The moon was high in the sky when Verushka scrambled through the bramble & gorse trying to find the hidden gate between the shubbery of the east line fence. The moon shone brightly above illuminating her way but the dastardly thing still eluded her grasp. It had been two days since the Duke of Bexley had stolen her book & she was not pleased. He didn't even have the decency to be present for her to yell at him. He was probably off philandering his inheritance rather than reading anyway. She resolved that he had really forced her hand when she broke into his chamber late that afternoon to find her copy of 'Jane Eyre' but all her endeavor served to do was perplex his valet, Trevor. No doubt Cain would hear all about her escapade when he returned. She shuddered at the thought.
By the evening both Mina nor Liara had returned and Verushka was going a touch stir crazy and decided the best thing to do was take Ben and Chris up on their offer and duck out to meet them. It seemed very plausible that the boys were up to no good but perhaps that was exactly what she needed. Sitting around and playing nice and waiting for a book to read hadn't gotten her much thus far.
When her feet had taken its first steps outside of the Bexley Manor she felt more free than she had in days. The maids below stairs talked almost non-stop about the Dukes impending proposal and she even heard tell that the Duchess was planning a soiree in the middle of the Season at their country house to celebrate the nuptials.
Gag.
Clearly somebody was lying and she doubted that it was the Duchess.
Verushka heard drunken laughter coming from an outcropping of the distant tree line and twisted her lips in frustration assessing the height of the fence. She took one swift leap over the rails and tumbled over snagging the trim of her dress on a rusty bent nail. With a strong tug she ripped the fabric and pulled herself free into the Bletchley Manor grounds. The boys had agreed to meet her at the boundary of the Riverstone and Bletchley properties since she was familiar with the former and they with the latter. As she neared, she spotted a small fire kindling with some dry apple tree branches that lent their perfume to the air mixing with poorly brewed ale and cider.
Ben was the first to look up from the flames. "Well, well- look who decided to join the parrrty."
Verushka returned his warm smile, amused as she was by the slight drunken slur to his speech. Sure, he wasn't bright but, by god, he was pretty to look at.
"Thanks, for the invite boys. Hope I didn't miss all the fun," she called out across the glade.
Chris strolled over to her with his shirt open to reveal his well-muscled chest and handed her a bottle of cider with an easy grin. "Nah, you only just got here so now the party can start.
Right, Ben?" He turned to his comrade.
Ben responded with a lop-sided grin.
Chris laughed under his breath and flung an arm casually over her shoulders. "So let me introduce you to the gang." He proceeded to point out the rest of the group encircling the fire in various degrees of inebriation. Some she remembered from the Riverstone house and others were entirely new faces.
At the end of the introductions Chris gave her arm a little squeeze and propelled her forward with a wink. "Go mingle little rebel. Shout if you need me to pry Ben off you."
She watched him wander over to a group of his friends and frowned a little. She had thought he would want to at least talk to her but he seemed to be off on his own mission. She shrugged without giving it any more consideration than that and headed off to catch up with some old friends.
It had been so long since she had spoken to anyone outside of Bexley House. It was such a secular environment and she hadn't even noticed that she had become so insular but within one hour she had caught up on all the gossip at the Riverstone House, made three new friends with the scullery maids at Bletchley Manor and set a standing date to pilfer scones and have breakfast with them every third Saturday of the month. But, even while she was deep in conversation she could feel Chris's eyes on her. Sometimes she would look up and find him staring at her across the fire. She was a little confused by the gesture and, if she was honest, a little excited. Sure, he wasn't Cain but there was always going to be a difference between a Duke and a serving boy and she wasn't entirely certain that what she felt around Cain wasn't simply frustration.
"Sooo.... You and Chris got something going on there?" Dana, one of her new friends asked bluntly.
"What?" Verushka jumped startled. "No! Why would you say that?"
Anita, one of her old comrades from Riverstone laughed, "Maybe because he keeps staring at you. I mean....maybe. We can't entirely be certain but it seems very likely cos' he hasn't stopped looking at you since you got here."
"It's a little creepy." Dana smirked.
"Aww, nah. It's sweet." Anita assured her.
Verushka's eyes widened perceptively and then she stammered. "Don't be silly. That's just ridiculous."
It was at that moment Ben decided to plomp himself down on the ground next to her seat on the log.
"Hey there, Vushka. I didn't know you were here."
"Really Ben?" Dana raised an eyebrow "She's been here an hour and you saw her first."
"Ssh." Ben hushed her while adopting a very serious demeanour in his drunken state. "I need to tell you something." He beckoned her closer with a curl of his index finger.
Ver humoured him and bent her ear closer to his lips.
