Her tone suggested she was musing aloud, intent upon her thoughts for themselves, not for any effect upon others, but her body inside its beautiful gown was as stiff as a twig in the still air, and her voice was penetrating. 'I think it is the suspicion of what Percival said that has made Mama take to her bed. Perhaps if you were to avoid her, Myles, it might be better for her. She may be afraid of you-' She turned suddenly and smiled at him, dazzling and brittle. 'Which is perfectly absurd, I know-but fear is at times irrational. We can have the wildest ideas about people, and no one can convince us they are unfounded.'
She cocked her head a little to one side.”After all, whatever reason could you possibly have to have quarreled so violently with Octavia?' She hesitated. 'And yet she is sure you have. I hope she does not tell Mr. Monk so, as it would be most distressing for us.' She swiveled around to Hester. 'Do see if you can help her to take a rather firmer hold on reality, Miss Latterly. We shall all be eternally grateful to you. Now I must go and see how poor Romola is. She has a headache, and Cyprian never knows what to do for her.'' She swept her skirts around her and walked out, graceful and rigid.
Hester found herself surprisingly embarrassed. It was perfectly clear that Araminta was aware she had frightened her husband, and that she took a calculated pleasure in it. Hester bent to the bookshelf again, not wishing Myles to see the knowledge in her eyes.
He moved to stand behind her, no more than a yard away, and she was acutely conscious of his presence.
“There is no need to be concerned, Miss Latterly,'' he said
with a very slight huskiness in his voice. 'Lady Moidore has rather an active imagination. Like a lot of ladies. She gets her facts muddled, and frequently does not mean what she says. I am sure you understand that?' His tone implied that Hester would be the same, and her words were to be taken lightly.
She rose to her feet and met his eyes, so close she could see the shadow of his remarkable eyelashes on his cheeks, but she refused to step backwards.
'No I do not understand it, Mr. Kellard.' She chose her words carefully. 'I very seldom say what I do not mean, and if I do, it is accidental, a misuse of words, not a confusion in my mind.'
“Of course, Miss Latterly.'' He smiled.”I am sure you are at heart just like all women-'
'Perhaps if Mrs. Moidore has a headache, I should see if I can help her?'' she said quickly, to prevent herself from giving the retort in her mind.
'I doubt you can,' he replied, moving aside a step. 'It is not your attention she wishes for. But by all means try, if you like. It should be a nice diversion.''
She chose to misunderstand him. 'If one is suffering a headache, surely whose attention it is is immaterial.'
''Possibly,'' he conceded. 'I've never had one-at least not of Romola's sort. Only women do.'
Hester seized the first book to her hand, and holding it with its face towards her so its title was hidden, brushed her way past him.
'If you will excuse me, I must return to see how Lady Moidore is feeling.'
'Of course,' he murmured. 'Although I doubt it will be much different from when you left her!'
It was during the day after that she came to realize more fully what Myles had meant about Romola's headache. She was coming in from the conservatory with a few flowers for Beatrice's room when she came upon Romola and Cyprian standing with their backs to her, and too engaged in their conversation to be aware of her presence.
“It would make me very happy if you would,'' Romola said with a note of pleading in her voice, but dragged out, a little plaintive, as though she had asked many times before.
Hester stopped and took a step backwards behind the curtain, from where she could see Romola's back and Cyprian's face. He looked tired and harassed, shadows under his eyes and a hunched attitude to his shoulders as though half waiting for a blow.
'You know that it would be fruitless at the moment,' he replied with careful patience. 'It would not make matters any better.'
“Oh, Cyprian!'' She turned very petulantly, her whole body expressing disappointment and disillusion. 'I really think for my sake you should try. It would make all the difference in the world tome.'
'I have already explained to you-' he began, then abandoned the attempt. 'I know you wish it,' he said sharply, exasperation breaking through. 'And if I could persuade him I would.'
'Would you? Sometimes I wonder how important my happiness is to you.'
'Romola-I-'
At this point Hester could bear it no longer. She resented people who by moral pressure made others responsible for their happiness. Perhaps because no one had ever taken responsibility for hers, but without knowing the circumstances, she was still utterly on Cyprian's side. She bumped noisily into the curtain, rattling the rings, let out a gasp of surprise and mock irritation, and then when they both turned to look at her, smiled apologetically and excused herself, sailing past them with a bunch of pink daisies in her hand. The gardener had called them something quite different, but
She settled in to Queen Anne Street with some difficulty. Physically it was extremely comfortable. It was always warm enough, except in the servants' rooms on the third and fourth floors, and the food was by far the best she had ever eaten- and the quantities were enormous. There was meat, river fish and sea fish, game, poultry, oysters, lobster, venison, jugged hare, pies, pastries, vegetables, fruit, cakes, tarts and flans, puddings and desserts. And the servants frequently ate what was returned from the dining room as well as what was cooked especially for them.
She learned the hierarchy of the servants' hall, exactly whose domain was where and who deferred to whom, which was extremely important. No one intruded upon anyone else's duties, which were either above them or beneath them, and they guarded their own with jealous exactitude. Heaven forbid a senior housemaid should be asked to do what was the under housemaid's job, or worse still, that a footman should take a liberty in the kitchen and offend the cook.
Rather more interestingly she learned where the fondnesses lay, and the rivalries, who had taken offense at whom, and quite often why.
Everyone was in awe of Mrs. Willis, and Mr. Phillips was considered more the master in any practical terms than Sir Basil, whom many of the staff never actually saw. There was a certain amount of joking and irreverence about his military mannerisms, and more than one reference to sergeant majors, but never within his hearing.
Mrs. Boden, the cook, ruled with a rod of iron in the kitchen, but it was more by skill, dazzling smiles and a very hot temper than by the sheer freezing awe
Dinah the parlormaid was a trifle superior, but it was in good part her position rather than her nature. Parlormaids were selected for their appearance and were required to sail in and out of the front reception rooms heads high, skirts swishing, to open the front door in the afternoons and carry visitors' cards in on a silver tray. Hester actually found her very approachable, and keen to talk about her family and how good they had been to her, providing her with every opportunity to better herself.
Sal, die kitchen maid, remarked that Dinah had never been seen to receive a letter from them, but she was ignored. And Dinah took all her permitted time off duty, and once a year returned to her home village, which was somewhere in Kent.
Lizzie, the senior laundrymaid, on the other hand, was very
superior indeed, and ran the laundry with an unbending discipline. Rose, and the women who came in to do some of the heavy ironing, were never seen to disobey, whatever their private feelings. It was an entertaining observation of nature, but little of it seemed of value in learning who had murdered Oc-tavia Haslett.
