Innocence (3 page)

At the conclusion of Lisa’s tale, the housekeeper studied her intently while drumming her fingers on the scarred but polished desktop.
 

“It is clear to me you have received a level of education far above the norm for a pastry cook,” she said, and Lisa tensed, hoping this part of her story would stand up to scrutiny.

“My mother was from a good family. When she died, my father employed a governess to continue my education in keeping with her wishes.”
 

“I see.” The housekeeper responded after a pause. “Your father was wise to recommend you make the journey to Worthington Hall. A young woman with your
assets
could easily be taken advantage of. It’s clear you are no stranger to tragedy, Miss Brown,” she added with a frown. “I’m just not sure how well-acquainted you are with hard work.”

Lisa’s leg began to jiggle, and she stilled it with a hand to her knee.
 

After another long pause, the housekeeper stood and motioned for Lisa to follow as she left the office and walked briskly down the corridor.
 

“I’ll give you a trial with our pastry chef tomorrow afternoon, but we’re also in need of junior maids. With all the extra guests who have stayed on after the Duke’s wedding, there’s no shortage of chores to be done.”

Entering a storage room, Mrs Donaldson began to remove items of clothing from the shelves, piling them in Lisa’s arms.

“Here is your uniform. Staff rise at five-thirty, breakfast promptly at six. Do not be late. The household keeps country hours, so breakfast must be available from seven-thirty until ten. Morning tea is served at eleven and luncheon at one. Staff take their midday and evening meals after the household is served. You will present yourself to Chef Peters in the kitchen after lunch tomorrow and remain there until eight, then you will be excused to spend your free time in your room. Lights out at ten. You will receive half a day off per week as well as the opportunity to attend a service at the chapel on the grounds every second Sunday.”

Lisa swallowed hard. She didn’t normally rise until eight in the morning and was used to considerable freedom when it came to her schedule. After the harrowing week she had just experienced, she was sorely in need of a rest . . . one she clearly was not going to get.

Mrs Donaldson closed the door to the storeroom and instructed Lisa to change into her uniform. She hesitated, uncomfortable undressing in front of a virtual stranger.

“Hurry up, Miss Brown. I don’t have all day.”

With little choice, Lisa began to undo the buttons of her tired-looking gown.

“Just as I thought,” the housekeeper muttered. “Not at all the attire I would expect of an innkeeper’s daughter. Other than your coat, you are dressed in superior quality garments right down to your petticoats and silk stockings.” Her eyebrows rose as she waited for an explanation.

“Please, ma’am. I need employment and somewhere safe to live.”
 

“You’re obviously running from something. An unwelcome betrothal?”

It was certainly unwelcome, and Lisa shuddered at the thought of being forced to wed Lord Copeland. “I am not betrothed,” she insisted, regardless of what the baron might say. “I just couldn’t remain where I was with my father gone.”

“What of family, connections? Are you completely without protection?”

Lisa hesitated. The Duke of Worthington’s support should prove to be all the protection she required,
if
she was able to avoid discovery until his return.

“I’m all alone. There’s no one.”

“What of your mother’s family, or was she disowned for marrying beneath herself?”

Lisa blinked at the conclusion the housekeeper had drawn from the meagre facts she had given her.

“I never met my mother’s family,” she said truthfully.
 

“Hmm. Orphaned, without protection, and can I assume penniless?”
 

Lisa nodded, her mother’s necklace part of the secret she must keep.

“What of your tale of working with a French pastry chef? Is that a fabrication?”

“No, ma’am. Chef Louis is an excellent chef and taught me a great deal.” If that part of her story had not been true, Lisa doubted she would have had the courage to attempt the subterfuge.
 

Mrs Donaldson studied her for a moment longer before releasing a sigh.

“Wait here. I’ll bring you some spare underclothes and nightwear. It would be best if you put yours away. It
might
make it easier for you to fit in with the rest of the staff.” The last was said with a shake of the housekeeper’s head.