"Oi like ya. I think ya really purretty."
She laughed, "Well thanks Ben."
He frowned and yanked her closer. "But, oi think Chris likes ya. You shouldna get with Chris. Definitely not!"
"And why is that?" Chris's shadow fell across Ben as he stood between him and the fire.
Ben stared at his friend shocked by his sudden although not unlikely appearance given that he was only on the other side of the circle when this discussion started.
"Come on, Benny," Chris laughed. "Why shouldn't our lovely Bexley maid give me a shot?"
"Umm... nothin'. No reason ya know. Just talkin'," he stammered then twitched his nose a few times as if annoyed that his brilliant plan to woo the lady was foiled in its infancy. "Ya know what Chris- you stink."
Chris scoffed with a dash of wry amusement, "What?"
"Yah man, ya stink like pig's dung wrapped in goat turd." Ben stood up to full height, strengthened by ale and idiocy.
Verushka actually thought that they might come to blows for what she could discern was no good reason, when one of the beefier young men lazing in the clearing approached Chris with the full force of his fist.
"He's right! You're full of crap and horseshit, Chris. Damn you to hell!" He yelled running head long into him.
Somehow a pleasant evening by the fire had turned into some kind of brawl and Verushka watched a powerful right hook sail passed Ben's bewildered face towards Chris's well defined jaw. But, before it could make contact Ben's hand dashed out with lightning fast reflexes to seize the meaty wrist and with a flick had twisted it, curled in between the two and used the momentum of Chris's would-be attacker to fling him over Ben's shoulder and onto the ground.
Verushka stood stock still. "What on earth was that?"
Ben just gave the attacker a final swift kick then watched him scurry off into the shadows before throwing Verushka a grin. "Mates before maids."
Chris clapped him on the back with a laugh, "Thanks man. I can always rely on your pugalistic skills."
"Yeah, yeah. Me ol' man taught me there's more quid in street brawls than as a stable boy, that's all." Ben shrugged before tottering off into the woods to relieve himself, forgetting anything that happened beyond the last three seconds with as much ease as he had in felling a man twice his size.
Dana leaned in to whisper in Verushka's ear, "Oooh, that's Neil. He has had his eye on you for a while; I heard him tell Chris so. And, to top it off he is pretty pissed that Chris is trying his luck with you when he is supposed to be seeing some gorgeous upstairs maid, Nicole."
Chris approached with a cocky smile, "Unfair...and untrue Dana. I called it off with Nicole when she moved to work in Surrey."
Dana rolled her eyes and left to tend the fire with Anita, which opened up a space on the log next to Verushka.
"So," she started casually, "you've been a busy boy, Chris."
"Nah," he shrugged modestly, bumping her shoulder with his. "Don't believe all the rumours. It's just fireside talk. The boys have had too much to drink."
"And you," she asked.
His eyes twinkled. "I think I've had just the right amount."
Verushka laughed. There was no doubt about it. Chris was entertaining and attractive in a devil-may-care kind of way; he was funny and witty and she never thought she could have so much amusement outside the pages of a book.
They spent the next few hours chatting and eating and drinking without caution or concern and before she knew it the first chirp of a bird before the light touch of dawn was heard.
"On my God!" she leapt up with alarm. I have to go. I can't believe that I stayed out so late. I'm going to be in so much trouble.
Chris stood & took her hand covering it with his own. "That's only if someone finds out."
She raced with him to the Bexley House & it was only when they crossed the border into the Duke's property that she realised she was still holding his hand. She pulled it away sharply & looked up at him. "Why are you walking me home? Don't you have to get back to work too?"
"Protection", he answered simply.
Verushka choked on a laugh "Hah! You mean you're worried Neil will come back to finish the job?"
Chris did not appear amused. Verushka on the other hand found the situation hilarious.
"Didn't you hear 'bout the Bletchley footman getting killed today. Doubt it's a coincidence cos his cousin bit the dust just a couple days ago too."
"People die all the time Chris, doesn't explain why you feel the need to walk me home."
He stopped before the grassy glade began to disperse into gravelled pathways, "Just bein' safe is all. Don't want you wandering around when strange men might be lurking."
Verushka laughed again, "- and what about strange woman? Or am I supposed to protect you from them?"
He smiled cheekily, "Yeah, of course!"
"And what about 'protector of the innocent'- Ben?" she asked enjoying the banter as she conveniently forgot about the impending dawn.
Chris stepped closer and his voice dropped a touch, "Well, Ben isn't here right now."
Before he could get any closer she heard a noise in the shrubbery behind them. They both tensed but before either could react a small black kitten, scruffy as the bush he emerged from, padded out and nuzzled at Verushka's ankles.
