The Swan Maid

‘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.

Chapter Four (#ud960f709-5c08-5551-98ef-43269ff9918b)

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 muck heap in the corner of the stable yard.

‘Jem.’ Lottie had to raise her voice in order to be heard above the clatter of horses’ hoofs and the deep drone of men’s voices. ‘Jem, will you fetch her ladyship’s luggage?’

He leaned the besom against the wall and came towards her, wiping his hands on the seat of his breeches. ‘So it’s true. You really are leaving us?’

‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jem. I’ll get the chance to travel and see the world.’

‘You’ll see a lot of things you don’t want to see,’ he said grimly. ‘I ain’t been to war, but I’ve heard the soldiers talking, and it don’t appeal to me. I’d rather slave away for Filby than risk my neck on the battlefield.’

‘I’m a lady’s maid now. Lady Aurelia has been on numerous campaigns with her husband, and she’s come through without a scratch. I’ll be with her, so I’ll be safe, and I might be of service to some of the wounded soldiers.’

Jem’s habitual grin faded into a frown. ‘You’d best watch out for them soldiers, or who knows how you might end up?’

‘I’m not a fool,’ Lottie said angrily. ‘I know what I’m doing, and you might at least try to be happy for me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life working from dawn to dusk for a pittance.’

‘Maybe you’re right. I suppose joining the army would be a way out. It can’t be worse than this. Anyway, Trotter was telling me that the railways will put an end to mail coaches, and it’s already happening.’

‘You don’t have to be a soldier in order to get away from here. You could become an engine driver or a guard on the railway. You could do anything you set your mind to,’ Lottie said thoughtfully. ‘Anyway, you’d best fetch her ladyship’s things. Lieutenant Gillingham ordered the carriage for half-past six, so it should be here soon.’

Jem gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself, Lottie. I’ll miss you, girl.’

‘I’ll miss you too.’ Lottie watched him as he loped off to take the outside stairs two at a time. She was sorry to leave Jem, who had been her true friend, but her spirit of adventure had been awakened and she was eager for new experiences. She waited, clutching the small valise that contained Lady Aurelia’s valuables, and it occurred to her suddenly that she ought to inform Uncle Sefton of her change in circumstances. It would be several months until she attained her majority, and he was still her guardian, even though she had not had any contact with him since starting work at The Swan. She was still thinking about it when Lady Aurelia appeared on the balcony, with Jem close behind staggering beneath the weight of her various valises and carpet- bags.

Lottie’s stomach churned with excitement as she heard the sound of approaching horses’ hoofs and the hired carriage was driven into the stable yard and came to a halt. Gillingham strolled out of the taproom and tossed a coin to Jem as he hefted the luggage into the growler.

‘Good grief,’ Aurelia said, laughing. ‘I thought I was travelling lighter than this. I’m afraid you’ll have to sit on the box with the driver, Farrell.’

He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, my lady. I intend to ride and I’ve hired a hack for the purpose.’

‘I would prefer to ride also but, as you see, I am not dressed for it.’ Aurelia glanced down at her elegant travelling outfit. ‘At least when I’m abroad I can get away with conduct that would be considered unseemly at home.’ She turned to Lottie with a mischievous chuckle. ‘Are you sure you want to be connected to a woman who breaks all the rules?’

‘More than ever, my lady,’ Lottie said firmly. ‘I want to be just like you.’

‘D’you hear that, Farrell? I have a staunch ally at last. Poor Merriweather was forever telling me that my actions were not those of a lady, and now I have carte blanche to do exactly as I please.’

Farrell helped Jem to place the trunk on end beside the driver. ‘I doubt if the colonel will approve, my lady.’

‘Dashwood adores me, as you very well know. He supports me in all that I do.’ Aurelia allowed Jem to hand her into the carriage. ‘Come along, Lottie. We’ve thirty or forty miles to go before we’re in Chatham, and by the looks of that clear sky it’s going to be another hot day.’ She settled herself in the corner. ‘You may sit beside me. I don’t expect you to perch on the roof or run behind.’

Lottie climbed in and made herself as small as possible, not wanting to cramp her mistress or to crease the voluminous skirts of Aurelia’s pale green poplin de laine gown. ‘I learn quickly, my lady, but this is all very new to me.’

‘Of course it is,’ Aurelia agreed, smiling. ‘You have had an extraordinary life for one so young, and I promise you it will be anything less than ordinary from now on.’ Aurelia closed her eyes. ‘I am going to have a nap. Wake me when we stop to change horses.’ Her perky straw hat slipped over one eye as she leaned back against the squabs.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived outside the house in Chatham. Set in a large garden, surrounded by trees, with well-kept lawns and neat flowerbeds, the three-storey building looked comfortable and solid. The white stucco gleamed in the afternoon sunshine and pink roses clambered over the stone portico. A maidservant rushed out, followed by a man wearing a leather apron, who hefted the trunk from the driver’s seat as if it were filled with feathers instead of the weighty contents of Lady Aurelia’s clothes press.

Farrell had ridden alongside them for most of the way, but had gone on ahead when they neared their destination, and was waiting to hand Aurelia from the carriage. Lottie was the first to alight and she stood on the path feeling shy and apprehensive. It was too late to change her mind, but she felt shabby and out of place in her new surroundings. The housemaid fixed her with a curious stare, but neither of them spoke.

Aurelia sailed into the house, leaving Lottie little alternative but to follow in her wake.

The interior was spacious, and cool air wafted in through open windows, adding the scent of roses to that of lavender and beeswax polish. The stark whiteness of the walls was relieved by large oil paintings, mostly scenes of victorious military battles, and a cocked hat had been left on a pier table as if to emphasise the fact that this was a soldier’s residence. Aurelia took off her straw bonnet and tossed it in the air so that it landed on a marble bust of the Iron Duke.

Her merry laughter seemed to bring the silent house to life. ‘A direct hit, every time.’ She turned to Gillingham. ‘I’ll wager you couldn’t do as well, Farrell.’

He tucked his shako under his arm. ‘I’m sure you’re right, my lady.’

‘Don’t be a spoilsport.’ Aurelia snatched the hat from the duke, where it had hung over his sightless eyes at a rakish angle, and she placed it on Gillingham’s head. ‘Give me a smile, Farrell.’ She seized his shako and put it on. ‘How do I look?’

‘Dashing, as always, my lady.’

‘Lottie, remind me to order a shako from my milliner.’ Aurelia peered at her reflection in one of the many gilt-framed mirrors. ‘It is rather fetching.’