CHAPTER SIX
Julia accompanied Annabelle to her bedroom with the satisfying sense of a day's work well done. Their lessons had passed pleasantly, the staff had treated her well, and the Marquess – inasmuch as she could read him – seemed pleased with her. If only he would stop asking her questions about her family, she would be perfectly content with her first day at Harding Hall.
"Here you are, Miss Kelsey," she said, opening the bedroom door to find Annabelle's nurse knitting by the fire. "I've brought you a tired-out little Lady."
"Oh, very good," Miss Kelsey beamed. "Come here, my precious, we'll get you to bed directly." She was an older woman, portly and grey-haired, who exuded the comforting sense of homeliness which the best nurses did. As Annabelle ran to embrace her, Miss Kelsey nodded to Julia over the top of her head. "I hope you'll come and spend the evening with Mrs Potter and myself, Miss Mallory. We should like very much to have a little new company."
"I'd be delighted," said Julia. For once, she felt thankful for her strange upbringing. It had left her equally happy to spend time with servants as with the gentry. Some governesses, no doubt, would have come from moneyed families and high positions in society, and would not know what to do with themselves once they were reduced to the position of household staff. Julia had no such problem. Edmund had always made it quite clear that, Duke's daughter or not, she remained his inferior.
"Goodnight, Annabelle," she said, blowing the little girl a kiss.
"Goodnight, Miss Mally." All Julia's endeavours had not yet succeeded in persuading Annabelle to pronounce her name properly. Never mind. It would come with time.
Julia was halfway down the corridor when she realised that she had only the vaguest idea of the way back to her room. Mrs Potter had promised her a maid to show her from place to place, but evidently the girl was delayed. Julia hovered for a moment where the corridor joined the main staircase, trying to remember which of the doors she ought to go through. When she heard hurried footsteps behind her, she turned back gratefully, expecting the maid running late.
Instead, she saw Miss Kelsey bustling along in rather a fluster.
"Oh! Miss Mallory! I am so glad you haven't gone far. Please, will you come into Lady Annabelle's bedroom a moment? The little lady has seen something from the window which – well, I would just appreciate another adult's eyes, to make sure I'm not going mad!"
"Certainly," said Julia, laying a calming hand on Miss Kelsey's arm. "What is it that Annabelle saw? Should we alert the household?"
"I don't rightly know, to tell you the truth. I see nothing myself, however hard I look, but Annabelle insists..." Miss Kelsey opened the bedroom door to reveal Annabelle on tiptoe by the window, staring out with great animation.
"Oh! Miss Mally! Come and see the fairy!" she called. Her little voice squeaked with excitement.
Julia went to the window, which overlooked a walled section of the garden in which dark bushes stood in orderly geometrical lines. "A fairy?" she repeated. "Whatever do you mean, Lady Annabelle?"
"A fairy! I saw it! I saw it out there." Annabelle pointed into the dark garden. Julia felt a quiver of trepidation as she followed Annabelle's finger. She had no wish to witness a supernatural event. The real world gave her quite enough to deal with.
"There is nothing there," she declared, somewhat relieved. Annabelle shook her head in frustration.
"Of course not, Miss Mally. The fairy has disappeared."
Julia bent down to bring her face on a level with Annabelle's. "When you say a fairy, my lady, what exactly do you mean?"
"A fairy lady all in a white dress," Annabelle explained, as though it were obvious.
"And how tall was this fairy? As tall as my finger?" A large moth floating past the window would explain it.
"Oh, no, Miss Mally. This was a real fairy, not one in a book. She was as big as you are." Annabelle popped a finger into her mouth and began speaking around it. Julia gently removed it. "And she was on her way to meet a fairy gentleman."
A nameless prickle of fear ran up Julia's spine. She caught Miss Kelsey's eye. "Did you see a gentleman in the garden, Lady Annabelle?"
Annabelle nodded wordlessly, sensing the trepidation in the air. "But only a fairy, Miss Mally. Not a real gentleman."
"How did you know he wasn't real?" asked Julia. Annabelle trotted over to her bookshelf and pulled out a book. Julia ran her eyes over the title. Country Fairies.
Annabelle leafed through the book impatiently. "Here," she said eventually, holding it up to show Julia the illustration on the page. "This is the gentleman fairy I saw."