After giving her the replacement clothing, she left Lisa to dress in private. The underclothes, chemise, and petticoat were made from coarse cloth, worn thin from repeated washings. After donning the long-sleeved white blouse, heavy black skirt, and white, ruffled apron that comprised her new uniform, Lisa put her low-heeled black boots on over the woollen stockings she’d been given.

At least she looked the part. If she could curb her upper-class tones and hard-won ladylike demeanour, she might have a chance of succeeding at this charade.
 

Chapter 3

The Lordships

“I’ll pair you up with Sally and Ruth, both experienced girls,” Mrs Donaldson instructed as she ascended the stairs, Lisa running to keep up. She followed the housekeeper along another corridor to a workroom where two uniformed maids were sitting, polishing silverware. The introductions were made perfunctorily and the girls admonished not to dally with their work.

“Ye’re not from the village, are ye?” one of the maids asked, as Lisa took her place at the table, cloth in hand. Ruth looked to be quite young, her light brown hair tied neatly in a bun.
 

“I’m from a little town near the seaside.”
 

Both girls’ eyes widened at Lisa’s clearly enunciated words.

“Wot ye doin’ ’ere then?” Sally, a plump girl with curly blond hair, demanded.

“I’d heard this is a safe place to work.” Lisa smiled tentatively.

Sally’s lips pursed, while Ruth ducked her head.

“It is
safe
here?”
 

“Oh, yes.” Ruth nodded. “Very safe. Ye’ve got no worries workin’ for His Grace, even when ’ e’s away.”

“Too bloody safe, if ye ask me.” Sally grumbled.

After the week she had spent sleeping rough in public inns, Lisa was becoming somewhat immune to bad language, but she was shocked to hear a maid from a prominent household speak in such a manner.

“There’s no such thing as too safe,” Ruth said.

“That’s yer opinion. I ’appen to like fraternisin’ with the fellas.”

“Well, ye should have thought of that before ye left yer last position and came to Worthington Hall.”
 

“Why
did
you come here?” Lisa asked Sally, fascinated by the byplay.

The maid broke into giggles. “ ’Cos the Stanton lords are the best-looking toffs in all the Empire. ’Ow was I to know His Grace’s rules meant they’d ’ave to keep it in their breeches?”

“What makes ye think they’d be interested in ye?” Ruth said. “Besides, I thought ye liked Owen.”

“I’ve ’ad no trouble getting the attention of the lords afore.” Sally shrugged. “And it’s not like Owen wants more than a tussle in the store room.”

The room fell silent, and Lisa mulled over the odd conversation. She had a feeling these girls could help divest her of her ignorance regarding the ways of the world which, she suspected, might be wise.
 

While polishing the piles of silverware, the two maids kept glancing towards the windows that looked down on a vast, cobblestone courtyard. Beyond it, Lisa could see the stables situated to the east of the Hall. Although curious about what the girls were looking at, or
for,
she refrained from asking. The less she spoke the better until she had worked her fabricated story into the conversation to explain her speech.
 

At a noise from outside, both girls raced to the window and knelt down to peer below. Lisa hesitated, not wanting to be caught shirking her duties her first hour of employment. But her curiosity soon got the better of her, and she crept over to kneel beside them. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of four gentlemen on horseback, four exceedingly handsome-looking gentlemen.
 

“Who are they?” she asked.

“The lordships,” Ruth whispered.

“The one with the moustache is Lord Michael Stanton, Viscount Cahill. He’s the Duke’s nephew, his younger brother’s son, but he’s lived ’ere for years now. His parents got taken off in an epidemic when he was a lad,” Sally explained.

“The big one with the beard is Lord Hugh McGivern. His father’s an earl with estates in Scotland,” Ruth added. “And the smaller black-haired one is Lord Peter Edgeley, a baron. He arrived a few days afore the weddin’.”

“Then there’s Nathaniel.” Sally sighed.

“That’s
Lord
Nathaniel Stanton, Marquis of Marsden, and the Duke of Worthington’s heir,” Ruth said sternly before giggling. “And wivout a doubt, the best-lookin’ man alive.”

