The Earl and The Chambermaid Read online

  The Earl and the Chambermaid

  ©2019 by Sophia Wilson

  All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

  These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

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  Chapter 1

  “Have you done it yet?”

  “No, mistress.” Abigail kept her head down, trying not to flinch as the Countess Charlotte screamed at her for nearly the hundredth time today, or so it felt.

  “Why not?”

  “I …” Abigail’s lip trembled. She knew telling her mistress the truth about why she hadn’t sewn the button on her favorite dress would only get her in trouble. She had worked here long enough to know that being too busy to get to every task in a given day was no excuse. So, instead of telling the truth, she fed words through her lips that made her despise her very soul. “Because I am lazy and useless, mistress. I promise I will be better.”

  “You better be,” the countess glared at her. “Do it now. I want to wear that dress to dinner tonight.”

  “Yes, mistress,” Abigail said and slunk away, trying not to cry. She didn’t even know why she still cried anymore, because things had been this way for several years now.

  When the countess’ husband, Herbert Johnson, Earl of Kestworth, was still alive, she had been slightly less harsh. Abigail was never sure whether the couple was in love or whether they were just a convenient marriage, but either way, Lady Charlotte had been slightly kinder back in those days. She still ruled her household with an iron fist and never let anything get past her eagle-eyed gaze, but she didn’t use quite such insulting terms, at least.

  When the elder Lord Johnson passed away, Charlotte’s heart had apparently turned to stone. Despite the fact that Abigail’s mother, Mary, had faithfully served the family as a chambermaid for several years, Charlotte had sent her away without a second glance when she fell ill and demanded that Abigail work in her place.

  Abigail had always thought that she would be a chambermaid like her mother, and so she didn’t protest. She was just brokenhearted at the situation she was in now; working here while her mother was ill and needed her far away in their tiny countryside shack. She wanted nothing more than to be at her mother’s side. However, Abigail knew that she needed to work in order to keep up with her mother’s doctor’s bills and pay for her medication, and so she woke up every day before the sun to do so.

  As a chambermaid, Abigail wasn’t even allowed to look at any family members in the eye. She kept her head down so much that she was sure her neck was permanently bent that way. She had barely ever seen Lord Jeremy, the new head of the household. Lord Jeremy was the twenty-nine-year-old son of Herbert and Charlotte and from what Abigail could tell, he was newly betrothed.

  She also heard, through the other servants’ whispers and rumors, that Lord Jeremy was not happy about his betrothal to a certain Lady Rose, and that’s why Lady Charlotte was in such a foul mood of late.

  Abigail didn’t know the entirety of the situation but she sided with the young lord, even though she didn’t know him. She had always thought that when the time came for her to marry, it would be for love. When the bards came to play at the manor house, she would often stand behind the wall and listen with shining eyes to the tales that they sang. Whenever the good Lord saw it fit for her to have a husband, she knew she would love him with all her heart. And if she didn’t, she certainly wasn’t going to marry him. There wasn’t anyone in this world who could stop her. Her mother supported her, and her father was long gone.

  The only one who could stop her from marrying for love was Lady Charlotte, really. Lady Charlotte made sure that Abigail worked from dawn to dust and never had a moment off when she could even dream of meeting someone.

  Abigail wiped the tears from her eyes as she entered the servants’ quarters with the dress and the button that needed to be sewn on. As the chambermaid, her duties were made up of kitchen work, housework, and whatever the ladies’ maids couldn’t finish.

  Mrs. Perry, the cook, looked up at her as she entered.

  “Is the mistress cross again?” she asked with a knowing look.

  “It’s fine,” Abigail said. “Really, it is. I was wrong. I went to bed early last night and …”

  “Dearie, you went to bed long after the rest of us,” Mrs. Perry protested. “And you were up long before the rest of us, too. She can’t expect you to do everything.”

  “She can,” Abigail said, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. If her mother was here, she’d tell her to hold her head high. “Let me just sew on this button and then I’ll help you with the dishes.”

  Mrs. Perry glanced at the sun out the window, and sighed.

  “Better hurry, then,” she said. “Or we won’t have enough time to start supper.”

  “I think she expects me to be my mother,” Abigail said, looking up to make sure there was no one else in the room. “But my mother had twenty years of experience doing these things, and she was much faster than me. I can’t do everything as fast as her. I can hardly do anything as fast as her, really. I just …”

  “Ssh, dearie,” Mrs. Perry said, trying to soothe her. “Your mother would be proud of you. And when she gets back, she’ll see what a good job you have done.”

  Abigail didn’t say anything to that because it would break her heart if she did. The truth was, she was pretty sure that her mother was not coming back. Mary had been so ill for so long, and she was lame on her right side and blind in her left eye from a fever that had nearly killed her. Even if she recovered from her most recent ailments, she definitely couldn’t come back to work as a chambermaid.

  Abigail didn’t want to break her colleagues’ spirits by telling them the truth, so she focused on sewing on the button instead, her eyes blurred with tears.

