The House at Tyneford (17 page)

“There. You see?”

Mrs. Ellsworth thrust at me a pretty china vase decorated with blue swimming fish, and now filled with the precisely disarranged flowers.

“Put them upstairs in Lady Diana Hamilton’s room.”

“Yes, Mrs. Ellsworth.”

Taking the vase, I hurried along the corridor and up the back stairs to the blue guest room. For the week I was to act as lady’s maid for the Hamilton sisters. They were titled but not rich, or not sufficiently rich to travel with a maid. Mr. Wrexham was quite determined that I must fulfill this role. He claimed that my Viennese past qualified me for the task (“You have been to balls and operas or assisted your mother in her preparations, I am sure”), but Henry confided that, after a Parisian lady’s maid, an Austrian was considered the most fashionable. Apparently, Mr. Wrexham took great pleasure in the fact that Tyneford House was to provide an Austrian lady’s maid for Mr. Kit’s privileged guests. I had no idea that my nationality made me so exclusive. I wondered if my appeal would be diminished if they realised Austria no longer classed me as a citizen.

I set the vase down on the dressing table and glanced around the room. The soft blue curtains matched the November sky and through the windows the grey sea glinted and thrashed. I wondered what it would be like to stay here as a guest rather than as staff, to have Kit pull out my chair at dinner and call, “Wrexham, another soda and lime for the lady.” When I remembered the Elise in Vienna with her easy life of concerts, scented baths and familial love, I felt that I remembered someone else. Outside there was the sound of tyres on gravel, then a minute later voices in the hall and the flurry of arrival. I slid out of the blue room and watched from the shadows at the top of the staircase. Two girls with cherubim cropped blond curls prowled the hallway below. I knew they waited for Kit. They wore pale fur coats and Mrs. Ellsworth took their gloves, but the taller refused to let the housekeeper help her with her mink.

“Oh, no. I’m always so cold and this place is positively glacial. Where on God’s earth is Kit? I mean, he drags us down to this forsaken place, the least he can do is be around to greet us,” she said, in a tone that I am sure she believed was wry and disarming, but to my ear was rude.

The sitting room door opened and Kit wandered out in his socks to be embraced by both girls.

“So sorry. I was asleep. Was awake at five.”

“Excitement at our arrival?”

The doll-like girl pawed him, smoothing his ruffled collar.

“What else, Diana?” he said, helping her off with her coat. Apparently Diana was no longer concerned about being cold.

“Diana. Juno. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Mr. Rivers appeared in the hall, and both girls presented him a cheek; he placed a cool kiss on each. The banter ceased in Mr. Rivers’ presence; even Diana and Juno appeared to be in awe of him.

“Mrs. Ellsworth will show you to your rooms, and then perhaps you will join Kit and me for tea?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Rivers,” said Diana.

He gave her a warm smile. “I think you are quite old enough to call me Christopher.”

“Yes, Christopher,” she said, in the tone of a child who has discovered that her teacher has a first name.

Suddenly meek, the two girls followed Mrs. Ellsworth up the stairs. I shot along the corridor toward the back stairs. I was a split second too slow.

“Elise!” called Mrs. Ellsworth.

Reluctantly I turned and walked back.

“Your ladyships, this is Elise. She will be your maid during your stay.”

The girls looked me up and down. There was a long pause, during which I believe they expected me to curtsy. I did not. Mrs. Ellsworth cleared her throat and then opened the door to the blue room.

“I hope your ladyships will be quite comfortable. Please ring if you need anything.”

Mrs. Ellsworth gave a little nod and disappeared. I turned to hurry after her but Juno called out, “Elly-ease. Wait a minute. We might need something.”

Repressing a sigh, I followed them into the room.

Diana sat down at the vanity table, gazed into the mirror and rolled her eyes.

“Lordy! I am such a mess. Can you fix hair—what was your name?”

“Elise, your ladyship. And I can try if you like.”

I picked up a brush and a couple of pins and reached out for a stray blond curl. She slapped my hand away.

“Stop it. You’ll only make it worse.”

I bit my lip with the effort of not answering back.

Juno sank down on the window seat. “This weather is awful. Why he’s having the party now, Christ only knows. He could have waited till June or July and some decent chance of sun. This place is absolutely horrid in winter.”

Diana fluffed her curls. “The countryside is a hobby, not a place where one actually lives.”

I chewed my tongue. Had I ever been like this? I hoped not, though Hilde would have spanked me if I’d tried. Diana looked at me in the mirror.

“So, Ellis, you are a German Jewess?”

“Austrian.”

“Oh, yes. Same thing,” she snapped, impatient.

“I am from Vienna.”

“The Viennese are very fashionable.” She turned to her sister. “I heard that Jecca Dunworthy was waited on by a Viennese countess when she stayed with the Pitt-Smyths in Bath.”

I said nothing and picked blond strands from the hairbrush. Diana reapplied her lipstick.

During dinner I stood behind Diana, my back flat against the wall. As the elder sister, she received the marks of attention. A girl drafted in from the village loitered behind Juno. She was under strict instructions to say and do nothing except carry dirty crockery. Several young ladies and gentlemen had arrived during the afternoon, and the dining room now echoed with laughter. Mr. Rivers sat at the head of the table beside a slight girl in a lavender frock. She was so thin that she reminded me of a leaf curl, hardly there at all. She ate nothing, however much Mr. Rivers pressed her, and sipped only white wine. I had never been at a party with so many young people; with the exception of his father, all the diners were friends of Kit and the air crackled with flirtation. Mr. Wrexham silently refilled the glasses. It was stifling beside the fire. I had stoked it into a blaze before dinner, and now I could scarcely breathe. I wished I could sit, and I felt sweat tickle my forehead. Must not fall. I tried to inhale air through my nose and exhale through my mouth. The candles flickered against the dark wallpaper and made the family portraits appear oddly lifelike. Their faces dripped like waxworks.

