Secrets and Lords. Justine Elyot

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      He was attractive and all that, but he was dangerous. Far too dangerous, a giant ‘Keep Away’ sign in masculine form. She couldn’t afford to take risks.

      But he chased her into uneasy sleep, as if the warmth she had felt radiating from his dressing-gowned post-coital body had seeped into her pores and remained there, a vestige of his presence tormenting her from a distance.

      In her dreams, his fingers brushed her face again, and then they went further, snaking into her hair, luring her closer, until their bodies touched and then their lips. If dream kisses were like real kisses, then how did people ever stop? The richness of the sensation turned her inside out and left her helpless and overwhelmed.

      ***

      A hideous clangour shook her out of Charles Deverell’s dream arms and ripped his dream lips from hers. The other girls were already out of their beds, yawningly splashing their faces in the basin or pulling on uniforms.

      She took twice as long as they did to get ready and had to rush breakfast. She did not have time to talk at all until she and Jenny were in the corridor with their feather dusters and their tins of wax, ready to set to work on the skirting boards.

      ‘What does Sir Charles generally do all day?’ she asked.

      Jenny gave her a furious look.

      ‘I want to know so that I can avoid him,’ Edie explained.

      ‘Oh, I see. He goes out a lot, motoring in that new monster of his. Plays tennis with Lady Mary. Walks his dogs.’ She looked up as if the ceiling might give her more information. ‘Not much, when you think about it. What I’d give to live his life.’

      ‘Does he have nothing more to occupy him at all?’

      ‘He has some dealings with the estate and some of Lord Deverell’s landed tenants. There’s a manufactory outside Kingsreach that he sometimes goes and … does things … at. I don’t know. It ain’t my place to know, is it?’

      ‘I suppose not. And … Her Ladyship. Has she a great many interests?’

      ‘Lord, why are you asking me? She is always going out to lunch. And she works for a lot of charities, sits on committees, all that kind of thing.’

       Boredom has thrown them together. Boredom and disaffection.

      And passion. But Edie did not want to think about passion.

      She had no choice but to do so, however, when she and Jenny entered the morning room to clean it and found Sir Charles there again, as he had been yesterday. Was he here because he knew she would be?

      Edie kept her head down, passing behind his chair in the hope that he might not notice her.

      But the hope was vain.

      ‘Our Lady Macbeth,’ he said, putting down his newspaper.

      Edie, whose hands already shook, was almost overcome with panic. What on earth would Jenny think of this? She made no reply and rubbed harder at a greasy fingermark on one of the window frames.

      ‘You’ll have to remember your taper next time,’ he added. ‘Won’t you?’

      There was a silence. From the corner of her eye, Edie saw Jenny’s horrified countenance. Presumably she would have to answer, now he had asked a question.

      ‘I’m not sure what you mean, sir,’ she said.

      ‘Hmph. Have it your way.’ The newspaper rustled again and no more was said.

      ***

      ‘What was all that about?’ asked Jenny furiously, once they were out of the room.

      Edie, enjoying the sensation of being able to breathe again, shook her head.

      ‘I’ve no idea.’

      ‘Lady Macbeth?’

      ‘I don’t know Shakespeare.’

      ‘I bet you do, with all your London theatre-going. What’s he on about?’

      ‘I’ve told you,’ said Edie, and she couldn’t keep a rising note of antagonism from her voice. ‘I don’t know.’

      Jenny was put out and conversation was scarce for the rest of the morning. At lunch, Jenny sat with all the other girls at the opposite end of the table, whispering and casting glances over at Edie.

      Her heart sank. She was friendless here.

      Until Ted strode in, put his peaked cap down on the end of the table and snagged one of her slices of bread and butter.

      ‘Hey!’

      ‘Cut yourself another,’ he said. ‘I’ve just driven all the way back from town at a steady forty miles per hour. I’ve earned my daily bread.’

      He sat down beside her, warming her with his presence and his cheeky smile.

      ‘You’re still here then,’ he said.

      ‘Somehow,’ she replied with a grimace, then she whispered. ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll last.’

      ‘When’s your day off?’

      ‘Wednesday.’

      ‘Well, I hope you’ll last till then. Cos I’d like to take you out.’

      ‘Oh!’ Edie blinked rapidly. Was this a proposition? Was he expressing romantic interest in her? She was so inexperienced that she hardly knew if his intentions were amorous or merely friendly.

      She decided to assume the latter.

      ‘Well, perhaps a walk out into the country would be nice,’ she said. ‘Or … something of that kind.’

      ‘His Lordship’s got a shoot on that day. I won’t be needed. I’ll see what’s on at the picture palace, shall I?’

      ‘Well, I suppose so,’ she said dubiously.

      ‘Don’t knock me out with enthusiasm, girl.’

      She saw Mrs Fingall beaming approval as the others muttered and looked daggers. It seemed she couldn’t please Jenny and her friends – Ted and Sir Charles were a rock and a hard place, apparently. But which was which?

      ‘Mrs Munn, I think Edie knows her way around now,’ said Jenny as the housekeeper came to join the meal. ‘May I go back to working alone?’

      ‘Does that suit you, Edie?’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Edie sighed. It didn’t, not really. She still had so much she wanted to learn from Jenny. But if she wanted to believe stupid things of her, then that couldn’t be helped.

      ‘I’m not entirely sure you’re ready, but I’ll give you a chance.’

      * * *

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