  “I heard that he refused her on the spot,” said a voice, and Abigail spun around to see Gwen, one of the maids, talking to Sabine.

  “He wouldn’t dare,” Sabine said as they entered the servants’ quarters. “Not in front of his mother!”

  “But he did,” Gwen said. Abigail gathered that they were talking about Lord Jeremy and his betrothed, Lady Rose. She leaned in closer to listen. She knew that she shouldn’t eavesdrop and that her mother wouldn’t be proud of her. However, at the moment, she felt like filling her head with other people’s problems was better than thinking about her own.

  “But why?” Sabine asked. “She’s so pretty, and she’s from a good family. The few times I’ve waited on her, she’s always been very kind. I don’t really see the problem.”

  “Maybe he has a secret lover somewhere else,” Gwen whispered and both girls collapsed into the chairs, giggling.

  “Ladies!” Mrs. Perry scolded them. “That is not a decent conversation to be having.”

  “Maybe not,” Gwen replied, when she could finally speak. “But it would explain many things.”

  “The family’s affairs are none of your business,” Mrs. Perry said. “Now, if you’re not going to be helpful here, you should go outside. You’re distracting Abigail and me, and we’re working hard.”

  “I’m actually done,” Abigail said, not wanting to cause tension. She
already knew that some of the other servants looked down on her because she wasn’t properly trained. Most servants started when they were children and grew up working. Abigail had been lucky, and her mother had kept her home until she had fallen ill. They had never had much money but they had a little cottage nearby to live in, and that had been enough. When her mother had fallen ill, they’d had to take their savings and move off the property so that another servant’s family could move in. Abigail hated every moment of being away from her mother, and she tried not to dislike the family that lived in the cottage now. None of this was their fault, after all.

  “Are you?” Mrs. Perry looked impressed. “That was fast. Perhaps you will be as fast as your mother after all, dearie.”

  “Oh no,” Abigail blushed. “It was easy, that’s all. Now, you wanted help with the pots and pans?”

  “Yes, start on this big one left over from lunch, and we’ll go from there.”

  Scrubbing dishes meant that Abigail could lose herself in the work. Instead of worrying about her mother or thinking about the gossip around her, she focused on the task at hand. She scrubbed so hard that her elbows hurt, but the pots and pans were clean and sparkling in time for the dinner to begin being cooked.

  “What do you think?” Sabine asked her once dinner was in the oven and they were sitting down in the servants’ quarters for their own dinner. They always ate before the family so that they could be ready to work when the dining room needed to be served.

  “About what?” Abigail asked, confused.

  “Well, about Lord Jeremy refusing Lady Rose,” Sabine said. “Do you think he’ll give in, in the end? Everyone gives in to Lady Charlotte in the end.”

  “You know …” Mrs. Perry apparently didn’t mind a bit of gossip while they were idle. “She wasn’t always like that.”

  “She wasn’t?” Abigail asked.

  “No,” Mrs. Perry said, spooning some beef stew into her mouth. “I was about your age when I started working here, and Lady Charlotte was newly married, just seventeen. She was ... different then. Meek. Kind, even. The old earl taught her how to run a household and how to be a grand lady, and she took it to her head.”

  “But she was still kinder before he died,” Sabine said. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

  “She was,” Abigail remembered. Something occurred to her then that hadn’t occurred to her before. “Do you think ... she’s still grieving him?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Perry asked. “After all those years? Even if you didn’t fall in love with the man, you’d still miss him. He wasn’t a monster.”

  “I think I would,” Abigail said, surprising her colleagues. “I am going to fall in love with my husband, and I’m sure I won’t be able to go on if he perishes before me.”

  “Where is this magical husband going to come from, exactly?” Sabine asked, and Abigail shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just know that I’m going to marry for love.”

  “And I’m going to marry a prince and head off to a castle and live happily ever after,” Gwen said and the whole table laughed.

  Abigail looked down at her dinner and kept quiet for the rest of the meal. She wished her mother was here, to tell her to follow her dreams, or at least believe in herself. Instead, all she had was Mrs. Perry’s sad smile from across the table.

  Normally, Abigail really looked forward to dinner with her colleagues. Today, however, Abigail couldn’t wait for it to be over. Abigail finished as quickly as she could and offered to help clear many more dishes than she normally did. When the others scattered for the family’s dinner, she lost herself in her chores, waiting impatiently for the moment when she could just go to bed and forget the world.

  The hours slipped by and soon, her chores for the day were done. She was bone-tired and hoped that no one else would invent anything for her to do. She was grateful when the time came to slip away to the garden, to pray for her mother, and then close her eyes. At the very least, her prayers wouldn’t be criticized.

  Chapter 2

  Abigail made a habit of going to the garden every night before bed. It was one of her habits that she had kept up after her mother went away. She and her mother used to go into the garden almost every day, and she felt closer to her there.