The Midnight Fairy, read the name written in curling script under the picture. Julia took the book from Annabelle's hand and displayed it to Miss Kelsey.
The picture showed a dark figure wrapped in a black, hooded cloak. Only its eyes were visible in the shadows – twin almond-shaped gleams.
"What do you think?" Julia mouthed to Miss Kelsey. "It could simply be an overactive imagination..."
"I saw him," Annabelle insisted. "I saw him in the bushes."
Julia bit her lip. She had more reason than most to be afraid of stories of cloaked men creeping through the night, but she couldn't let her past rule her. She was in Chiltern now. London, Edmund, and his cruel friends, all were far away.
"I will alert Mrs Potter and the butler, Mr... Larkin, isn't it?" she said. "You are sure you saw no-one, Miss Kelsey?"
"As certain as I can be, Miss Mallory. Though the child was so insistent, I thought I'd better get a second opinion."
"I saw nothing," said Julia, glancing back nervously at the window. The rows of bushes had taken on a sinister element, now that her mind was full of the image of the Midnight Fairy and his pale gaze. "But it's better to be safe than sorry. I expect Mr Larkin will send some footmen to patrol the grounds."
"Thank you, Miss Mallory," breathed Miss Kelsey. "I don't mind telling you, my heart was thumping when I looked out of that window."
"Mine too," said Julia, trying to smile. "But I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Lady Annabelle. Goodnight, Miss Kelsey."
"Goodnight!" Annabelle chirped, pulling the book back from Julia's hand. "Miss Kelsey, may we read about the fairies tonight?"
"We certainly may." Miss Kelsey's steady tones did a great deal to calm Julia's mind as she left. A young maid was hastening down the corridor towards her.
"Miss Mallory?" she asked, sounding relieved. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Miss. Would you like me to show you to your rooms?"
"Not at present," said Julia. "I need to speak with Mr Larkin. Can you show me to his office?"
"Oh, certainly," said the maid. "Though I expect he'll be in the kitchen at this time, Miss. Shall we try there first?"
Julia followed the maid down a side passage clearly meant for servants' use, and down a set of rickety stairs she would never have discovered alone. The scent of baking bread told her that they were approaching the kitchen. The maid pushed open a door, spilling out golden firelight into the corridor. Julia entered after her.
A young woman was tying an apron around her waist. She frowned when she saw Julia. "Who might you be?"
"Julia Mallory," said Julia warmly, despite the woman's obvious displeasure at her presence. "I'm the new governess."
"Hmph," sniffed the woman, and turned back to the pot on the stove.
"This is Miss Felicity Graham, the cook," whispered the maid. One glance was enough to see that the little maid was terrified of Miss Graham, despite the fact that they seemed very close in age.
Miss Graham was nothing like the chef at Amberley House, who was plump and permanently worried. She was tall – taller than Julia – with blonde hair without a trace of grey pulled back strictly from her face. The arm which stirred the pot was bony but surprisingly strong. Her expression was cold and proud. Julia felt instantly intimidated, even though she knew that technically she outranked the cook. She was clearly a trespasser in Miss Graham's domain.
"I was looking for Mr Larkin," she said, trying not to sound too shy. Miss Graham sniffed again.
"Hmph! He'll be down shortly, I expect, to see to the silver." Her eyes flashed a warning. "Sit down and don't touch anything."
Julia did as she was told. There was no point antagonising Miss Graham when they had only just met. Her chilly welcome had the benefit of driving away Julia's worry over the possible trespasser in the garden.
"Have you worked at Harding Hall long?" she asked, simply to make conversation. Miss Graham whirled around, wielding a wooden spoon as though she'd like to give Julia a smack.
"I know what you're thinking. Too young to be a cook, aren't I? Too young to manage a kitchen for such a household? Well, that's not what his lordship thinks."
"I didn't mean –"
"Course you did. Don't tell me you didn't notice my age, Miss Mallory." Miss Graham looked her up and down appraisingly. "Of course, some might say you're too old to be a governess."
Julia could not believe how rude Miss Graham was being. "I am twenty-nine," she said, not knowing what else to say. Miss Graham sniffed again. Her opinion of single women of the ton who had reached the age of twenty-nine unmarried was all too clear.
