Chapter 2 #2
It worked. “Why do you have a wheelbarrow?” asked Miss Brown.
So, Maggie told that part of her story, and a few anecdotes about her little family’s adventures along the lanes and byways of England, and Miss Brown thawed still further and explained the idiosyncrasies of ‘her’ young ladies, and the dangers of a house party to willful heiresses who were not as sophisticated as they thought.
Part of Maggie’s job would be to win their trust and keep them safe.
By the time Maggie returned to the young ladies’ room, she was as ready as she might be to fulfill her duties, though keeping them safe might be beyond her. Still. She would try.
Being a ladies’ maid was a pleasant job when the ladies were nice.
Maggie had served a few officers’ wives who were right cows!
The two sisters continued to be appreciative, if demanding.
She and Miss Brown became friends, of a sort, as Maggie continued to visit the maid every day.
The work was easy for a woman whose daily life was usually much more physically demanding.
As for keeping the young ladies safe, that was a little more problematic.
The best she could do was share the servants’ observations of the gentlemen who clustered around the pair.
Some were what Maggie thought of as “real gentlemen.” Some, like the master of the valet who had attacked her, were wolves in sheep’s clothing, with a black reputation for bothering the maids and wandering at night into the bedrooms of people to whom they were not married.
Whether the young ladies took any notice of her was another matter, but they at least allowed her to tell her stories—not just those told by the other servants, but also tales of her experiences as the daughter and wife of a soldier.
They particularly loved the story of how she and Will came to marry.
“When my father passed away, I thought I would have to go home to England. ‘Home,’ I say, but until a few months ago, I have only childhood memories from when Pa’s regiment was briefly posted here.
I was born on campaign, and my mother and I followed my father until I was eight, which is when a bad ague went through the camp.
By the time it was finished with, hundreds were dead, including Ma. ”
She would carry on with her work while she talked—mending a slipper, or pouring water for them to wash, or dressing their hair, or taking it down and brushing it. One hundred strokes each and not a stroke more or less.
“And so, I grew up in a tent with Pa, or in the baggage train of the army. Then, all of a sudden, I was a single woman alone. Pa’s savings would have been enough to take me to England, but I had no family there. Where would I live? What would I do?”
She would pause, then, her hands busy, continued the current task, waiting for one of the young ladies to say, “What happened, Mrs. Parker?”
“The soldiers who didn’t have a wife began to bring me presents and ask me to marry them.
All except the one I wanted. Corporal Will Parker watched me from afar, and I waited for him, but he didn’t come.
Then our officer told me that I had to choose or I had to leave, for half of the bachelors were squabbling over who had my favor, and the other half were writing poetry or picking flowers, and not a single one of them was remembering we were meant to be fighting the French. ”
She chuckled, and the ladies giggled with her.
“I was still waiting for Corporal Parker, but my time had run out. So, I picked a bunch of wildflowers and took it to him. I told him I was a good cook, an excellent seamstress, a competent laundress and would make him a faithful wife, but he need not count on me for any poetry, for I was a practical soldier’s daughter. ”
Her hands stilled as she remembered his shocked expression and how it changed to dawning delight.
Half lost in the dream of that day, she finished her story.
“He said he had always wanted to marry me, but he never thought he had a chance. We went to find the chaplain, and were married that very day. And we had more than a year together before we were separated. Happy, even if there was a war on, because we were together. I loved him, and he loved me.”
The ladies sighed. “I do hope I can find a man I love,” said Lady Eugenie, and Lady Clara agreed.
The days were long. Maggie started as early as the housemaids, and stayed up later. But she also had time during the day to run over to Frannie’s house and see her children, who were thriving, but—or so Frannie’s mum said—all the better for seeing their ma.
It was while returning from one such excursion three days before the end of the house party that she heard a lady’s voice say, sharply, “I said no, Lord Clement.” Surely that was Lady Eugenie’s voice?
Maggie pushed through the screening hedge, and there, in a small private garden, Lady Eugenie was fighting in the arms of the arrogant young sprig whose valet had attacked Maggie.
The little garden was lamentably short of weapons.
Maggie, stuck with a last-resort action, put her hand between the villain’s legs, grabbed, and pulled.
He screamed and let go of Lady Eugenie, but his shriek had not gone unnoticed. Maggie could hear voices approaching. She had to think fast. The upper classes had some odd ideas, and she didn’t want her charge to be compelled to marry such a wicked man.
