But what shocked Adalyn was the mess of red scarring down the right side of her face and onto her neck. The ivory smooth skin had been destroyed, and Adalyn’s heart went out to her as she turned away, deliberately hiding her disfigurement.
“I hope Mrs. Barnsley is well,” said Adalyn, looking around. “If I’ve come at a bad time…”
“Of course yer haven’t. Come along in, my Lady. Lookin’ forward to a bit of a chat with yer, we are.” Mrs. Barnsley’s voice sounded fairly strong, if a bit nasal, and Adalyn followed it into the kitchen.
There was the woman herself, swathed in a brilliantly hued blanket, tucked up in front of a roaring fire.
Adalyn frowned and came forward to push Mrs. Barnsley back into her chair as she attempted to rise. “My dear lady, you are not well. Sit down and keep warm.”
“’Tis naught but a cold, my Lady. Just yer keeps yer distance. Jane here has made me a good stout broth, so other than a sneeze or two, I’m right as rain.”
Guessing that being trapped in a chair for a few days would be the worst kind of punishment for a woman like Mrs. Barnsley, Adalyn merely shook her head. “You must be very glad to have Jane here,” she said politely. “If she is half the cook you are, I’m sure the rest of the family are as well.”
“She’s a good lass.” Mrs. Barnsley sighed. “But yer’ve seen her.”
Adalyn glanced around to find Jane gone. Not surprised, she pulled a chair up to the fire and sat, knowing that a chat would be the best medicine. “I did, yes. She seems a capable young lady.”
“She is that. But…” Mrs. Barnsley’s hands trembled a little as she clutched her handkerchief.
Moved, Adalyn reached out and touched the other woman’s shoulder. “If you don’t wish to talk about it, Mrs. B., I’ll understand.”
A smile wreathed the face within the folds of the blanket. “Mrs. B., eh? I like that, my Lady. Yer a clever girl and kind too, if yer’ll forgive the familiarity. So I will tell Jane’s story, fer it is a sad one, and one that has just come home to roost, as it were.”
Adalyn’s eyes were drawn to the flicker of firelight on china, and she noticed some china on the table. “Wait a moment.” She rose and walked over, touching the cup and finding it warm and half full. “I think you might keep this at your side, in case your throat gets a little dry from the telling,” she smiled, returning to the hearth and putting both cup and saucer next to Mrs. Barnsley. “It smells like excellent broth to me.”
“Tea, I should be makin’ yer tea…”
“Don’t fuss.” Adalyn stopped her immediately. “I came to see you. And you are going to tell me how Jane has come to be here and what happened to scar her so badly…”
Mrs. Barnsley subsided, muttering a little. The fact she did so told Adalyn that the older woman really wasn’t up to snuff yet. So she tucked the blanket around her more tightly and took her seat once again.
“Jane has always wanted to better herself,” sniffled Mrs. Barnsley. “A good thing, fer sure, but sometimes it doesn’t go the way yer expects.”
“That is quite true, but it’s good that Jane had the desire to learn.”
“Yes, she got help from the Vicarage, where Mrs. Thomas, the Vicar’s wife, gives lessons to children now and again. Jane was very smart, learned real quick, and Mrs. Thomas took a bit of extra time with the girl. So when Lady Tymball-Sale put about that she was lookin’ fer maids, Jane applied and before we knew it, she was off down south. Got to be next-in-line to the Lady’s maid, too.”
“How wonderful,” encouraged Adalyn.
“It was. Made us all proud. But then they had this party over the Christmas season. Lot of guests down from London, bit of shootin’, I heard, lot of gamblin’, yer probably knows the kind of things I mean.”
Adalyn, who hadn’t a clue, nodded.
“And of course there was this one chap who fancied our Jane.”
“Oh dear.” Adalyn’s heart dropped to her shoes. “Let me guess. Jane refused his advances.”
“That she did, fer I’ve brought her up to be a good girl. But himself was the valet to a hoity-toity gentleman of the Ton, and this lad fancied himself every bit as good. Thought he could have whatever he wanted, includin’ Jane. When she said no…one night in the kitchen when they were alone…well, a pot of hot water got involved.”
“Dear Lord.” Adalyn’s breath froze. “He threw it at her?”
“Sort of,” said Mrs. Barnsley, her voice choked. “She grabbed it, see, because he was having a go at her and she’d no way to hold him off. As she tells it, he managed to knock her arm crooked and it came back on her…”
Adalyn was silent, unable to imagine the pain, but well able to imagine Jane’s fear.
“How long ago?”
“Couple of months now.” Mrs. Barnsley sighed. “The family took care of the worst of it, to hush it up and keep it out of the papers, I suppose. But once she’d healed enough to get about, she got her two weeks’ notice and out she went.”
“That’s just…awful.”
“Yes it is. And they knew it. Gave her four extra weeks pay, they did. And I hope it eased their conscience because it didn’t make us a mite more inclined to view them any better.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “Bought my girl off, they did. Or tried to.”
“I am so sorry to hear all this, Mrs. B.” Adalyn laid a hand on the blanket. “But I’m glad Jane is safe and sound here, and able to take care of you for a bit…”
The older woman turned her face to Adalyn, worry writ large across her features. “But what will she do, my Lady? She can’t spend her life buried in this cottage tendin’
