Maid to Match (10 page)

When Mack finished humming the song, they were exactly where they’d started. Steps away from the column and the tapestry gallery. And like the night before, he did not release her.

Nor did she pull away.

Silence.

He felt her shallow breaths with the hand he pressed between her shoulder blades. He pictured the rising and falling of her chest. The apron bib covering her bodice.

He slid his hand down her spine, slipping his little finger beneath the knot of her apron bow.

A shudder ran through her frame.

Slowly, he brought her palm to his mouth and took his first taste. Buttermilk and something indefinably sweet.

Sucking in her breath, she tugged at her hand. “Please.”

Reluctantly, he freed her. She brushed past him and turned on the lights, then whirled to face him. Her eyes were wide. Her face flushed. Her chest pumped like bellows. “You mustn’t do that. We’ll lose our jobs.”

“I don’t plan on being here long.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

She looked at him as if he were addled. “I’m up for lady’s maid.
Lady’s maid
. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes. It means you’ll be at the beck and call of somebody else twenty-four hours a day. It means you’ll, more or less, have an electric wire attached to you at all times. It means you must be in attendance whether you want to or not, while simultaneously pretending to be deaf, dumb, and blind. It means giving up every ounce of independence and freedom you have.”

She whipped herself straight, squaring her shoulders. “It
means
I’ll travel the world. It
means
I won’t have to rise at four in the morning. It
means
I’ll make in one month what you’ll make in three and what the scullery makes in six. It
means
I can help support my family and give to those in need.”

“At what cost to you, Tillie?”

She looked him up and down. “I don’t think it will cost me much at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do and so do you.”

Sloop opened the door to the orphanage. Mack winced at the sight of him. The man’s nose and jaw were bruised, and his left eye still didn’t open completely. Had he done all that? It’d been two weeks since their fight.

“What do you want?” Sloop growled.

“I’m here to see my sister.”

“You’re not welcome in this building or on this property.”

“It’s visiting hours.”

“I couldn’t care less.” Sloop started to close the door.

Mack reached out to block it. Sloop jumped back in fear.

A twinge of guilt pricked at Mack, but he reminded himself Sloop had hit Ora Lou – no telling how many times – and his anger swelled all over again. “Get her or I’ll come in and fetch her myself.”

“I’ve talked with the police chief. He’s promised to throw you in jail if you so much as touch me again.”

“In that case, I’ll make sure I do a lot more damage next time. Maybe something permanent. Now, unless you have something to hide, I suggest you go and get her.”

Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other. Without inviting Mack in, Sloop spun and stalked through a door at the end of the corridor. But he left the front door open.

Mack stepped inside, then made his way to the parlor, where visitors waited. Alone in the room, he paced beside a stiff couch and fragile chairs, the thick rug cushioning his boots. Pausing, he picked up a marble dove, speculating on what kind of tools the craftsman had used to sculpt it.

Ora Lou and another girl of about the same age entered, closing the door behind them.

“You look like Earl again,” his sister said. “It’s creepy.

Doesn’t that bother you?”

The bruise on her round face had faded to a sickly yellow. He wondered if there were any new ones. “Has Sloop touched you again?”

She shook her head, thick blond braids swinging. “He hasn’t so much as looked at me. It’s as if I’m a ghost and not even here.”

“What about his missus?”

“She doesn’t ignore me like he does, but I’d rather she would.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why? Does she beat you, too? Harm you in any way?”

“No. She’s just a grouch and a very difficult person to like.”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. He glanced at the other girl. “Who’s this?”

Ora Lou grasped the hand of her companion. “This is Irene, my new chum that I’ve been telling you about.”

Had it not been for the telltale evidence of a blossoming figure, he’d have guessed the girl was about eight. She was a fraction of the size of his sister. Her petite frame and features looked as if they’d break in two at the slightest touch. Limp honey-colored hair had been twisted into thin braids.

He nodded. “I’m Mack.”

She cast her gaze to the floor.

“She’s a bit shy,” Ora Lou said, her blond braids three times as thick as her friend’s. “Where have you been? You haven’t been at church or to see me in two weeks.”

“I got a job up at Biltmore.”

Eyes widening with surprise, she clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. “You? You wear that stuff Earl does?”

He scowled. “Of course not. I’m a useful man. Not a footman.”

She squelched her smile. “I see. Do you make lots of money, then?”

“I do.”

All teasing dissipated. She released her friend’s hand and took a step forward, eyes alighting with hope. “Have you come to take me with you?”

“Not yet. I don’t make
that
much money. But if I’m careful and if I don’t lose my job, then in a couple of months I should have enough put aside to pay for your room and board somewhere.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about the board, Mack. I can get a job and earn enough to feed myself. It’s just the room I’ll need help with.”

“All the same, it’ll probably take at least two months.”

“What makes you think you might lose your job?”

He hesitated. “I’ve gotten into a couple of scuffles.”

“With who?”

“The butler and an underfootman.”

“The
butler
!” Her jaw dropped. “Well, that was a really stupid thing to do.”

