Chapter Twenty #5
‘As a lady’s maid she’s used to doing fine needlework,’ she told Giles, ‘and we lack a sewing-maid since Dory left us. She can earn her keep.’ He still looked obdurate, and she said, ‘Please, Giles.’
‘Oh, Kitty!’ he said, in exasperation. ‘You’ll ruin us at this rate.’
‘I don’t suppose Taylor eats much, she’s so thin.’
He smiled reluctantly. ‘I suppose it would make you unhappy to turn her away.’
‘Very unhappy.’
‘Then I have no choice.’
She went up on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘You’re very good to me.’
He caught her to stop her moving away. ‘No, you’re very good. Too good for this world. I’m afraid you may be snatched aloft in a cloud.’
Her lips lingered on his, her cool fingers touched the back of his neck. Things stirred inside him. ‘Shall I come and see you later?’ he murmured, against her mouth.
‘Yes, please,’ she whispered back.
At the table in her private sitting-room (oh, how she loved that room!), Nina tied the last bow on the last present and looked with satisfaction at the heap. The thing she loved best about being a rich man’s wife was buying lovely presents for people.
She had exchanged gifts with Bobby the day before, as they would be away for Christmas, and Bobby had given her a lecture.
‘I just said it must be awful for Clemmie to be in prison at Christmas,’ Nina protested.
‘That wasn’t all you were thinking, though. Yes, it’s horrible, but she could have paid the fine and gone home.’
‘The WSPU want the publicity of women being sent to gaol,’ Nina said.
‘Which is pretty cold-blooded, if you ask me. But no-one forced Clem to join them. She knew exactly what she was doing.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘I know she looks so delicate, as though a harsh word would blow her away, but if you ask me she’s as tough as old leather.
And she’s got a will of iron – she’ll do what she wants to do, and you can’t talk her out of it.
Also,’ she went on, before Nina could speak, ‘she has nothing to lose. Her money is her own and she’s no family. ’
‘I think that’s why the WSPU is becoming so important to her. They’re her family. The comradeship of those women – I suppose it’s like being a soldier at war.’
‘It’s exactly like that. They think they’re at war, and they relish the battles. But you – you hate conflict.’
‘I don’t enjoy it—’ Nina began.
‘And look at what you’ve got to lose.’ Bobby spread her hands to indicate plenty.
‘These women can get on very well without you. Send them a donation, if you feel strongly enough, but don’t get mixed up in their antics and don’t let them drag you into a disagreement with your husband.
You’ve got a daughter to think about. And he loves you, you know,’ she added, in a different tone.
‘You can hurt him far more than he can hurt you. Is staying Clemmie’s friend more important than him? ’
‘That’s a horrid question,’ Nina said uncomfortably.
‘I’ll put it another way. If you asked Clemmie to give up the WSPU for your sake, do you think she would?’
‘I would never ask that,’ Nina said, but she saw Bobby’s point, and Bobby knew she had.
So she had come home and told Joseph that she wouldn’t see Clemmie any more, and that she understood his position. His relief and happiness had been her reward; and she felt relieved, too, that they would go to Ashmore Castle on good terms with each other.
‘Now I’ll really enjoy Christmas,’ he had exclaimed.
And I will, too, she thought. It didn’t stop her sending a parcel of special Christmas fare to Clemmie in Holloway, which went a little way to easing her conscience.
Below stairs, Frederick Barnes brought Miss Taylor to the big table, explained her presence, and watched their reactions.
Most of the servants had already seen her, some had talked to her, and all had speculated wide-eyed on what it meant.
It was a test of his authority to get them to stop talking, and to persuade Miss Taylor to take the lowly place that would be hers as sewing-maid, and to accept that she would be addressed as Mary from now on.
He saw her and Rose exchange a bitter and knowing look, saw the look of suppressed fury on Mary’s face as she realised she had no choice, saw Miss Hatto’s cool eyes taking it all in, storing it away without overt reaction.
Old Crooks looked unhappy – he and Taylor had been Gog and Magog in the household for all those years as valet and lady’s maid to the earl and countess, and he didn’t like her fall, which was far worse than his own.
Afton looked sympathetic, imagining how it must gall Mary Taylor – he thought too much.
He and Hatto were a pair all right. And Mrs Webster was looking exasperated as she thought of the trouble the new arrival might cause and how she was going to control it and keep harmony among the maids.
He couldn’t wait to get back to his room and write it all down in his latest notebook.
The tin trunk under the bed contained twelve notebooks now.
It had a stout lock on it, the key never leaving his person.
As far as he knew, no-one in the house could read Pitman shorthand, but he couldn’t afford to take the risk.