Ashworth Hall

He blushed very faintly.

“I don’t know nuffink, I swear,” she said honestly. “If I did, I’d tell Mr. Pitt. Don’t yer know that? Now ’oo’s stupid?” She blew her nose for a last time and looked at the handkerchief. “I’ll wash it an’ give it yer back.”

“You don’t need to …” he said magnanimously, then blushed more deeply.

She took a deep breath and let it out shakily.

“I gotter go an’ do me work. If’n yer remember, I got extra jobs ter do, seen’ as the master’s valet in’t much use.” And with that she stuffed the handkerchief into her pocket and marched off, leaving him standing in the corridor looking after her.

10

EMILY KNEW that she had been unfair to both Charlotte and Pitt after the explosion. Part of her had realized it even as she was striking out, but she was so terrified and angry and overwhelmed with immediate relief that she had lost control of her emotions. Now, a day later, she knew she must apologize.

She went to look for Pitt first. There was a sense in which he would be the easier. It was he whom she had attacked. It was Charlotte, on his behalf, because he was vulnerable in that he had so far failed, who would find it harder to forgive. She was walking along the passage towards the stillroom and laundry rooms, where Dukes had said Pitt was, when she was waylaid by the kitchen maid, carrying an empty basket.

“I in’t goin’ in there, m’lady, if we’re ’ungry the rest o’ the week. I in’t goin’ in there if we starve, an’ that’s a fact.” She stood with her feet apart and one hand on her hip, fist clenched, almost as if she expected someone to try to carry her forcibly wherever it was.

“Where aren’t you going, Mae?” Emily asked reasonably. She was used to the vagueness of maids. It could almost certainly be sorted out with a little reason and a great deal of firmness.

“Ter fetch the meat,” Mae answered resolutely. “I absolutely in’t.” She stared at Emily, and her eyes did not waver, which was a bad sign. Servants did not defy their employers like that if they wanted to keep their places.

“It’s your job,” Emily pointed out. “If Cook sent you. Did she?”

“I don’t care if God hisself sent me, I in’t going!” Mae stood her ground without blinking.

This was not the time to be having to dismiss a kitchen maid, especially a good one. And Mae had been good until now. What on earth had got into the girl? Perhaps there was some point in trying reason.

“Why not? You always have before.”

“In’t bin corpses o’ dead men in the ice’ouse afore,” Mae answered in a husky voice. “Men as was murdered an’ don’t lie easy. Dead wot went afore their time an’ wants vengeance.”

Emily had forgotten the bodies were there.

“No,” she said as calmly as she could. “Of course not. Anyway, you don’t have the keys. I expect Superintendent Pitt has them. I’ll go and fetch the meat myself.”

“You can’t do that!” Mae was horrified.

“Well, somebody has to,” Emily replied. “I didn’t kill anyone, so I’m not afraid of dead bodies. I must offer my guests food. Go back to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Williams I’ll bring the meat.”

Mae stood motionless.

“Go on,” Emily ordered her.

Mae was white-faced.

“Yer can’t carry meat, m’lady.” She took a huge gulp of air. “It in’t fittin’. I’ll come an’ carry it, if yer swear yer’ll come in wi’ me? I’ll be all right if yer come wi’ me.”

“Thank you,” Emily said gravely. “That is very brave of you, Mae. We’ll get the keys from Mr. Pitt and go together.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

They found Pitt five minutes later, returning from speaking with Padraig’s valet and going to look for Kezia.

“Thomas,” Emily said quickly. She could not apologize for her earlier behavior in front of the kitchen maid. She smiled at him as meekly as she could and saw the surprise in his eyes. “Thomas, we have run out of meat in the kitchen and need to fetch some from the icehouse. I believe you have the keys, since …” She let the sentence hang unfinished. “Would you please come with us? Mae is nervous to go alone, and I promised to stay beside her.”

Pitt looked at her steadily for a moment without answering, then slowly he smiled back. “Of course. I’ll take you there now.”

“Thank you, Thomas,” she said softly. She did not need to say more. He knew that was an apology.

Finding Charlotte proved more difficult, and when she did, knowing what to say was even harder. Charlotte was obviously still angry and upset. She had been up to London, without telling anyone why, and returned so late everyone else had already been in bed. Normally, of course, at a country house weekend like this they would remain up enjoying themselves, possibly until two or three in the morning. But there was nothing usual about this weekend. No one wished to be in general company any longer than was obligatory for the most basic good manners.

Now they were standing in the first open space in the conservatory between the potted palms and the orchid which Fergal had broken, although they did not know it. Emily had been passing in the hall when she had glanced across and seen Charlotte, and gone in. Now she did not know how to begin.

“Good morning,” Charlotte said a trifle stiffly.

“What do you mean ‘Good morning’?” Emily responded. “We saw each other at breakfast.”