Mary sagged from the pettiness but knewbetter than to argue back. She took her seat, opposite Joan at the end ofthe table, a huge gulf open between them and the other three servants. There was no conversation at all, but Bastion, in his own contemptuous way,made it clear through his grunts, groans and French outbursts that he was lividat having been left behind, the Mansfields preferring to employ a localScottish chef for their time at Boughton House.
With the silent supper finally over, Maryheaded up to her bedroom with Joan irritatingly close behind her.
‘Here, do you think Lady Philadelphia’spregnant? That’s what Sarah reckons.’
‘I don’t care for gossip, Joan,’ Mary saidairily. She did care for gossip but, having been on the receiving end ofJoan’s tittle-tattle, she decided to take the moral high ground.
‘Shall I come in your room whileeveryone’s away?’ Joan asked.
‘No, thank you,’ Mary said. To havethat snooping little creature in her room would be simply awful. As muchas spending nine nights by herself scared her, she would rather spend asleepless night alone than have Joan in the room.
‘Please?’ Joan persisted. They hadreached the top of the ninety-six stairs. ‘I don’t fancy being bymyself.’
‘Tough. Goodnight,’ Mary said,entering her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. With the house soempty, she closed the latch on the door and slid the bolt across. It wasthe first time in her life that Mary had ever slept totally alone; it was oneof the best nights’ sleep she had ever had.
Chapter Twelve
Wednesday12th April 1911
‘MissHerriot, fetch me the oriental cocoon coat, would you, there’s a dear,’ Mary saidto the looking glass in an exaggerated fashion, gesticulating with herhands. She couldn’t quite believe her luck. She really wasin with the Mansfields—they really did see her as more than a domesticservant. Dare she actually say that she was a friend of the family? None of the other servants or even her own family would possibly believe it,but this morning Lady Rothborne herself had invited her, Mary Mercer, for awalk in the rose garden.
‘Do you like roses, Mary?’ Lady Rothbornehad asked her, as they strolled side by side through the formal, rectangularbeds.
‘Oh yes, I love them,’ Mary hadanswered. ‘Especially white ones.’
Lady Rothborne had humoured her. ‘Yes, but do you really like them? Roses are a species like noother. The sheer number of varieties is truly staggering; eachunique…almost with their own personalities.’
They had continued on, taking stock of thepassing roses. Mary had watched and mimicked the way that Lady Rothborneseemed to absorb and devour each of the different species.
‘I come here when I need to be reminded ofthe past. Nothing awakens prior associations more than odour in myopinion. There have been rose gardens on this very spot since Tudortimes. Imagine, four hundred years of such beautiful specimens. Mygreat grandfather planted many of these,’ she said, indicating a bed justbeginning to awaken from its winter slumber. ‘The old-time perfume of theCentifolia, the dusky sweetness of the Damask that inspired the wallpaper andfurnishing of the grand saloon, the refreshing sweetness of the China roses—allplanted by him. All absolutely exquisite. And if Mr Phillips andhis team do their job properly, those roses shall outlive most of us.’
‘But I thought Blackfriars belonged toyour husband’s family,’ Mary had said.
‘His and mine. We share a bloodline;we were second cousins,’ Lady Rothborne had told her.
‘Oh,’ Mary had replied. She wastaken aback by this piece of news, although she didn’t quite know why.
‘Rather like you and your cousin, Edward,isn’t it?’
Mary’s cheeks had turned crimson. ‘Yes.’
‘And how has your courtshipdeveloped? Is it love, I wonder?’ Lady Rothborne had questioned.
‘I really think so,’ Mary had said. Lady Rothborne had, since the first moments of her time at Blackfriars, taken akeen interest in Edward and her. Just days ago, Mary had been summoned tothe library where Lady Rothborne had intimated that having relationswith Edward was a normal and natural part of courtship. Mary had seenlittle reason to hold back from telling her everything. ‘He’s evenproposed to me.’
Lady Rothborne had stopped and turned toMary. ‘Proposed indeed! How delightful. A Blackfriarswedding. We must ensure that you have something delicious to wearfor the big day. Perhaps something with a white rose on it. Come.’
Lady Rothborne had led Mary to LadyPhiladelphia’s wardrobe and thrown open the doors. ‘What takes yourfancy?’
‘All of it!’ Mary had said with a laugh.
‘Then you are going to have to try some ofit on,’ Lady Rothborne had said with a smile.
Mary was shocked. ‘Are you pullingmy leg?’
‘Absolutely not. I’m surePhiladelphia wouldn’t mind and besides which, she is currently in Scotlandwatching my son harassing some poor old beast around the Highlands. Whatabout this one?’ Lady Rothborne had said, carefully pulling out a beautifullilac gown and handing it to Mary. ‘Go on, try it.’
Mary had seemed reticent, but did as shewas being asked. She untied her pinafore and placed it neatly on thefloor then unbuttoned her black dress and let it fall to her ankles. Herface flushed as she stood before Lady Rothborne with so little clothing.
‘Well,’ Lady Rothborne had said, runningher eyes up her body.
Mary had turned her back to LadyRothborne, uncomfortable to be semi-naked in her presence. She quicklyreached for the lilac gown and pulled it up over her waist and onto hershoulders. It was a little tight, even though she and Lady Philadelphiawere of similar build.
‘A good corset will do the trick,’ LadyRothborne had said. ‘I don’t quite think lilac is your colour,though. Try on some others.’
Mary had looked uncertainly at LadyRothborne. Despite her hope and growing belief that she was becoming moreto the Mansfields than the third housemaid, she still held an uncertainty abouttrying on someone else’s finest clothes without their knowledge. Evenshe, with her humble wardrobe, would not have appreciated somebody else puttingthem on without her knowing.
‘Go on,’ Lady Rothborne had said. ‘Ihave one or two things to attend to, so I shall leave you in peace. Irealise you probably do not wish to be seen unclothed by a person elderlyenough to be your grandmother. Take your time.’
Mary had nodded