He bristled. “He was using his position to push around someone he considered beneath him.”

She shook her head again, her brown eyes softening. “That’s my big brother. Fight first. Think later.”

He sighed. “I’m trying to do better.”

“Anything else?” she asked. “Anything else that might cause you to lose your job?”

An image of Tillie flashed through his mind. He decided not to answer. His sister was only thirteen. What was she doing grilling him, anyway? Those months she’d been in charge of the boys had clearly gone straight to her head.

He glanced at Irene. During their conversation, she had inspected every square inch of the room with awestruck eyes.

“Have you not seen the parlor before?” he asked the girl.

She turned her gaze to his. “It’s lovely. So different than the back o’ the place.”

He frowned. “What does the back look like?”

She immediately averted her attention to the floor.

He turned to Ora Lou. “What does the back look like?”

“Nothing like this, I can tell you that.” Striding forward, she grabbed his shirt front and pulled him down for a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for taking the Biltmore job. When will you come back?”

“I have every second Sunday off from now on. You can count on my being here. Is there anything you need me to bring you?”

She gave a quick shake of her head. “They’d just take it away from me.”

“What do you mean?”

But instead of answering, she clasped Irene’s hand and pulled her back out the door. “Bye, Mack. Try to keep your fists to yourself and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

Tillie knocked on the door of the storage room.

“Come in,” her brother’s voice answered.

She opened the door, then froze. Mack stood stiff and scowling behind an old table wearing his typical workaday clothes, but with pristine white gloves sheathing his large hands.

An empty place setting, complete with glassware, lay before him on the bare table. Beside it were a variety of serving dishes and trays. Allan looked at her, a harassed expression on his face.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She glanced about the room. Cleaning supplies, old lanterns, china chamber pots – the gold-rimmed for guests, the plain for staff – and sundry items clogged the shelves lining the walls. Still, not a speck of dust had collected. “I was told Mrs. Winter wanted to see me in here.”

Allan waved her in. “No, I’m the one who needed you.”

After a slight hesitation, she entered, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Mack. The sharp words they’d exchanged last week had strained the easy camaraderie they’d had before. Still, she’d felt his gaze follow her every time they were in proximity of one another.

She might’ve had trouble ignoring the attraction she felt growing between them if she were the only one affected, but she wasn’t. Much more was at stake. This was likely her only opportunity to make more of her life. To help her family and those little ones at the orphanage. To fulfill her mother’s dreams for her. Her own dreams.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Allan ran a hand through his hair. “Mrs. Vanderbilt wants to train Mack to serve.”

She gaped at him. “Serve?
Mack?
But he’s barely been here two weeks.”

“Two and a half,” Mack corrected.

“But we have guests coming,” she continued, ignoring him. “A thousand things to do. You don’t have time to train him right now.”

Allan nodded. “I know. That’s why I sent for you. I need your help.”

She balked. “My help? Why me? I’m already juggling my normal duties along with the new lady’s maid duties I’ve been assigned. I don’t have time, either.”

“You have more time than I do. Especially in the afternoons.” He sent her a pleading look. “Please, Till.”

“What’s wrong with Aaron or Conrad or Kirk? Why can’t one of them train him?”

“Because when Mack thinks he’s being bullied, he uses his fists and I’ll be accountable for it. But he won’t hit a woman. At least, I don’t think he will.” Allan turned to Mack. “Do you hit women?”

A tick began to beat at the back of Mack’s jaw. “I do not.”

Allan gave her a triumphant look. “See. You’re safe.”

She swallowed. It wasn’t Mack’s fists that concerned her. “Bubby, please. There must be someone else.”

Her brother was already heading to the door. “There’s no one. Besides, I had to get special permission from the matron to pull you away. So it’s all decided.” He pinched her chin. “Thanks, brat.”

Then he was gone.

The hiss of the lantern sounded loud in the room.

“This is a waste of time,” Mack said. “I’m not doing it.”

She sighed. “How far have you gotten in your lesson?”

He tightened his lips. “I’m
not
doing this.”

“Then you’ll be dismissed and asked to leave the estate. Do you want to keep your job, Mack?”

“For now, yes.”

“Then you do whatever Mrs. Winter assigns you to do. At the moment, it seems she wants you to have a lesson on table waiting. Now, what have you learned so far?”

The tick grew more pronounced. “Serve from the right, remove from the left.”

She blinked. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve covered?”

“Hold the plate with my thumb on the rim of the plate and two fingers extended under the bottom.”

She nodded. “What else?”

He explained which linen-covered trays were for knives, which were for glasses, and which were for plates.

Nothing. They’d done absolutely nothing.

“How long have you been down here?”

“A while.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“I’ve been uncooperative.”

She lifted a brow. “Well, I have a million things to do, and training you isn’t one of them. So look sharp and pay attention.”

She rounded the table, sat down, and placed a covered soup dish in front of her. “When the guests first come to the table, their soup or fish will already be waiting for them. You must remove the cover. If it’s fish, you’ll need to remove the cover from the sauce as well.” She gave him a nod. “Go ahead.”