"Awww," she cooed.
Chris took a giant step back, sneezing as he did so. "Ah...Ah....Ahchoo!"
The kitten batted the torn shreds of Verushka's dress playfully before she picked him up to rub affectionately in the curve of her neck.
"Well,- achoo, it looks like you, aah...ahh, are fine here," he managed to get out.
Verushka was momentarily distracted from the cute ball of fluff in her arms to glance at Chris. His eyes were red and watering and his nose twitched as he tried to ward off another sneeze.
"Oh," she stared doe eyed. "You're allergic to him!"
"No, no," Chris assured her, "but I'm just gonna go. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm fine," she nodded shooing him away from the cat, who wasn't phased in the least by the encounter.
Chris was still calling out his goodbye's and reminding her of the regular Bletchley staff campfire sessions when she had decided on naming the kitten 'Shadow'.
"You're such a cute kitten, yes you are!" She fawned animatedly over the stray in the dark while waving to Chris. With such pleasant distractions it took her a few moments to notice the light streaming from an open door behind her. Between ferns & vines in an alcove she had never noticed despite her long years of service was a small opening, not large enough for a man or a particularly tall person but perfect for a diminutive older woman.
The Duchess stood in the doorway illuminated by the light in the hallway behind her. She wore a serviceable gown of jade and a shrewd gaze that tore through all Verushka's most closely guarded secrets.
"It is time we have a little chat my dear."
Shrouded in darkness, Verushka did not even realise how the Dowager could have seen her amidst the foliage, clinging to cat as black as the night she swathed in.
"Now your Majesty... um I mean your Grace?" she asked more than a little terrified.
The Dowager's jaw clenched, "Yes now. It seems I have left you to the wolves far longer than I ought. It is time you met your destiny child and I guarantee you will not find it out there with the frivolity of peasants, so you had best follow me. Now."
Her words left no room to brook discussion and Verushka's heart beat at a pace she did not even know was possible. Clutching Shadow to her chest she stepped forward to a door she never even knew was there and paused only to realise she would have to relinquish her furry friend.
The Duchess had already turned her back and taken but a few small steps inside when she called behind her, "You may bring your cat with you Verushka. I have a feeling that you may require some comfort before this night is out."
For an old woman she moved with surprising haste and Verushka found herself tripping over her feet to follow the trails of the Duchess's starched robes.
The light from the sconces glowed warmly against the stone walls as the Duchess glided ahead of Verushka, & despite the soft moss growing between the craggy rocks there was no smell of damp or trace of disuse. The floors were no dustier than the hallways of the main house & the mild warmth in the air meant that it was either used expressly for tonight or somehow maintained regular use. She glanced around at the off shooting passageways & turns in the corridor. The best that she could make of where they were was somewhere beneath the left wing of the Bexley House, carefully coiled for concealment between the scullery and the old Duke's den. It seemed an odd place to put a corridor especially one that the Duchess frequented but as Verushka saw her approach a wall with the haste of someone who knew what lay on the other side it became clear. The Dowager raised a frail but firm hand to the overhanging sconce & pulled it southward with a notable click.
Verushka watched in awe as well-oiled hinges moved with ease and the line demarcating a door in the wall became clear. A small antechamber beyond was revealed & the Duchess gathered her skirts to her & stepped through knowing well enough that Verushka was at her heels with a wide eyed stare & a jaw slackened by surprise.
Just beyond lay a simple white painted wooden door and a guard standing by it in the Bexley livery whom Verushka had never seen in her life. He bore a darker complexion than most of the English men and wore a stern resolve as if it were his armour. His eyes passed over her once and then looked dead ahead again and she couldn't imagine what he saw as he stared so intently into the empty corridor. Verushka hoped those eyes never made contact with a mirror, for this man was a powerfully ugly creature to behold. Not precisely enough to draw attention in a crowd but definitely sufficient to shock a lady if her gaze brushed over his distasteful form.
"Goodmorning Yosef," the Duchess smiled.
Yosef turned to her only a fraction and replied with a soft grunt of greeting.
She pulled a long brass key from its chain within the folds of her dress and inserted it into the lock. Before she twisted it she cautioned over her shoulder, "What you are about to witness is a secret to all besides the Queen and a select few members of society. I require that whatever happens beyond this door that you never speak of it in the course of your life, however long or short that may be. Can you do that Verushka?"
Verushka was fair certain that she couldn't speak at this juncture to save her own life and so just nodded in agreement. There was no way she was turning back now and if silence bought her passage into this adventure, it was the price that she would gladly pay.
