Hope - Lesley Pearse [89]
Nell was tempted to snap at her and launch right in and tell her how her night had been. But, as always, she murmured sympathy as she put a light wool shawl round her mistress’s shoulders and plumped up the pillows behind her back.
‘Rose didn’t get the bathwater hot enough last night either,’ Lady Harvey went on. ‘I think she resented me asking for one!’
‘She had been working since five in the morning,’ Nell said as she put the tray of tea across the woman’s lap. ‘She has to clean the whole of the house now, do the laundry and help Cook. I expect she was just very tired.’
‘But it’s her job to clean and fetch and carry!’ Lady Harvey said indignantly.
Nell bit back a sharp remark and went over to the windows to pull back the curtains. It was a grey, cold day, and the trees along the drive were skeletal and gaunt without their leaves, making the gatehouse clearly visible. She remembered how thrilled she’d been when Sir William said she and Albert could live there. She had been so excited at the idea of them having a home of their own she couldn’t sleep at night. But that was before the wedding. All those daydreams of a baby in her arms, a loving, caring husband, and her family visiting had all come to nothing.
As she turned back from the window, she picked up from the floor the dress that her mistress had worn to travel in the previous day.
‘There’s a bloodstain on that,’ Lady Harvey said sharply. ‘My courses must have begun while we were coming home. See to it, Nell.’
Nell looked at the woman she had adored and served selflessly for so many years, and suddenly saw her for what she really was; spoiled, vain and entirely self-centred. Even at forty-two, she was still beautiful, her blue silk nightgown the exact colour of her eyes, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and skin like porcelain. But there was a permanent sulky droop to her mouth and frown lines on her forehead from spending far too much time in a resentful state because her life hadn’t turned out as well as she had expected.
‘I will see to the dress,’ Nell said. ‘After I’ve talked to you about Hope.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to talk about that silly girl,’ Lady Harvey said irritably. ‘She’s made her bed, Nell, she must lie in it. Now, do you think the black satin dress I wore for the ball in Bath while I was still in mourning for my mother could be altered to make an afternoon dress? It has yards and yards of very fine material.’
Nell gritted her teeth. ‘I must talk to you about Hope, mam. You see, I think Albert has killed her.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Nell.’ Lady Harvey gave a humourless laugh. ‘She ran off with a soldier. Even Baines has seen her letter. How on earth could you think Albert killed her? He’s such a sweet, gentle man.’
Nell stood her ground. ‘Look at my face,’ she insisted.
Lady Harvey lowered her teacup and glanced up at Nell. ‘It is exceedingly flushed, what have you done?’
‘I haven’t done anything. That was a slap from sweet, gentle Albert. He’s a brute, Lady Harvey. He’s hit me dozens of times, and Hope too. Now I believe he’s killed her.’
Lady Harvey tossed her head in total disbelief and plonked her teacup down into the saucer. ‘I won’t hear any more of this rubbish,’ she said dismissively. ‘Hope is a stupid little whore who would rather be fucked than work for a living.’
Nell’s mouth fell open in shock and horror at the vile and defamatory statement.
It was bad enough that her mistress had no sympathy for Nell, or concern about a young girl who had once played with her son. But to call Hope a stupid whore, to suggest she’d choose a life like that because she was too lazy to work here in the kitchens made Nell’s blood boil. She couldn’t let that go unchallenged.
‘Well, you’d know about being a stupid whore, wouldn’t you?’ she retorted, wanting to rip the face off the woman. ‘But you had Bridie and me to cover up your indiscretion.’
Lady Harvey looked astounded,