Lisa did not disagree.
 

The Duke had spoken of his son on numerous occasions, but he had failed to mention how handsome he was. The marquis rode tall in the saddle, his broad shoulders and straight back cutting a fine figure. His dark hair held a hint of curl and was tousled from the ride. Blessed with a high forehead and arching brows, his jaw-line looked like it had been chiselled by a master sculptor.

“Heavens above,” Lisa whispered, a strange sensation causing her stomach to flutter.

“Yeah well, don’t be gettin’ no ideas,” Sally said. “If I’ve not been able to tempt ’im to break ’is father’s no fraternisin’ rules, I don’t see why ye should.”

“Of course not.” Lisa’s cheeks flamed. High-ranking lords did not spend time socialising with serving maids, and she wondered at Sally’s believing otherwise.
 

If Lisa had not been masquerading as a commoner things
might
have been different. Before her life had been torn from its foundations, she had been busy preparing for her first London season. She would have probably been introduced to Lord Marsden as a peer . . . of sorts. Nothing would have come of it, of course, regardless of their fathers’ friendship. He was a nobleman, a descendant of King George the Second. Lisa, on the other hand, was a girl with unfashionable colouring from an inconsequential family.

“Lord Marsden doesn’t normally spend too much time at Worthington Hall, as ’e’s got his own estate, but he’s promised to take care of some business for His Grace while ’e’s away.” Ruth said.

“Lord Cahill and his wife, Eleanor, Lady Cahill, live ’ere most of the time, as their main estate is in Ireland, and she doesn’t care for it over there. She’s the lady of the house while the Duke and ’is new Duchess, Margaret, are away. Not sure wot’s goin’ to ’appen when they return, as Lady Cahill won’t like losing her place,” Sally added as the gentlemen dismounted and handed their horses over to a flurry of grooms.

“Watch out for Lady Cahill.” Ruth sent Lisa a warning look. “She’s impossible to please.”

“She’s a right bitch, ye mean. Make’s ye feel sorry for Lord Cahill. I hear she only lets him share her bed once a week—
if
he’s lucky—and ’e’s in an’ out so quick it’s ’ardly worth the mention.”

Lisa frowned, shocked by Sally’s language and perplexed by her disclosure. It was customary for married members of society to keep separate bedrooms, so she could see naught wrong with the arrangement.
 

“What of the other lords? Are they married?” she asked.

Ruth shook her head. “Lord McGivern is Lord Marsden’s best friend. I think he’s ’opin’ to match ’im with ’is sister, Lady Rebecca. They’d make a good pair, ’im bein’ ’eir to an earldom and all. Lord McGivern’s got a bit of an eye for the ladies, but ’e don’t seem too bad. Lord Edgeley’s a recent visitor, sniffin’ around after Lady Rebecca’s inheritance and tryin’ to get a foot in before she makes ’er debut. But ’e’s wasting ’is time, as ’e’s only a baron. Don’t trust ’im wotever ye do. He’s got wandering ’ands.”
 

“Miss Rebecca’s been right flattered by ’is attention, silly girl,” Sally said without averting her gaze from the spectacle below. “He’s a right randy bugger, but only the girls in the village are gettin’ to enjoy ’is favours.” She scowled. “Bloody ’no fraternisin’ rules.”

Lisa covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.

“Lord Marsden’s determined to stay a bachelor despite the best efforts of the society mamas,” Ruth added, appearing unfazed by her friend’s outlandish comments and crude language. “Every other month, there’s a new rumour of ’is bein’ engaged to some toffee-nosed miss, but nothin’ ever comes of it. I reckon the ladies start the rumours themselves, but he’s too cagey to be caught like that.”
 

In a household as small as her father’s, the staff seemed more like family than servants, but Lisa was surprised by how much the girls knew about the private lives of the nobles they served. Crouching beside them, with her attention fixed on the handsome lords conversing not far beneath their window, it was Nathaniel who held her interest.