Rachel's Story

Chapter 20

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CHAPTER 20

The next morning, Rachel was woken up by the pleasing trill of birds from the garden and the sound of curtains being drawn back, letting soft sunlight pouring on her face. Her sleepy murmur of protest was cut short at the sight of someone standing in a dark corner. Jolted out of sleep in a trice by an involuntary rush of adrenalin, it took Rachel a second to realize with relief that it was only Sally, a pitcher of hot water in her hands and nervousness on her face.

“Oh, good morning!” she smiled at the uneasy girl as she lay back on the bed to surreptitiously catch her breath. Sally had never come to her room earlier, preferring to let Rosie wait on Rachel as she tended to the Herringford family. Now, of course, she was the only maid inside the house and had to perform all early-morning tasks by herself until a new maid came to work with her.

Rachel’s tender heart went out to her. She understood that Andrew had no choice in his disappearance, and escaping without notice was essential on Rosie’s part to divert Hargrove’s attentions – he might have suspected her if she had tried to leave around the time Miranda de Manley became of age. But she still wished that things could have been made easier for the poor servants like Sally and Larry who were suffering needlessly for Andrew and Rosie’s desertions. Her generous heart had never berated the cousins for dragging her so deep into their intrigue, but the thought of the maid and stable-boy’s hardships hurt her sensibilities.

“Good mornin’,” Sally returned tentatively. She quickly deposited the pitcher on the chest. “I…I have brought your washin’-up water, Miss,” as if it were not completely obvious. “It is hot as usual,” she tried again. Realizing the foolishness of her statement the moment it was uttered, she flushed and turned around to leave. Rachel could not let embarrassment spoil the chances of a budding understanding between them and immediately interposed, “Thank you, Sally. It must be hard to do so much work by yourself, and I’m most grateful to you.”

Sally stared at her for a moment from the doorway, before entering the room once again and wringing her hands. Finally, words gushed from her mouth as from a fountain. “’tis I who am grateful, Miss Warren. I’ll be thankful to you and Rosie for life. In fact, I don’t have any ill will towards her in the least for all this extra work; Lord knows that I’m ready to work all life by myself, long as I’ve my dignity to go with it. If you had not told Rosie to warn me about that bast…I mean, Lord…Edgerton, I could never have gotten away with my virtue intact.” She wiped off a tear from the corner of one eye and sniffed.

“I am simply glad that you and Rosie are safe, you know,” Rachel interposed gently. “I could never let you young girls stay in the house with a man like him without trying to warn you of his nature. My main fear was that you may not accept my story as true.”

Sally lowered her eyes in shame. “But you see Miss, I didn’t believe in the tale when Rosie told me. I didn’t trust you enough to admit the seriousness.of your warning, but ‘twas there in the back of my mind. I’ve made my own way in life and know when to heed warning signals. When he started lookin’ at me too much in corridors and acting all…slimy…I took to being around other people at all times without fail.

“He tried to waylay me more than once, and finally buttonholed me in the garden one evening when I was takin’ the air. No one would have heard my screams there, and I was completely helpless…or so he had thought.” A satisfied smirk crept up on her face as she relived the moment. “He had reckoned without my guard. I hadn’t been alone; I’m not that dumb. I was walkin’ with James and he had gone to fetch me a wrap from the house, and just as his Lordship was starting to get fresh the footman turns up as an unwanted spectator. And so it happened all the time he tried something with me or Rosie, until he left the house.”