“We shall say he attacked me and you arrived just as I kicked him,” she whispered to the lady. The man was still curled in a ball, clutching his groin and whimpering. He was not in any fit state to disagree with their story, and even if he did, who would believe him?
She could only hope Lady Eugenie would follow her lead, and sure enough, when a group of guests rounded the end of the hedge and came through the rose arch toward them, Lady Eugenie turned to Maggie and started smoothing the garments that had been disarranged in pushing through the hedge and bending over to deal with Lord Clement.
“Mrs. Parker, are you sure you are unhurt,” Lady Eugenie was saying when the plump matron who was the worst gossip of the lady guests sailed up saying, “Why, Lady Eugenie. What happened here? How did Lord Clement become injured?”
“I arrived just in time to see that horrid man attack my maid,” said Lady Eugenie. “Mrs. Parker kicked him. I must say it was very effective. Lord Clement let go of her immediately. Well done, Mrs. Parker.”
Of course, it was not as simple as that. Indeed, there was a huge fuss. Lord Clement was a younger son of a marquess, and his father demanded that Maggie be punished. “The chit should be whipped,” he declared. “No doubt she led my poor son on, thinking she would get money out of him.”
The host and hostess of the house party were in a difficult position.
It seemed to Maggie that they knew perfectly well who to blame for the assault, but they did not want to offend the marquess.
For a short while, Maggie was afraid that she would, indeed, be whipped, but Lady Eugenie took her brother the earl to one side for an earnest conversation, and after that, the earl demanded that everyone wait while he had a private word with the marquess.
Whatever he said, the marquess changed course entirely. He told the host and hostess that he was leaving the situation in their hands, ordered his carriage, and marched his son off upstairs. Within half an hour, they were gone.
As for Maggie, she was on her way, too. Dismissed, but with her full wages for the fortnight plus a bonus from the hostess, “for your trouble, Mrs. Parker, and for your husband’s service.
” Even better, when she said farewell to the two sisters—and recommended Frannie to replace her for the two final days of the house party—they insisted on giving her a half-sovereign as a vail for her services.
“We are grateful for your stories, Mrs. Parker,” said Lady Clara. “We learned a great deal.” Lady Eugenie added, “And I am grateful for your quick thinking, and sorry that defending me cost you your job.”
“You need not be concerned,” Maggie told her.
“I have been paid for the fortnight, and I shall be back with my children two days earlier than I expected. It is fine weather, too. Tomorrow morning, we shall be on our way, and who knows? Perhaps we shall find Will’s family in the next village of Ashton. ”
That was not the end of the largesse, for the earl insisted on escorting Maggie back to Frannie’s mum’s house.
“My sister told me what that scoundrel tried to do, Mrs. Parker. My family owes you a debt. I trust you will accept this purse and its contents as a token of our appreciation, and if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
The purse contained the almost unbelievable sum of a whole guinea.
Together with what she had earned and what the ladies had given her, Maggie now had more than enough to find somewhere safe for her and the children to spend the winter, and she might not even have to find a job right away.
It would be good to be settled by Christmas.
The winter had been mild so far, but that could not last.
She could also spend a bit on letters to the remaining villages of Ashton. Or… There was something she had heard. Would the earl think her impertinent if she asked? Well, and what if he did? At worst, he would say no, and he might say yes!
“My lord, there might be something. Is it true that lords do not have to pay to send their letters?”
“It is, Mrs. Parker. Or, to be more precise, members of Parliament do not have to pay to use His Majesty’s royal mail. Do you have a letter you wish to send?”
“Several, sir. I am looking for my husband’s family.
” Maggie explained all about being separated from Will, and how she knew only that he came from a village called Ashton, which was somewhere in the Midlands.
“I wrote from Spain, my lord, and a diplomatic gentleman helped me make a list of the villages named Ashton and sent the letters for me. But if one of those letters arrived, and if they responded, I never heard.”
“Write your letters, Mrs. Parker—you can write?”
Maggie nodded.
“Very good. Then write your letters, and I’ll send a servant down to collect them.”
Where would Maggie get paper? From the general store, she supposed. It was probably still open at this time.
The earl must have seen her hesitancy, for he said, “I shall send my valet down with some paper. Is this the house, Mrs. Parker? I shall leave you, then. God bless you on your way, ma’am, and thank you again.”
Gracious. An earl had blessed her and thanked her. Maggie felt as lofty as the queen! Wouldn’t Will laugh when she told him? If Will was still alive. If she could find him.