Page 13 of A Maid's Fateful Courtship
Upon opening the door to the busy kitchen, she took in a deep breath. Back to the kitchens and the bustle of the household staff. Walking over to the sink area, she handed Ethan’s breakfast tray over to the scullery maid, Sally.
“Ah, you are back then!” a familiar voice called over to her.
Josephine smiled at Sally as the girl took the tray from her, and she turned around to see Lettie grinning back at her.
“I have missed you so,” Lettie announced. “Thought we had lost you forever ‘cos the lord had stolen away my best friend.”
Josephine looked at Lettie with a wide-eyed stare, her cheeks flushing at such a thought. Her mouth opened to reply but the words stuck in her throat as she watched her cheeky friend wink at her.
“I was only doing my duty,” Josephine managed a reply.
“And you did it well,” Martha said as she passed them by. “Stop this idle tittle-tattle Lettie, and get about your duties," the cook ordered her daughter. "Now then, Josephine, I hear the young lord is almost recovered thanks to your ministrations.”
“Yes. The poison has left his body,” Josephine said in her formal voice. “I will return to my housekeeping duties this very day. How is Doreen?”
“Oh, she has left you a list of jobs as long as your arm,” Lettie said. Josephine laughed as she noted that Lettie still lingered close by, chopping vegetables on a wooden board. “I heard the upstairs maids gossiping that the Missus is on her last legs, is that true?”
“The upstairs maids should be too busy for gossiping,” Josephine chaffed. It caused her to scowl at the thought of the maids being so disrespectful towards Doreen. “I will be off to put them in line, right this minute.”
Martha approached her, taking her by the arm and leading her away to speak in private.
“Me and Doreen have been at Sarandale Manor a long, long time. How is she really doing?” Martha asked, looking worried for her lifelong friend. “Whenever I see her, she pretends that all is well, but I can tell something is amiss.”
“She has been giving me more and more responsibilities because she hopes to leave us soon,” Josephine told her.
“Oh, my good God! So, she really is dying?” Martha asked, her face drip white.
“No, no, it is not that!” Josephine assured her. “She is hoping to retire to her sister’s home in Brighton.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that! You had me worried for a minute. Can you nurse her back to health as you did for Lord Ethan?”
“The only thing affecting Doreen is old age,” Josephine said in a low voice. “Her aches and pains grow worse every day. She will soon be speaking to the marquess about leaving.”
“Yes, the sea air in Brighton will do her good,” Martha said. “It will be better for her health.”
Josephine nodded. “It is what she wants. I am sure she will speak to you about it soon enough, but for now, keep it quiet.”
Martha nodded. “I intend on visiting with her when I have finished with the evening meal. I will take a bit of the cooking brandy with me. Then we can have a good old moan about our aches and pains stopping us from moving around as fast as we used to, the said, laughing as she walked away and back to her kitchen duties.
“Will you be taking this tray of soup to His Lordship?” Lettie asked Josephine, holding the tray towards her.
“Erm… yes.” She nodded. “I will still be serving Lord Ethan his meals whilst he chooses to stay in his room. Though I would not be surprised if he does not turn up in the dining room for breakfast in the morning.”
Smiling at her friend, Josephine took the tray and set off up the stairway that would lead her to the corridor of bed chambers. Her thoughts were pleasant ones. She would take every opportunity to continue caring for Ethan for as long as she could. Although her next job would be to hunt down the upper floor housemaids and give them a good talking to.
Upon noticing a crooked picture hanging on the wall, she placed the tray on a small sideboard. Standing on her tiptoes to reach the frame, she wiggled at it to straighten the picture up again. She would be having words with the maid who dusted it; they should always check that they left the frames straight.
As her heels touched the ground, she shifted around to pick the tray back up again. As she did so, her body collided with something solid, causing her to stagger back to the wall.
“Oh!” she gasped, the collision unbalancing her feet.
Stepping back, she knew she had bumped into someone, but she did not know who it was. The aroma of tobacco on the person’s breath told her it was a man. His warm breath had hit her cheek as they had slammed together.
Before her, giving her no room to move from the wall at her back, stood Cedric. He glowered down at her with a dark, foreboding expression.
“Why are you still tending to my brother?” he asked abruptly.
“Erm… Lord Cedric, my apologies for not seeing you there, sir,” she stuttered.
