Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Aurelia placed her finished dinner plate and empty cup on the small tray and looked to the open door. She'd taken to eating her meals in the schoolroom after her first attempt at joining the servants downstairs had met with disaster. It had been nothing but silence and curious looks for the duration of the meal—no one was willing to so much as sit beside her. She'd been given no welcome or conversation, not even from Tilly, the sweet maid who assisted her with her schoolroom needs.

She knew when she took on this role it would place her in between her employer and the servants. Governesses had no equals in a house such as this—the family ranked above them and the servants below. They hovered in the space between the classes, allowing for no easy resting place. Aurelia was perfectly aware of this fact. She had done her best to prepare herself for the drop in status she'd suffered of late and the way it would manifest in her new position. She had gone from being served by footmen and maids to not being socially accepted by those who held the same positions.

What she had not accounted for was the loneliness that would accompany it. Edmund ate with his father so long as there were no guests in the house, and the servants had made it clear she spoiled their meals with silence and discomfort when she joined them. Her chief companion had become the large bay window in the schoolroom, with its hard wooden benches and view of the lush countryside.

The view was charming and, in truth, Aurelia had been able to do far more reading than she'd anticipated while she took her meals and waited to resume lessons with Edmund, which had been a pleasant discovery.

But now that her dinner was over and she'd finished reading Romeo and Juliet for the second time since arriving at Tilton, she felt the drain of having too much time alone. She longed for a companion aged well above six years old. Someone whose conversation could enrich her life and provide a respite from the deluge of questions such a young brain constantly procured.

Those of the upper classes—the people who would have been her equals had they met in a London ballroom—were above her touch now. She was more likely to find companionship, friendship even, among the servants. Yet, during all those years Mrs. Hoskins had lived at her Berkley Square address, Aurelia had not once noticed the governess's discomfort. Had she eaten alone while Aurelia had dined with her parents and Nathaniel, when he was in town? Had she been lonely in their home? Why had Aurelia never taken note of it?

The September sun sank low, edging over the horizon while Aurelia stood and stretched her shoulders. She lifted the dinner tray, clutching each end in a tight fist. Perhaps one of the barriers between her and some of the servants was the fact that they continued to serve her. They brought her dinner on a tray and cleared it when she was through, reiterating the difference between their stations. If Aurelia wanted to abolish those lines, to blur them like a spilled drink over fresh watercolors, she would need to eliminate some of the ways they served her—beginning with returning this tray to the kitchen herself.

She started for the servants' stairs. Nothing would change unless she altered her actions.

Aurelia's steps slowed when she reached the final descent into the kitchen and heard the laughter and general din of conversation coming from it. The majority of Tilton's servants had been employed here for a long time—longer than Edmund had been alive, at least. Their loyalty to the house and each other seemed strong. She inhaled, clutching the tray tightly, then stepped down the last few steps and into the kitchen.

Cook was at the stove, working over a pot, the kitchen maid, Sally, beside her rolling something out on the worktop among a fine cloud of flour. Three servants remained at the table, lingering over steaming cups—two footmen and Tilly. Mrs. Pike and Mr. Pike were nowhere to be seen.

Christopher, one of the footmen, noticed her first. He stopped laughing and straightened in his seat. Sally stopped kneading her dough and glanced sidelong at Cook, who continued to work without pause. When the kitchen fell to silence, Tilly turned on her seat, a cup of tea rising to her lips, and caught Aurelia's eye.

She drank too quickly, the liquid splashing while she jumped to her feet and set her cup on the long, worn table. "Miss Beswick. You didn't need to bring this down." She hurried toward Aurelia and took the tray, scurrying to where the other dirty dishes were piled, waiting to be cleaned.

"I am capable of bringing my own dishes down to the kitchen," Aurelia said, more sharply than she'd intended. The faces all turned toward her. She cleared her throat. She'd come this far, so there was no use in quitting now. "You needn't serve my meals upstairs at all. I am perfectly happy to take them in here with everyone else."

Cook turned to face her now, an apprehensive look in her eyes. "You are entitled to have them upstairs, ma'am."

Although the butler and housekeeper, both of whom were far above each person in this room in station, took their meals with the rest of the servants. This status was her new life, and Aurelia craved human connection. She could sacrifice pride for it. "I understand, but it is much more difficult to make friends when I am eating alone in Edmund's schoolroom."

The room became silent, the only sound the sizzling and popping of whatever Cook was working with at the stove. The stares from each set of eyes bored into her so fiercely, she immediately regretted hoping to forge lasting friendships with these people. They did not like her, that was clear. It was silly to think that explaining her loneliness would grant her acceptance. The hierarchy of class transcended all, and she was at the whims of its grand strictures just like everyone else.

Aurelia took a step back, her heel bumping into the bottom step of the staircase. She shook her head softly. "You may forget this ever happened. I can see I was mistaken?—"

"Would you like to join us?" Tilly asked. "We were just enjoying a cup of tea before returning to our duties. Most everyone is out already, but there are a few of us here."