With a flick of her wrist the door opened. The room beyond appeared to be an office. It was sizable despite its location and filled with a myriad of items that she would expect to find in a man's den, not a ladies salon and yet despite its masculinity the scent of the dowager's perfume clung to the tepid air. Maps hung instead of tapestries on the wall and in the center was a prominent desk, imposing, dark and no doubt heavy. Mahogany wood gleamed by candlelight and high backed leather armchairs replaced sofas of pastel. In fact, the only colour to strike at the muted tones was a crystal vase placed on a side table and filled with the crimson calling card of the well-known Spanish rose. It was so very different to her tea with the dowager the day before. No light touched these corners, except from the lamps it's owner allotted, concealing books that were stacked with papers, some strewn and some neatly filed. There was a solemnity to this space and Verushka heeded it by lashing her curious tongue.
The Duchess briskly shuffled through some documents that lay waiting on her desk before casting them to an unnamed pile nearby. Her gaze pierced Verushka and she took her seat, allowing for the latter to find the way to a chair in her own time.
"So my dear," she began, "would you like to tell me about that little scenario?"
"Umm..." Verushka responded inarticulately still unsure whether to sit or stand.
" 'Umm' is not an acceptable answer. Perhaps you can tell me what you found so intriguing in shirking your evening duties once more or what you ascertained particularly enlightening in the company of that ruffian from Bletchley Manor?"
Verushka was flabbergasted. Was there nothing this woman did not know?!
"I was just meeting some friends, milady. I'm sorry, I won't leave again during work hours to see them."
"You mistake me," the Duchess replied. "You won't see them again at all."
Verushka was affronted. If she had chosen to sit before she would surely be on her feet now. Surely what she did in her own time was her business. "But, they are my friends!" She rebuked.
"I doubt that very much and if you are referring to that boy Chris then I can assure you that he does not have your best interests at heart."
"And how do you know that?" Verushka muttered as the kitten pounced from her hands and she knelt to the floor to seize the little mischief maker.
The Duchess sighed and sipped a cooling cup of tea, "You will soon find that there is little that I do not know."
There was a short knock and footman stepped through the opposing door and handed the Duchess an envelope that bore the seal of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, which she accepted without so much as gasp and relegated it to the unwanted pile from before. When the footman left, the door closed flush with the panelling of the walls but Verushka glimpsed the inter-leading room and identified it as the Duchess's personal chamber.
She gave up chasing Shadow, who had disappeared under the desk to play with a bit of fluff, and finally relegated herself to a seat. It was quite possible that she was about to get fired or killed within these walls and she did not want to be crawling around on the floor when it
happened.
The Dowager then came to sit in the armchair next to Verushka and took her maid's youthful course hands between slim aged fingers with gentle care.
"Verushka, I want to tell you a story. It is of a young girl who loved a man very deeply. She was once nothing more than a chamber maid and she had the audacity to caste her eyes above her station." The Duchess smiled as if in memory, "But, here too I cannot lay any blame for he loved her as much as the summer loves the cooling rain. They would find moments to be together, reading to each other until the stars greeted the night. He whispered to her of a time when they could be together and as a young girl she knew not of the pain this plan was fraught with and yet she trusted him. She gave this man her body and her heart, and when he married a woman befitting his station, she loved him still."
The Dowager took a deep breath and continued, "A child was born to this woman, whose eyes were as silver as her own, and he was brought up as if birthed from a Duchess. At his father's insistence he was hidden in the ducal household far from the taint of his bastardy."
The Dowager's hands shook as she reached for a golden lock of Verushka's hair and tucked it behind one ear with a mother's loving caress. "The affair could not be stopped. Despite all knowledge that such a romance was fruitless, this woman crept into her lover's bed as he had crept into her heart. In his own way he adored her too," she sighed, "but not enough to claim her. So, when she gave birth to a beautiful girl with golden hair like cornflowers in the spring his wife, though still barren of her own children, rejected another stowaway and threw both child and mother from her home. The man she loved did nothing to stop this. I understand, as I am sure you would, if he had taken any other course of action he would have lost both his son and the title of his lineage in one blow."
The Duchess rose to refill her tea. Only when the leaves had sufficiently steeped did she continue, "Now, I am sure you wonder what happened to this maid turned mother. She was not without friends, and by their grace she was placed in the position of ladies-maid in a well-respected household until her untimely passing a few short years later."
She trailed a frail finger along the soil stained slope of Verushka's cheek with a depth of compassion and sorrow. "She was your mother, Verushka. The Bexleys were the family she joined and your brother is Jacob, the eighth Duke of Wyvenstone."