  Abigail was allowed in the gardens, and it was one of the few places she felt she could be without anyone yelling at her. Lady Charlotte often yelled at her in every other place, and she loved sitting peacefully on the bench, with no interruptions or bad memories attached to it.

  She liked to watch the sun set, and the moon rise. Some nights, she prayed; some nights she simply sat and watched the small movements of the birds, who were often settling in for the night as well.

  Today, she was sitting in silence, watching the moon rise, when she heard a noise behind her.

  She didn’t react at first because she wasn’t doing anything wrong. However, the rustling got closer, and she heard a voice as well.

  Turning around, Abigail was surprised to see Lord Jeremy walking through the garden. His head was bowed, and he was deep in thought. He was muttering to himself, and the more she strained her ears to listen, the more she realized he was practicing for something.

  “Mother, I’m not interested in Lady Rose because … Mother, I can’t marry Lady Rose simply because I cannot see a future with her … Mother, I don’t want to marry if it’s not …”

  Abigail cleared her throat because she didn’t want to embarrass him.

  Jeremy looked up in shock and then blushed. “I didn’t realize there was someone else here. My apologies.”

  “I apologize for sitting here so long,” Abigail said carefully. She kept her face down for fear that Lady Charlotte would pop around the corner at any moment and scold her for looking at the handsome young lord.

  It was Abigail’s turn to blush when she had that thought. She really wasn’t supposed to think that Lord Jeremy was anything but her superior, and she shouldn’t look at him. She looked at her hands, hoping that they would provide an instant distraction.

  “You are entitled to sit here, I assume?” he asked with a smile. “My apologies, I don’t recognize you?”

  “I uh …” she stuttered nervously. “Abigail.”

  “Abigail,” he responded warmly. “And you are …”

  “I work here,” she whispered, afraid that he would cast her out there and then.

  “Oh,” he said, and then switched topics, surprising her. “So you’ve heard of my predicament, then.”

  “I have,” she admitted. “But it’s not my place to say anything, my lord.”

  “No, of course not, of course not,” he responded. He didn’t make any move to leave, and Abigail, on a whim, slid as far down on the bench as she could. To her surprise, Jeremy came to sit beside her. “It is … I can’t speak to anyone about it. I suppose you would be bound to keep a secret?”

  “A secret, my lord?” she asked.

  “If I told you what I wanted to say to my mother, would you tell me if it sounded all right?”

  He looked so desperate that Abigail didn’t want to deny him. Even in the dying light, she could see that his wide eyes were pleading with her to simply listen.

  “Of course,” she said. “What did you want to say?”

  Jeremy cleared his throat.

  “Just that ... my betrothed, at least, my betrothed that my mother thinks is suitable ... is not suitable. I have no qualms about Lady Rose, but she is not the match I want. She does not share my views or opinions. She is ... in a word, complacent, and I am not. I want expansion, I want adventure, and she is passive and quiet.”

  Abigail considered his smooth voice and then spoke the truth from her heart.

  “Those are wonderful reasons, my lord,” she said. “A marriage that is expected to be a growing partnership must be more than an initial alliance.”

  He raised his brows, surprised. “That is quite the clever answer,” he replied. “Have you put much
thought into something like this?”

  “I have put thought into my own marriage,” she admitted. “And what I would want ... whenever the time comes.”

  He looked her right in the eye, and she looked away.

  “So you are not married?”

  “No,” she said. “Not yet.”

  He considered this for a few moments and then spoke gently.

  “And your parents, have they considered making a match for you yet?”

  “Oh,” Abigail answered sadly. “There is just my mother and she isn’t very well. So I am on my own.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” he said. “Does she live far away?”

  “She used to live and work here, actually,” Abigail said. “She is unwell, so I am her replacement.”

  “I don’t know my mother’s arrangements with the female servants,” he admitted. “But I hope that she is being taken care of?”

  “She is,” Abigail assured him, even though that wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t want to speak ill of his mother in front of him. She was amazed that he was even speaking to her at all, given the circumstances. He seemed desperate for conversation on the subject, and she could understand not having anyone to talk to. Since her mother left, there really wasn’t anyone she felt comfortable opening up to.

  “Well, that is good to hear at least,” he said, and then stared out into the distance. She followed his gaze, and they sat in silence for a bit. She felt comfortable in the silence, which was an odd feeling. Normally, Abigail stuttered nervously to fill any silences, including with her friends and her mother. The idea that she felt comfortable with the lord of the house didn’t seem right to her.

  “I apologize if I’ve talked your ear off,” he said, after a long moment. “But this is actually quite nice.”

  “It is,” she agreed, surprising herself. “I also didn’t ... you have taught me something. I thought noble marriages were set in stone.”

  “Noble marriages are set in stone,” he answered with half a chuckle. “Noble betrothals are sometimes the same. But since my father died, I am hoping to have a little more pull while still honoring my mother’s wishes. I don’t want her to be upset or hurt. She has been so upset since my father died. I don’t ... do you remember him?”