Jasper, the copper-haired footman, gave her a strange pleading look, but Tilly merely widened her eyes at him, the language of most mothers silently telling their children to behave.

It worked, even though Tilly seemed the younger of the two. Jasper moved around the table to sit beside Christopher, leaving the opposite seat empty.

"I would like that," Aurelia said weakly. The confrontation had taken a good deal out of her. She moved to take a seat at the table while Tilly retrieved another cup and joined her. Cook and Sally returned to their tasks. Aurelia busied herself preparing the tea to her liking, while Tilly and the footmen sipped quietly.

Good heavens, this was painfully uncomfortable. It was up to her to smooth the rift and perceived differences between them. "Lord Ryland is a gracious employer for providing tea like this. Given the exorbitant prices, I'm surprised it is not hidden away under lock and key."

"Oh, it usually is," Tilly said, smoothing back a mousy brown lock of hair. "We're welcome to it when we'd like, but Mrs. Pike holds the key."

Still, to allow the servants to drink tea at will proved the earl was a kind and generous master. It did not surprise her, exactly, but it was uncommon. He was a good man.

"You don't want to find yourself in her black books," Christopher said, taking another sip. "You'll be out of tea for a month."

"And put on the worst of the duties," Jasper muttered, as though he knew this from recent experience.

Tilly shook her head, blowing her lips in disagreement. "Miss Beswick is no footman," she said, as though scolding them. "Her duties are not assigned as ours are. She has no need to fear the housekeeper's wrath. Besides, Mrs. Pike is a lovely woman."

Christopher rolled his eyes and picked up his tea again.

"I've not heard of other households who allowed servants tea as often as they desire it," Aurelia said, the urge to defend Mrs. Pike resting squarely on her shoulders. "My own mother would never have stomached the expense."

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She was in the kitchen, hoping to forge friendships with servants, and at the first of conversation she reminded them how differently she had been raised from any other person in this room.

She was an utter dolt. Clenching her teeth together, Aurelia hoped the conversation would continue without her blunder.

Tilly blinked at her. "Forgive me for being so bold, but does it feel strange to be in your position?"

Aurelia hoped she wasn't making a mistake and opted for honesty. If she wanted true friendships, she could not hide her past entirely. "It has been difficult to adjust, but I am finding my way."

"Was your house very grand?" Jasper asked, curiosity lacing his tone. His body seemed frozen, and it occurred to Aurelia they were testing her—seeing how much she would reveal, perhaps? How much she was willing to speak about?

"It was in Berkeley Square," she said, knowing that would be enough. That particular London street only had houses that boasted wealth. The room fell silent.

Tilly looked between the footmen's gaping faces and Aurelia before settling into her seat like it hardly meant anything to her at all. If she was feigning disinterest to ease Aurelia's nerves, it was kind of her. "Where you come from doesn't matter to any of us," she said. A smile curved her mouth. "I wouldn't mind seeing some of your dresses, though, ma'am."

Aurelia bit back a laugh. She understood the appeal—even when she was doing her best to stay out of Society after she'd had to reject multiple proposals from one man, she had adored the rich silk gowns and brocade overdresses hanging in her wardrobe. Leaning closer to Tilly, she pressed her shoulder to the maid's. "I have one with me. I can show you."

It was one of the only things she'd kept from her previous life—not a full gown, but an overdress made of lace with silk embroidery and golden trim. She'd been able to store it away at the bottom of her portmanteau, wrapped in tissue paper. Perhaps it was foolish, but she'd worn the overdress a handful of times over a pale pink silk gown and had felt like royalty. It had been the one bright spot in her final London Season, overshadowing her failure to attract any eligible gentlemen worth their salt.

If she'd married one of the men who had proposed in the last few years, Papa would have provided them her dowry instead of spending it at the tables. It was no great secret now why Papa—and Nathaniel, perhaps—had continually introduced her to gentlemen of wealth. They were likely trying to recoup their losses.

All the while, no one else in the house had even an inkling that their funds were quickly diminishing.

"You must have gone to all the parties," Tilly said wistfully.

Aurelia sipped her tea. "Some of them, but they were not my favorite way to pass the time."

"I wouldn't have liked them either," Christopher said, leaning back in his chair and pulling a face. "All those grand people? No, I thank you."

Tilly rolled her eyes. "It would be different if you was one of the grand people."

"Unlikely," he muttered. His petulant attitude reminded Aurelia of her neighbor's sweet son when he was forced to wear a cravat and waistcoat for a formal dinner. He had only been ten at the time, but the entire evening he had looked like he itched to remove it at once.