Verushka's jaw dropped open. There were no words for her astonishment, no possible way that she could convey what she was feeling. Her father, a duke? Her brother, a duke? The fact that she even had a brother blew her scratchy brown stockings right off!
"No. It can't be... I mean, I can't be. You must have me confused with some other maid. Are you sure you aren't confusing me with Sarah or maybe Mel? Sorry to disagree with your grace but I think ... no, i know you've got this whole thing turned around" She stammered.
The Dowager chuckled, "My dear, I carried you into this house when you were just a babe. I can guarantee you that you were not merely found on the doorstep in the rain. And, before you suggest it, neither has age addled my mind. You are most assuredly the daughter of the late Duke and his maid."
Verushka felt the truth of those words settle in her like jelly in a mould on the eve of a banquet; fluid at first with no form or shape then slowly with time it grows accustomed to the confines of it's world. Her whole life she had believed that she was simply a maid; a kind and friendly servant with an uncanny love of books, but nothing more. Now she was someone's daughter, someone's sister. It changed everything... and nothing.
"Why are you telling me this now, your grace? It isn't as if Jay, I mean the Duke, knows who I am, or that he can acknowledge me. Really, he is lucky to have the position that he does, given what you have just told me about our mother, and I don't want to cause him any trouble."
The Duchess appeared weary. For the first time that night she looked every minute of her advanced years. "When your mother passed I promised to keep her secret. I fear that near to the end of her days her heart grew cold with the absence of her son. In denying her the chance to see him grow the Duchess had succeeded where the Duke's betrayal had failed. Now, you may know that the older Duke of Wyvernstone died, as unfortunately the aged are want to do, but his wife, Camilla remains the Dowager Duchess & is still very much in society. Besides her & myself none other know of your true identity & even that I have tried to conceal from her by sending you to work at the Riverstone manor when you were very young but found that I would much rather have you close by & if tonight's antics are anything to go by then I made the right decision."
Verushka raised both eyebrows, mostly because she struggled to do just one.
The Duchess continued, "You were made for more than scrubbing dishes, and I am told that you don't exactly do that quite well." She smiled and tilted Verushka's face up to the glow of the candelabra. "You have your mother's eyes, you both do. But, you also have her determination and her capacity for love. I have heard that you are the nicest maid anywhere in my household and although you never quite manage to perform your tasks to standard, not a single member of staff will say a word against you. But, you also have established some combination of a literary club and a gambling ring within my walls with flair and fortitude. So, that tells me that underneath all of this congeniality is a woman whom I wish to know, for I have glimpsed a mind like tempered steel and a wit to outmatch my own."
She rose once again and walked directly to a bookcase, avoiding the tiny paws chasing her skirts, and pulled out a gilded treatise with a well-worn spine. The binding read, 'Chanakya: Arthachasthra,' it was a title which was barely legible and meant nothing to Verushka but obviously a great deal to her employer because behind it lay a safe. She opened it with a small golden key from around her neck & withdrew a parchment scroll that bore the seal of the late King George III.
"Your mother, god rest her soul, was not simply my ladies maid," she said, handing Verushka the scroll. "She was my secretary for these matters and it is in her steps I wish you to now follow."
The Duchess paused as Verushka tentatively unrolled the paper and read the words therein. It seemed to be a treaty from Queen Victoria's father outlining the foundation of a secret service legion for England. This was far more than bow street runners, the militia, or Bobbies; it chronicled the use of agents and informants all poised in an intricate network for the safety of the country and Crown. They lay beneath and above all areas of society and government like heat in an oven baking bread unseen. And, at the bottom of the page was the elegant signature of the Director of the Secret Intelligence Service- Lady Catherine, Duchess of Bexley.
When Verushka finally looked up it was with wide, incredulous eyes. "You want me to be your secretary for the Queen's Secret Service?"
The Duchess smirked once again with her usual enigmatic refinement, "No, I want you to run it."
If you enjoyed this chapter I would really appreciate your vote before you continue reading. Thanks!
Sooo what did you think? were you surprised by the plot twist?
Wondering what that book was that the Duchess places so much value in?
Chanakya: Arthachasthra, is an ancient Indian on statecraft, policy and , written in Sanskrit in the 2nd century BCE. It includes topics on the nature of government, law, civil and criminal court systems, markets and trade, the methods for screening ministers, diplomacy, theories on war, nature of peace, and the duties and obligations of a king.
The Arthashastra dedicates many chapters on the need, methods and goals of secret service, and how to build then use a network of spies that work for the state. It is perhaps the first ever text on spy agencies and so is guaranteed a place of honour on the Duchess of Bexley's study shelves!