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FRIDAY EVENING, 20 October 1820
That I was called upon that evening to dress the Lady Sophia’s hair, which was still a bit damp at the time, told me that her mother had, indeed, decided to hold off on their return trip to Town. Lady Sophia confided to me that she was quite looking forward to the ball the following evening so I supposed that meant mother and daughter, and all of Lady Sedgwick’s groomsmen, her personal footman and maids, would be staying. At least, until after the ball.
While the ladies were at dinner, I once again took my place for the evening meal at the long table in the servant’s hall with the other lady’s maids. Meg, Miss Hester Grant’s maid, was still the only one friendly enough to draw me into conversation.
“I noticed your Miss Featherstone was the first to ride with the heir today,” Meg said. “How did she like him?”
I emitted a rather haughty “hmmp” sound. “I don’t believe she liked him one bit. I know I don’t care a fig for the man. A more disagreeable, discourteous, boorish gentleman I have never met.”
“Come now, Miss Abbott,” said Rosie, Miss Elizabeth Banes’ maid, “tell us what you really think of him.”
“What I really think is . . . if that gentleman can persuade even one of our mistresses to wed him it will be a miracle! I daresay we would all be a good deal better off if he would take himself out of the running. Why, if the second son were the heir instead of William Morland, everyone of our ladies would have their caps set for him.” I was warming to my subject now. “I daresay, it’s too bad he wasn’t the one found dead on the estate grounds yesterday instead of that other bloke!”
A few titters followed my brash pronouncement. But, I also noticed there was also a few nods of agreement.
Meg said, “Mr. Edward Morland does seem to find your Miss Featherstone agreeable.”
“Indeed, he does,” I replied. “If a gentleman can be called a diamond of the first water, to be sure, he is that. Edward Morland is a thoughtful, kind, gentleman; and he is also charming and charitable. He even listens when I speak.” I paused, then added, “Unlike his boor of a brother.”
The talk amongst the maids turned to other things and I was soon climbing the stairs back up to Miss Featherstone’s suite. I did feel a bit guilty for unburdening myself so roundly in front of everyone tonight, but I meant every single word I said, and more. I truly did wish Kenneth Grimes had killed William Morland instead of the other way around. Had that happened, it would instantly elevate Edward to the role of Morland heir and place my Miss Featherstone in good stead to become his wife. Not that I thought for an instant that that would ever come about. The heir being killed, I mean; not that Edward would wed my Miss Featherstone.
* * *
SATURDAY, 21 OCTOBER 1820
The next morning, the entire manor house was a flurry of activity as a host of additional guests arrived especially for the ball that night. Since most of the new arrivals had come from a long way off, they would be staying the night and return home the following day. Though new guests had been expected, still the influx threw the footmen, the chambermaids and the entire kitchen staff and scullery into an anxious frenzy as everyone’s backbreaking duties increased at least ten-fold and their stamina did not.
“Half of us ain’t slept in two days,” Nancy Jane declared to me as I hurried past her into the laundry room, me for the third or fourth time that day.
I had already spent a good deal of time traipsing up and down the back stairs in a rush to have ball gowns pressed, to wash out a special petticoat (and hope it would dry in time to wear that night), to iron a ribbon for my mistresses hair, to attempt to remove a spot on the finger of a glove and to see if I could find someone to help me repair the tattered toe of a dancing slipper. Today, we maids had been instructed to use the back stairs exclusively as the wide, front stairs were reserved especially for new guests and their maids and footmen carrying up valises and other baggage, therefore to bump into another lady’s maid hurrying either up or down the narrow back stairs had become commonplace.
“Don’t forget that Lady Sophia wishes you to dress her hair before tea, Miss Abbott,” Lucy said to me in passing.
“Tell her I’ll be there as quickly as I can!”
As the day wore on, the excitement in the manor house grew. I saw armloads of flowers and greenery being carted into the house, and later, a score or more of musicians carrying in instruments and thick packets of music. Giving in to my innate curiosity at that point, I decided to furtively follow them and soon learned that the ballroom was on the backside of the huge house overlooking an enormous knot garden, which I did not know was there, and certainly had not had an opportunity to explore. Perhaps another time.
Now, all I wished was that Lady Morland had included we lady’s maids in tonight’s festivities! My longing to attend a fancy-dress ball was every bit as fervent as that of Miss Featherstone. To be sure, tonight’s “do” was as close as I would ever come to a real ball. If only I could figure out a way to, at least, watch the proceedings.
From Nancy Jane, I learned that there was to be a lavish supper served that night following the ball, which meant that tea this afternoon was essentially the main meal of the day. Therefore, right after I dressed Lady Sophia’s hair and then, while my mistress and everyone else were ensconced in the drawing room for tea, I skipped my own tea in the servant’s hall and instead boldly betook myself up the front stairs. Earlier, when I had peeked into the ballroom, I had looked up and noticed a decorative expanse of grillwork encompassing the top third of the ballroom just beneath the arched ceiling.
Thought I, that fancy grillwork, which was gilt in color and featured an intricate design composed of scrolls and curly-ques with open spaces in-between, would provide an excellent vantage point from which to view the proceedings below; while at the same time being unobserved by those within the ballroom, of course. And, I expected, at the bottom of it was a ledge wide enough to accommodate a person. Thinking further in that vein, I decided to turn my mind to figuring exactly how to go about getting up there.
Upon reaching the second floor of the manor house, which I calculated would put me on the same level as the ceiling of the ballroom, I slowly headed down the long corridor searching for something I fully expected to find if I looked carefully enough. It took three trips up and down the long hallway before I found what I was looking for. A jib door. Lady Carstairs had several within her home; a small, narrow door cut into a wall but covered over in the same wall covering as the rest of the wall in order to render the small door that was cut in virtually invisible.
And, here it was.
I reached for the tiny latch handle, it obscured within the elaborate carved chair rail that marched mid-way down the entire corridor. With only a gentle tug the door opened and I slithered into the narrow passageway inside. It was quite dark in the tight enclosure which, sure enough, ran parallel with the backside of the grill-work, and on this side was black . . . but, just as I thought, as I slowly made my way along, the ceiling of the cavernous ballroom was clearly visible to me.
Moving closer to the backside of the grillwork, I peeked through the first opening I came to and carefully looked down, down, down. Directly below me inside the ballroom, I spotted four housemaids on their knees rubbing polish onto one section of the floor. Five footmen nearby were busy lining three walls of the huge chamber with straight-backed Japanned chairs and a few matching settees; resting places, I surmised, for elderly matrons, who would rather sit than cavort about on the dance floor.
Smiling to myself, I grew bolder and quickly and easily traversed the entire narrow passageway that ran parallel to the ballroom ceiling on three sides, the entire fourth wall of the chamber being composed of tall narrow windows and wide double doors that gave onto the garden. The fancy grillwork also marched along the wall on that side, as well, but with no passageway on the backside.
My, my. I paused to look down again. From this lofty aspect, I could, indeed, clearly see everything that was going on below. Pleased with my discovery, the excitement within me grew. That I had not been invited to the ball did not mean that I would not be in attendance. Why, I executed a careful twirl within the narrow enclosure, I could even dance up here if I wanted to! And, tonight, I probably would.
For now, however, I had best return to my duties.
It did not occur to me then that tonight I might encounter another curious, or perhaps, even dangerous, soul also lurking up here on the hidden passageway high above the ballroom floor.