“Ellis. You.”

Diana snapped her fingers at me and I realised that she was pointing to her napkin, which had fallen on the floor. I stepped forward, willing myself not to faint, and bent to pick it up. My fingers were not working properly and it took me two attempts. I straightened, swaying, and steadied myself on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“So sorry, your ladyship.”

I replaced the napkin on her lap with a little flourish and retreated to the back of the room. I saw Mr. Rivers watching me. A look of concern slid across his face. He called Mr. Wrexham to his side, and a moment later the elderly butler propped open the dining room door and opened the window. A stream of cold air blew across my cheeks and I smiled at Mr. Rivers, but he had turned back to Juno, his serious blue-grey eyes fixed upon her. Across the room, Kit was building a bread roll tower and laughing with Diana and a bosomy girl in a green dress. A few minutes later, as I glanced along the table, I saw that Mr. Rivers’ chair was empty.

“You. Again.”

Diana’s napkin sprawled at her feet once more. The fabric on her dress must have been very slippery. I knelt to pick it up and, as my fingers touched it, she moved her foot, pinning my skirt to the floor with a sharp heel. I crouched at her feet, trapped like an idiotic pageboy. I tugged at my skirt but she dug in farther, so that I could not free myself without making a scene. After a half minute, she allowed me to stand and replace the fallen napkin onto her lap.

I retreated to the wall, remembering not to lean, as per Mr. Wrexham’s precise instructions. Apparently leaning was as bad as dawdling. Diana fed spoonfuls of her syllabub to Kit, who ate one or two and then, batting her away, lit a cigarette. He never would have dared smoke during dinner, with ladies, in his father’s presence, but after Mr. Rivers left, any restraint among the party evaporated. Juno rested her head on a young man’s shoulder, his fingers toying with her hair. The butler disappeared to fetch another bottle from the cellar. The gentlemen unfastened their bow ties.

“Elise,” called Kit.

“Yes, sir?”

He dangled his black bow tie between his fingers.

“Put it on.”

“No.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“No, your birthday’s tomorrow.”

As I looked up, I realised that the entire party was watching us argue. I tried to grab the bow tie from him.

“No. I want to put it on you.”

“Kit,” I pleaded in a low voice.

His eyes were glassy with drink. I decided it would be best to humour him before Mr. Wrexham or Mr. Rivers returned. I could shout at him later. I crouched beside his chair and he slipped the silk around my neck. His breath smelled of alcohol and his lips were red with wine. I felt my cheeks colour as he tied the bow around my throat, his fingers brushing my skin. I swallowed and he did not remove his hand. I knew I ought to move away, but I stayed for a moment, feeling the warmth of his fingers, watching the half smile crease around his eyes.

“Shall I ring the bell for coffee?” said Diana, voice shrill, her painted fingernails drum-drumming on the tablecloth.

I pushed Kit away, scrambled to my feet and half ran out of the room in my haste to fetch the tray.

After serving coffee I slipped away into the stable yard. Poppy and Will sat side by side on the mounting block. In the last couple of months they had quietly started courting, and Poppy’s small freckled hand rested in Will’s large one.

“How’s the party?” she asked.

“Kit’s drunk.”

“In front of his father?”

“Mr. Rivers left after the dessert.”

I kicked a stray piece of flint and it shot across the yard, hitting the water pump with a crack.

“What do you know about Diana Hamilton?”

Poppy sat swinging her legs, tossing pear drops up into the air and catching them on her tongue. “Well, their father, Lord Hamilton, lost the family fortune on a horse. Tragic, really. Diana was named after his first big win. Juno after his second. Then he went and lost it all on Afternoon Delight.”

“I think she’s sweet on Kit.”

Poppy shrugged. “Most girls are. Shame if she’s set her cap at him, though. Flirting and making eyes is one thing, but really he ought to marry someone with money. This place needs a fortune spent on it.”

I looked away, avoiding her eye.

She tossed another pear drop and Will pushed her out of the way, catching it himself. She laughed, throwing back her head, and gobbled the next sweet straight from the paper bag. I forced myself to smile and leaned against the stable door.

“What does Kit want to talk to us about anyway?”

Poppy shrugged and jumped down off the mounting block, wandering over to Mr. Bobbin’s door. The old horse poked his nose out and she fed him a pear drop.

“You’re a handsome fellow, aren’t you?” she crooned, stroking him behind the ears.

Kit ambled into the yard, hands thrust in his pockets, and puffing on his usual cigarette.

“Sorry,” he said as soon as he saw me. “Bit much to drink. You’ve always known I was an idiot.”

I had wanted to yell, chide him over his stupidity, but he looked so full of remorse that my resolve wavered. I pulled the wrinkled bow tie out of my apron pocket and thrust it at him, saying nothing. He took it from me and fixed me with bloodshot eyes.

“I’m sorry, Elise. Really I am. Sometimes I forget. That . . . you know . . . you’re not one of us.”