Page 3 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
The door closed behind her.
The Young Lord continued to regard Adeline, his expression careful and precise, like she was a creature to be studied. It was not exactly pleasant, his mismatched gaze unwavering. “Are you fishing for compliments?” he asked eventually.
Adeline raised an eyebrow. “Not from you,” she said, more sharply than she meant to.
He leaned back in his seat, folding his good hand under his chin. “You’re awfully impertinent for someone on their first day.”
“Impertinent but intelligent.”
“I could have you dismissed.”
Adeline didn’t point out she hadn’t technically been offered the job yet, but she felt emboldened by what she assumed was a complete lack of other suitable candidates. “All right then,” she said. “Do it.”
“You don’t think I will?”
“All your other attendants have given up and run out of here screaming. I don’tthinkyou’ve actually dismissed any.”
He growled. “There’s always a first.”
“I suppose so. Do you have any questions for me?"
He tilted his head. “I’m sure I’ll think of some,” he said. “But you better go see what Old Minty wants you to do.” He waved a hand dismissively.
Mrs Minton met her in the corridor. “That went well,” she said. “Go home and pack your bags, Miss Elsing. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”
Chapter Two: First Day
“You will address him as Young Lord, Young Master, or My Lord,” Mrs Minton explained the next day. “But you mustn’t use ‘My Lord’ if his father is present. Which he won’t be,” she added afterwards, with something that sounded like regret. “You need to be in the kitchen by eight sharp to take up breakfast. Collect lunch at one. He’ll ring for dinner when he requires it. After that point, you’re dismissed for the day, unless he should call for you during the night. Sunday is your day off, with two half days per month at your leisure. During the day, you’re to clean his room and help him dress, as well as fetch anything he asks for. He may not want to see you much. There’s a chair outside where you can sit until he has need of you. Sewing may be provided from time to time, or other light tasks you can do from your post. Perhaps bring a book just in case. And if… if he has one of his moods, just ring the bell and step outside.”
Adeline paused. “Moods?”
“The Young Lord has a temper problem,” she explained. “It’s best to keep a safe distance when he does.”
She handed Adeline a uniform in the light cerulean colour that marked her as one of the middle staff at the Manor. Grey or brown was for the gardeners, scullery staff and laundry maids. Cerulean marked out the servants reporting directly to the family; librarians, scholars, personal attendants, valets. Deep blue was reserved for the butler and housekeeper. There was little in the way of the middle staff right now, with the Young Lord’s father, Duke Edvard Von Mortimer, absent from the estate. As far as Adeline knew, he hadn’t been home in years, and there was no lady to serve since his Duchess died four years ago.
Adeline had some memory of the late Liana Von Mortimer. She had visited the village many times. She had been incredibly beautiful and elegant, with a serene and kind air about her. She didn’t think they had spoken, but she’d visited the village school once in Adeline’s youth and read them a story.
“Any questions?” Mrs Minton asked.
“None right now.”
Mrs Minton took her down to the servants’ quarters and showed her to her new room to change. It was a simple space, small but comfortable, with a little window that afforded a view of the herb garden. A scent of hot rosemary and violets drifted on the breeze. Adeline wondered if she might be permitted to take clippings.
Her small trunk had already been delivered by a footman, containing a few changes of clothes, a writing kit, a hairbrush and a set of hairpins, rags, and a sewing bag. She wished she’d thought to pack a few books.
“I’ll leave you to get ready,” said Mrs Minton. “I’ll have one of the maids give you a tour when you’re done. Someone else will do breakfast this morning. I’ll see you at lunch.”
Adeline dutifully did as she was asked, pulling on the uniform. It was made of a soft, sturdy material, with a lace collar and cuffs. The apron was delicately embroidered with the family crest; two keys fashioned like blades over a gate woven with lilies. She wound her honey-brown hair into a braid and pinned it under the white, frilled cap, tucking in any strands. She looked nice. Neat and clean and presentable. Quite the part.
There was a quiet knock on the door. A small slip of a girl in a brown dress appeared in the doorway, all big doe eyes and dark hair. She reminded Adeline a little of her thirteen-year-old sister Leonie, and she felt a sudden, strange pang for home, a realisation that she wouldn’t be seeing them for a week; the longest she had ever been away from any of them.
“I’m Erabella,” said the maid sweetly. “Mrs Minton asked me to show you around.”
“Adeline. My friends call me Adie.”
She gave a small smile. “Shall we?”
Erabella asked the usual questions as she showed Adeline round the servants’ quarters: where she’d come from, her years of experience, where she’d heard about the post. Erabella’s family had been serving the Von Mortimers for generations, typical for servants of stately homes.
