do, my lady. Yes, indeed I do.’
Aurelia clapped her hands, her eyes shining with delight. ‘I am so pleased. I took to you at once, Lottie, and I know we will get on very well together. I’m not a demanding mistress, although I do like to have everything my own way.’ Her cheeks dimpled prettily and her laughter echoed round the gallery, returning again and again in a merry chorus. ‘You will dine with us tonight to celebrate.’
‘Oh, no, my lady,’ Lottie protested, horrified at the thought. ‘That wouldn’t do at all. What would Mrs Filby say?’
‘Mrs Filby will do as I tell her, and you are now my personal maid and nothing to do with Mr or Mrs Filby. I have appropriated you, Lottie. Lead on.’
Lottie was not at all sure that this was a good idea. The thought of sitting in the dining room together with the other guests and travellers was alien to her. She could barely imagine how it must feel to be waited upon, let alone to have Mrs Filby, Ruth and May at her beck and call. But Aurelia had spoken, and Lottie was coming to the conclusion that Lady Aurelia Dashwood was unused to having her wishes thwarted. She led the way to the dining room where Gillingham was already seated at a table by the window.
He rose to his feet and pulled up a chair. ‘Lady Aurelia, I wondered whether you would be joining me.’
‘Of course I am, Farrell, and so is Lottie.’ Aurelia laughed at his dumbfounded expression. ‘She has agreed to be my personal maid. Merriweather is too old and unwell to accompany me to the Crimea, and it seems that it’s Lottie’s ambition to go there, so we are all happy.’
‘Begging your pardon, my lady.’ Mrs Filby had come up behind them, and she was bristling. Lottie would not have been surprised to see the hairs standing to attention on her head like the hackles on a dog’s back.
‘Yes? What is it?’
Mrs Filby seemed oblivious to Aurelia’s icy tone and haughty stare. ‘Did I hear right, ma’am? You cannot take my servant without a by-your-leave.’
‘Can I not?’ Aurelia threw back her head and laughed. ‘But I can, and I will. Lottie is not your property, and she is free to do as she pleases.’
Breathing heavily, Mrs Filby folded her arms across her chest. ‘We’ll see about that, your ladyship. Wait until Filby hears about this.’
Gillingham glared at her. ‘You do not speak to Colonel Dashwood’s wife in that tone of voice, ma’am. Lady Aurelia has explained the situation and you would do well to accept it with good grace. As far as I can see, you treat your staff abominably, and I’m surprised that any of them remain in your employ.’
‘Well!’ The word escaped in an explosion of indignation. ‘I’ve never been spoken to like that in my whole life.’
‘Then perhaps it’s time someone put you in your place.’ Aurelia sat down and signalled Lottie to follow suit. ‘If you do not wish to serve us, please send someone who will.’
Mrs Filby cast a withering look in Lottie’s direction and stomped off towards the kitchen.
Moments later May arrived at their table with a tureen of beef stew, followed by Ruth with a platter of bread and a dish of butter. Lottie was about to jump to her feet to serve the stew, but a frown from Aurelia made her sink back on her chair. She sent an apologetic look to Ruth, who served them, tight-lipped and unsmiling.
‘Well then, Lottie,’ Gillingham said cheerfully. ‘So you’re to get your wish after all. You’ll be accompanying us when we embark for the Crimea.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Lottie waited for Lady Aurelia to start eating before picking up her spoon. For the first time in her life she was grateful for the strict rules of etiquette that had been drummed into her at school. At least she would not disgrace herself at table. She knew she was being scrutinised and she concentrated on her meal, barely tasting Jezebel’s excellent stew.
Gillingham and Aurelia chatted amicably throughout the meal, and to Lottie’s relief she was not expected to contribute to the conversation. She could feel Mrs Filby’s eyes upon her and the curious stares of the other diners, but eventually the tables were cleared, and Mrs Filby was called away. Even so, Lottie was relieved when Lady Aurelia announced that she was going to retire to her room. They left Gillingham to his brandy and cigar, with Ruth hovering in the background, waiting to make the tables ready for breakfast next morning.
‘You did well tonight,’ Aurelia said as Lottie brushed her hair. ‘You have a natural desire to look after people, and you’ll make an excellent maid. I’m pleased with you already.’ She shook her long golden hair so that it spread about her shoulders like a cloak. ‘I can put myself to bed. I’m not entirely helpless, and you look tired. We need to be up early, so I want hot water and a cup of chocolate at six o’clock on the dot. Good night, Lottie.’
Still in a daze at the sudden turn of events, Lottie made her way to the attic. She felt that she ought to apologise, even though she had done nothing wrong, but Ruth was obviously in a bad mood.
‘You must be off your head. I wouldn’t go to war, even if you gave me a hundred quid.’ Ruth gave her palliasse a shake. ‘Blooming bed bugs. The little devils get everywhere.’
‘I’m bitten all over,’ May complained. ‘I’d like just once to sleep in one of them four-posters we’ve got in the best bedchambers, with freshly laundered cotton sheets and an embroidered coverlet.’
‘Lottie will be sleeping in a tent with nothing but a horse blanket between her and the damp earth,’ Ruth said spitefully. ‘You wouldn’t find me camping on a battlefield.’
‘You won’t put me off.’ Lottie lay down on top of the patchwork coverlet. It was hot beneath the eaves and her bedding had also become infested, which only added to her discomfort. ‘Anything would be better than living like this.’
‘Don’t say things like that.’ May covered her head with the grimy sheet. ‘We got no choice.’
‘Speak for yourself. I’m going to find meself a rich husband, or at least one what can pay the rent each week and put food on the table.’ Ruth reached for a clay pipe and a poke of tobacco.
‘Don’t you dare light that pipe,’ Lottie said angrily. ‘You’ll set the place on fire one night.’
‘Yes, and the smoke makes me cough,’ May added. ‘Go to sleep, Ruth. We’ll be up again in a few hours.’
Lottie lay back and closed her eyes. This would be her last night sleeping in the attic, which was stifling in summer, freezing in winter, and damp and draughty in the intervening months. She might not be able to fulfil her ambition to nurse the wounded, but she would serve her country in a different way. She had known Lady Aurelia Dashwood for only a few hours, but already she was her devoted servant. Morning could not come soon enough, and an added bonus – she might meet Gideon again.
Jem was up and about, going through his seemingly endless set of chores before the first mail coach was due to arrive. Lottie could hear his cheery voice as she made her way down the wooden stairs to the yard, where the ostlers were preparing the horses and the young stable boy was adding to the already festering