Julia felt a sudden itch to explain herself to this irascible woman. To tell her that they were not so different; to reveal that she had grown up in the direst poverty in Seven Dials. That she had passed most of her lonely adulthood turning a blind eye to her brother's unsavoury activities as he fought his way up to become the owner of a notorious gaming hell. She did not know what she hoped to achieve by such a confession – Miss Graham's respect, perhaps? But it was out of the question. She had no reason to trust Miss Graham not to spread her secrets through the household like wildfire – and knowledge of her background would see her cast out from Harding Hall without hesitation.
Mr Larkin made his entrance a moment later, sparing Julia the task of making further conversation with the cook. He listened with half an ear to Julia's tale of fairies and cloaked gentlemen as he inspected the silverware.
"I don't think there's anything to worry about, Miss Mallory," he said dismissively, holding a spoon up to the light and giving it a polish. "Lady Annabelle has always been a very imaginative girl. In any case, we are not in London here. Chiltern is one of the safest parts of England."
"All the same, Mr Larkin," said Julia, knowing that her fear was more to do with the imagined threat of Edmund's wrath than with whatever Annabelle had seen in the garden, "I would appreciate it if you sent someone around the grounds to check."
Mr Larkin sighed. "If it will comfort you, Miss Mallory, then of course. But rest assured there are gentlemen aplenty in the house. Why, Lord Christopher Yardsley is in the library with his lordship at this very moment. I should like to meet the footpad brave enough to mess with him!"
Julia had never heard of this Lord Christopher before, so could not be comforted by his presence.
"Is that all, Miss?" asked Miss Graham, giving Julia a stern look. Whatever Mrs Potter had said, it was clear that Julia was not welcome to spend any more time in the kitchen than was absolutely necessary.
"Thank you for your help," she said, smiling with a warmth she did not feel. "I will take myself to bed."
"Wait a moment." Miss Graham went to the stove and poured some hot milk from a saucepan into a cup. "You'll be wanting something to warm you in a strange new place."
Julia accepted the cup of warm milk gratefully, if in some confusion. Miss Graham's tone was no less prickly, but the kind gesture belied her sharp demeanour. Perhaps she regretted her earlier frostiness. Some people simply required a little time to warm to strangers.
"Thank you," said Julia, this time really meaning it. Miss Graham shrugged carelessly.
"Goodnight, Miss Mallory," said Mr Larkin.
"Goodnight."
The little maid jumped to her feet and ran to open the door for Julia, guiding her expertly back through Harding Hall until they reached the bedroom on the top floor.
"Is Miss Graham always like that?" Julia asked in a whisper, before the maid took her leave. The girl flushed and stared at the floor.
"I don't like to speak ill of her, Miss. She's never really cruel – only sort of crotchety."
"Well, perhaps that's to be expected in someone who's attained her position at such a young age."
"She trained under a French chef in London, you know, Miss," said the maid. Julia smiled wryly.
"And I bet she doesn't let you forget it?"
The maid's eyes widened. "Don't like to say, Miss."
"I see. Well, goodnight. Thank you for your help today."
The maid bobbed a curtsey. "My pleasure, Miss."
And Julia was once again alone in her new home – this time with a cup of hot milk to comfort her.
She sipped the milk as she considered the day's events. She was now acquainted, if briefly, with every member of the household. In Mrs Potter and Miss Kelsey she felt she had firm allies, even if the butler and the cook seemed less than friendly. Annabelle was a lovely, if lively, charge, and the Marquess...
Well. What did she really think of the Marquess?
Could she think about him, without being distracted by the memory of the way his shoulders moved under his tailcoat, the way his hand stroked the dusting of stubble on his chin as he spoke to her? The melancholy music his voice made – no matter what the conversation, always faintly dusted with sadness?
Julia shut her eyes. She had no business thinking of her employer in that sinful manner. Annabelle was not the only one suffering from an overactive imagination.
She set down her milk cup, blew out the candle, and settled down to bed, where she lay awake for some time watching the pattern of moonlight on the wall and thinking of fairies and strange hooded gentlemen. Sleep eluded her.
It was just as well, because no sooner had the clocks struck midnight than she was shaken by a terrible noise from the floors below.