Page 4 of The Ones Left Behind
Mrs. Harlow insisted Kitty sleep in one of the guest rooms. It seemed intrusive, but as none of the family were in residence, she gave in and chose her old bedchamber. Little had changed since she had been there as a girl. The walls were still papered in a pink and cream striped paper, and the carpet and coverlet were in matching hues, although they had faded over the years. Some of her dolls sat on a table in the corner just as she had left them.
It might now be a bit shabby with age, but she was flooded with memories and it felt like home.
Home. It was something she had not felt in years. There was no such thing while following the drum and since she had returned to England, she had rented small rooms in the most respectable boarding house she could afford and shared with several other women.
There had been no time to grieve—she had moved from surviving in an army camp to trying to survive in London. It seemed as though the city was full of people desperate for work. She had spent the first year trying to find respectable employment as a governess or a companion, but it had proved impossible to be hired without a personal connection or reference. As the money from Peter’s brother had begun to dwindle, she had worked as a seamstress, but it did not bring in enough to pay for both rent and food.
When she had finally become desperate enough to consider selling her body, she had swallowed her pride and decided to beg for work at Thackeray Close.
Now she was in that very house, with a warm bed and food, but she felt guilty for it. She had no right to such luxury. The words still sounded in her head as though it were yesterday:Ungrateful traitor.
Regardless of what Mrs. Harlow thought, Kitty determined she would learn to carry out the duties of a housekeeper. That way, Matthias—she must remember to think of him as his lordship—would have no reason not to employ her when he returned.
The next morning, Kitty was up early. Sleeping late was only for the rich and it had been years since she had thought herself anywhere near that status. She was intent on learning everything from Mrs. Harlow, irrespective of how the housekeeper felt about it.
She went to the housekeeper’s rooms and knocked on the door. “Good morning, Mrs. Harlow.”
“Miss Kitty! You should not be in the servants’ quarters.”
“I will not be swayed, Mrs. Harlow. What harm would it do to teach me how to manage a household?”
She shook her head. “His lordship will not be pleased, Miss Kitty, but I suppose I could show you a few things. If you remarry, you might have need to run a large establishment.”
“Thank you,” Kitty said, with more relief than she could express. “Perhaps you should call me Mrs. Gordon now.”
The housekeeper eyed her in a sideways fashion. “You do know that name will cause more of a stir than aught else?”
“Perhaps Sir Nigel should have thought of that before he refused to house me.”
The housekeeper fought back a smile. “Some might say it would serve him right, I suppose. Very well, come along then. Every morning, I make my rounds to ensure all the servants are awake and performing their duties. The fires must be lit in the winter and the chamber pots emptied before the family awakens.”
Kitty knew this from being one of them.
“Cook oversees matters in the kitchens, of course, but we work together if there is a large dinner. We have not had one of those in years, though I will do my best to ensure that you are ready for one. The butler, Mr. Hayes, oversees all the servants, including myself, but he is new enough that he gives me no trouble,” Mrs. Harlow said with a mischievous smile.
She led Kitty up the stairs to the linen closet. “Linens are counted every week, after all the chambers are aired and linens washed.”
“Even the empty ones?” Kitty asked.
“Even the empty ones,” Mrs. Harlow confirmed.
They went back down the stairs to the receiving rooms, where maids were busy dusting and taking carpets outside to be beaten. Mrs. Harlow looked on with approval before taking Kitty back to her rooms.
“My other main duty is going over the menus with his lordship, when he is here. He has always been easy to please and is happy with most anything I suggest.” She showed Kitty a list of meals that she rotated through, and even Kitty recognized several of Matthias’s favourites.
“When none of the family are in residence, Cook takes care of feeding the servants.”
She waved Kitty into a seat in her small sitting room, which was cozy with pink papered walls, embroidered pillows covering the chairs and shelves of trinkets. “That is the sum of it.”
Kitty looked at her with suspicion. “That cannot be all.”
“I am afraid it is. The house is well run, I say with no small measure of pride.”
“It always has been,” Kitty agreed. “Perhaps I could assist you with some of your duties?”
The housekeeper looked a little disgruntled. Kitty knew she was trying to fob her off, but she would be persistent.
“I suppose the still-room would benefit from some attention. The herb garden does not thrive as it did when her ladyship had it in her care. You used to help her with it, did you not?”