Quick steps tapped down the staircase, warning them of an incoming person, but no one seemed concerned. Mrs. Pike appeared, turning the corner toward the sitting room she shared with her husband, but her gaze caught on Aurelia. She paused at the door, fiddling with the chatelaine clasped to her waist, suspicion lurking in the bend of her brow. "Can I help you with anything, Miss Beswick?"

"I was only having tea." Aurelia lifted the cup to her lips as though illustrating the innocence of her objective.

Mrs. Pike's wrinkled brow folded further, her eyes darting to Tilly. "The maids can bring it up to you whenever you'd like, ma'am. You need only ask."

Aurelia went still, the cup hovering before her lips. Was it a dismissal? A reminder to keep to her place? Her attempts to create friendships and bond with the other servants felt silly now—the point driven further by the direction of their conversation thus far. No one had been forming a relationship with Aurelia. She had been an oddity who interested them because of her differences.

Warmth bled onto her cheeks. She had been wrong to come down here. Her place was in between the worlds and she ought to remain there.

Aurelia stood, smiling down at Tilly. "Thank you for the tea. Shall I wash my cup?"

"Sally will do that," Tilly said, taking Aurelia's cup and her own and carrying them toward the wash basin. "I will walk upstairs with you, Miss Beswick."

The footmen stood when they moved to leave and, despite Mrs. Pike's watchful eye, Aurelia couldn't help but note how they appeared more at ease now than they had when she had initially come downstairs. Perhaps the topic of conversation hadn't been universally relatable, but it had broken down some of the barriers between them. They seemed younger than her, but even then, she thought she might like these men far more than the gentlemen of the ton .

Christopher watched Tilly cross the room, his eyes tracking her steps, though she seemed entirely unaware. Her mousy brown hair was falling from its knot, framing her face. She had freckles, despite how infrequently she was out in the sunlight, and her eyes were a light blue. She was pretty, and it appeared Christopher thought the same.

Tilly led the way up the staircase, Aurelia in her wake.

"It's up to Mrs. Pike to maintain order in the house," Tilly said when they reached the main floor and turned up the staircase to continue climbing. "Do not take it personally."

"I understand." Aurelia followed her up another few steps in silence, gathering her thoughts. "It is probably best if I remain upstairs, but I think it is silly for you to bring me dinner when I can just as easily come down to the kitchen."

Tilly stopped on the landing. "If you want to eat with us, come eat with us. Jasper and Christopher didn't mind it, did they?"

After the initial awkward moment had subsided, they hadn't seemed to mind her presence at all.

"The rest of the servants will become accustomed to your manners, too. Give them time." She nodded to reiterate her point, then looked away. "I understand feeling lonely, Miss Beswick. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Aurelia's heart surged with affection. "It seems to me you are well-loved here."

"I am." She smiled. "But not the sort of love I really want."

Aurelia took that to mean Tilly desired romantic love. "Anyone in particular? Christopher seemed to pay you special attention."

"Oh, goodness, no." She started walking up the stairs again. "The gamekeeper's son is handsome. Have you met him yet?"

She couldn't recall. There had been so many people she was introduced to the first week that some of them ran together. "Maybe, but I cannot place him."

"It hardly matters. He studies with the vicar, you know. He's quite intelligent."

Which likely meant Tilly found herself below the gamekeeper's son in station, or that perhaps she was not eligible to marry in her position as a maid. "You work in a household with a married housekeeper and butler. If anyone would allow a housemaid to marry, I think Lord Ryland might be the man to do it." He'd seemed so different from the men of the ton she was intimately familiar with. Exceedingly different from her brother Nathaniel and his set, most certainly.

Noticing the earl's kindness brought old feelings bubbling to the surface. The only time they had met during her debut Season was in a ballroom—Aurelia had spilled on her gown and he had gone out of his way to help her clean it up. But while she'd known precisely who he was, Lord Ryland hadn't the faintest idea he'd been helping Nathaniel Beswick's sister.

She'd watched him from a distance from that point on, falling helplessly in love with him, until his engagement was announced.

Aurelia clasped her hands together.

"Perhaps Lord Ryland is different," Tilly said, reaching the floor that housed the schoolroom. "But he is still an earl. I'm not certain anyone would allow a housemaid to marry and remain employed, not even him." She shook her head. "It is hardly relevant. Timothy Barnes will never look at me in that way."

Aurelia bit her tongue so she would not continue a conversation Tilly seemed bent on ending. "Thank you for showing me kindness."

Tilly grinned. "I've always wanted an intelligent friend. Maybe you can help me sound better, too."

"You sound perfect to me." Aurelia meant it. She had never been so grateful for the feeble branches of friendship extended by Tilly today.

"Do you go to church?" Tilly asked. "We meet at the wagon together to ride over if you do not wish to walk. It is a little far."

"I do. Last week I suffered a headache, but I will go tomorrow."

Tilly smiled, turning for the staircase to go up one more half-level to her room.

Aurelia began to ready for bed, unable to dampen the smile on her face.