Amanda Scott by The Bawdy Bride Page A

here, Elbert?”
    He showed her a rag he held in one hand, saying glibly, “The looking glass over the table yonder has got fly specks all over it. Mr. Bagshaw wanted it cleaned, and he don’t trust the younger lads with anything so fragile. Since I didn’t have time to attend to it before your ladyship came to breakfast, I’m doing it now.”
    “I see. You ought not to be doing such a messy chore in your livery, you know, and in future, if you rub the frame of the glass well with garlic or onion, you will not have so much to clean.”
    He grinned at her. “I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Bagshaw, ma’am. No call to attend to it now though, if you’ve need of me. I’ll just be putting this rag away, and then I’m yours to command.”
    “Not just now, Elbert,” Anne said gently. “I have no commands for you, so you will do better to finish the task Bagshaw assigned to you. First, however, you must go and put on an apron to protect your livery, and I suggest that you take off your jacket, too, so that it does not become soiled.”
    He stared at her, but her gaze remained steady, and after a long moment, he bowed and moved toward the door. In the same gentle tone, Anne said, “Ask Mrs. Burdekin to provide you with some powder blue, Elbert, and a woollen cloth to polish the glass after you have cleaned it with that damp cotton rag you have. And please do not forget to rub the frame with garlic afterward.”
    “Yes, madam.” His cheeks now as red as the housemaid’s, Elbert fled.
    Anne waited until the door had shut behind him to say, “What is your name, please?”
    “Jane, your ladyship. Jane Hinkle.” The maid’s voice was low-pitched and well modulated, and Anne surmised from her careful speech and increasing air of confidence that she had been well trained and was an upper housemaid, not one of the menials. That she was still nervous was also clear. “I-I’m sorry, madam,” she said when Anne did not immediately reply.
    “Why are you sorry, Jane? Did you encourage his attention?”
    “Oh, no, madam.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I would never do such a thing, for I was raised strict. Please, ma’am, believe me.
    “I do believe you,” Anne said, remembering the indignant protest she had overheard. She regarded the maid thoughtfully.
    “Please, madam, I hope you will not think it necessary to complain of this incident to Mrs. Burdekin or Mr. Bagshaw. They will not be so willing to take my word, I fear.”
    “Why not?” Anne asked, surprised, since Jane Hinkle seemed at first appearance to be more sensible and dignified than most young maidservants, and certainly more worthy of belief than Elbert.
    “I-I am rather new to Upminster, madam, and Elbert was born on the estate. They are bound to take his word over mine.”
    “And would he speak falsely to them?”
    “H-he would say that I provoked him,” Jane said. “He said as much to me, so no doubt he believes it to be the truth, but indeed, madam, I did no such thing.”
    “I think I will have a word with Mrs. Burdekin,” Anne said.
    “That won’t help,” Jane said with a sigh. Then, clearly recalling her place, she bit her lip and looked worriedly at Anne.
    “But surely, since it is Burdekin’s duty to see to the maids’ welfare, she ought to be told when these things occur,” Anne said.
    “She is Mr. Bagshaw’s cousin, madam. Indeed, save for myself and one or two other maids, all the servants here at Upminster are either sons and daughters of other servants or of tenants on the estate. And Mr. Bagshaw, ma’am, holds firm by the notion that any such encounters between maids and menservants are provoked by the maids. I value my position, madam. I do not want to lose it.”
    Anne nodded. “Very well, Jane, then I suggest that henceforth you make certain to have one of the under-housemaids accompany you while you attend to your duties. Two can work more quickly than one, after all, and attend to twice as many rooms as one