still below stairs interviewing the servants as I had requested.
Thoughts of my horrendous experience a scant few months ago when Tilda went missing at Montford Hall sprang to mind. I certainly did not wish to conduct an exhaustive search of this rambling gray stone monstrosity for my lost maid. Relief washed over me when, in moments, Tilda entered the room, her limp blonde hair a fright, her frock wrinkled, and streaks of dirt visible upon her cheeks.
“Tilda! What have you been doing?” I cried.
Already she was untying her soiled apron. “I been a-workin’, miss,” she replied, a bit too cheerfully, thought I. Removing her apron, she began to unbutton her dress even as she kicked off her boots.
I had begun to undo the fastenings on my gown, but, of course, could not reach the tiny buttons marching down my backside.
“Let me help you, miss,” said my congenial little maid.
“What has occupied you to such a late hour?” I asked again.
“Well, I went down to the servant’s hall like you wanted me to. Hadn’t been there more’n a couple of minutes when Norris sticks her head in and begins to fire off questions at me.”
“Norris! Why would she . . .? What sorts of questions?”
“Well, she starts off sayin’ it was clear I was gettin’ above meself; that one o’ the maids overheard Miss Hannah tell Miss Ellie that at Medley Park I was nothin’ more’n a simple housemaid. Then, you took me in and declared I was to be yer’ lady’s maid.”
Still grinning, Tilda helped me from my gown and crossed the room to hang it in the clothespress before she returned, my nightrail draped over an arm. “After that, Norris wanted to know how long I been with you. I fibbed a bit miss; said I’d been yer’ lady’s maid close on to a twelvemonth. Sorry to tell a falsehood, but she was gettin’ my back up.”
“That is quite all right, Tilda, I would have said the same had she put the question to me. Did she demand to know anything further?”
“Well, she said since I was no better’n a housemaid, that when you was away, I had to do what she said and if I didn’t, she’d see I got sacked!”
My jaw dropped. “That is pure rubbish and I will not have it!”
“No matter, miss.” Tilda grinned. “Wait ‘til you see what I found.”
“Found?” My brow furrowed as I drew on my nightrail and virtually floated to the dressing table to commence unpinning my hair.
“After Norris said I was gettin’ above meself, she said that afore I went to bed tonight, I had to help Josie clear everythin’ out of Miss Cordelia’s bedchamber and we was to clean the room top to bottom . . .”
I spun around on the bench. “You spent the entire evening cleaning Miss Cordelia’s bedchamber?”
Tilda nodded. “Norris said if the room weren’t spotless that I had to stay up all night and scrub it ‘til it was. Make no mistake, miss, there ain’t a speck of dust in that chamber now.”
“Tilda you are not a housemaid and I will not have you performing drudgery of that sort! I shall take Norris to task over this and . . .”
“It’s all right, miss. After Josie and me’d been workin’ a while, Norris comes back in and was barkin’ orders at me and her like we was no better’n dung on her shoe, then when she left, Josie was madder ‘n spit. So, she starts tellin’ me all sorts o’ secrets ‘bout the Dandridge family. I didn’t have to ask nobody about nothin’, miss!”
“Well, I suppose that is some concession. Still, I intend to put Norris in her place. She has no right to order you about. I’ll not have it!”
“Perhaps, that ain’t such a good idea, miss. She could take it in her head to send me packin’ when you ain’t here, then you’d never find me.”
“You are not obliged to do as that woman says, Tilda! You are a lady’s maid, not a housemaid. As things now stand, you will be here alone a good many nights. On Friday evening next, the girls and I will be attending the Holland ball.”
“I knows that’s the way o’ things, miss, but . . .” Reaching for her soiled apron, she dug into the pocket and withdrew a small object. “Just have a look at what I got!” She handed the item off to me.
My brow knit as I studied it. “Why, this looks to be a . . . it appears to be a painted image of a young Miss Cordelia.” Indeed, the gilt-edged miniature pictured a pretty doe-eyed miss clutching a bouquet of flowers. The bodice of her dress clearly bespoke the fashion of a long ago era, a criss-crossed kerchief tucked into the neckline of a patterned paisley frock.
“Turn the paintin’ over, miss. Read what it says on the backside.”
I did so and read aloud: “Miss Cordelia Rose Palmer on the day she wed her beloved Mr. Daschell Dandridge.” For the second time that night, my jaw dropped as I raised wide eyes to Tilda’s twinkling blue ones.
“Miss Cordelia was wed to Mr. Dandridge? But, could it be the same Mr. Dandridge to whom the current Mrs. Dandridge claims was her husband?”
Her blue eyes round, Tilda nodded. “Bald truth is, miss, the old lady we know as Mrs. Dandridge ain’t Mrs. Dandridge at all; she’s Miss Dandridge, the spinster sister of the dead man! Josie said . . .” Tilda lowered her voice as she drew nearer. “Josie said that right after Mr. Dandridge stuck his spoon in the wall, his sister come here and takes over like she’s lady of the manor. Since by then, poor Miss Cordelia already had windmills in her head . . . she dinna’ put up no fight, jes’ went along with whatever her husband’s sister told her to do.”
“Even when her sister-in-law insisted she was a maid in her own home? But, what of the other servants? Did not any one of them object?”
“Josie says the old ones is most all gone. That the new Mrs. Dandridge sacked most of ‘em straightaway, then she put on all new help. But, the old housekeeper, the one what tripped on the rug . . . she took a dislikin’ to the new lady o’ the house, so . . . Josie claims, Norris helped her to leave her post, if’n ye’ knows what I mean.” Tilda nodded slyly.
“But, I thought Norris was also a new employee?”
Tilda shrugged. “I ain’t exactly certain when Norris come, miss. Josie didn’t say; she jes’ said I should give this to you. If’n ye’ asks me, I thinks Josie knows far more about the Dandridge family than she’s been a-lettin’ on.”
Exhaling the breath I’d been holding, I rose and moved to sit on the bed. “Well, it is my belief that Norris also assisted poor Miss Cordelia to . . .” When I felt hot tears well in my eyes, I said no more.
“Do you think we oughts ta’ tell Miss Ellie the truth, miss?”
Blinking away the emotion rising within me, I murmured, “I confess I am uncertain what we should do at this juncture, Tilda. The girls have their hearts set on a London Season and I do not wish to ruin things for them.” After considering another moment, I asked, “Why do you suppose Josie took you into her confidence tonight?”
“Because she don’t have no more use for Norris than you do, miss. Josie was here when Miss Cordelia was right in the head and she promised Josie that one day she could be housekeeper. Then when Mr. Dandridge went on to his reward, and his sister come here . . . well . . .”
“But, what of the grandsons? Are they truly . . .?”
“I ‘spect they knew that their real grand-mama, Miss Cordelia, had gone ‘round the bend, then, when their grandfather’s sister stepped in, they also just went along. Josie dinna’ tell me ever’thin’ about the family, just the part about Miss Cordelia bein’ the real Mrs. Dandridge, and the other one being her dead husband’s sister.”
“Was Josie aware that you took the miniature?”
“I dinna’ take it. Josie was about to toss it in the rubbish bin, then of a sudden, she changed face and said I should give it to you. I’m a-thinkin’ she hopes you can sort things out.”
“I see. Very well. I-I shall give the miniature to Ellie one day. She never did believe the old lady lying ill on the chaise was her beloved aunt.”
But, I added to myself, I would continue to do whatever I could to unravel the mysterious goings-on in the Dandridge household, hopefully with no one, beyond Josie, and Tilda, the wiser.