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Hester spent the afternoon in the study writing letters. She would have been permitted to use the ladies’ maids’ sitting room, had she wished, but Beatrice did not need her, having decided to sleep, and it would be easier to write away from Mary’s and Gladys’s chatter.
She had written to Charles and Imogen, and to several of her friends from Crimean days, when Cyprian came in. He did not seem surprised to see her, and apologized only perfunctorily for the intrusion.
“You have a large family, Miss Latterly?” he said, noticing the pile of letters.
“Oh no, only a brother,” she said. “The rest are to friends with whom I nursed during the war.”
“You formed such friendships?” he asked curiously, interest quickening in his face. “Do you not find it difficult to settle back into life in England after such violent and disturbing experiences?”
She smiled, in mockery at herself rather than at him.
“Yes I do,” she admitted candidly. “One had so much more responsibility; there was little time for artifice or standing upon ceremony. It was a time of so many things: terror, exhaustion, freedom, friendship that crossed all the normal barriers, honesty such as one cannot normally afford—”
He sat facing her, balancing on the arm of one of the easy chairs.
“I have read a little of the war in the newspapers,” he said with a pucker between his brows. “But one never knows how accurate the accounts are. I fear they tell us very much what they wish us to believe. I don’t suppose you have read any—no, of course not.”
“Yes I have!” she contradicted immediately, forgetting in the heat of the discourse how improper it was for well-bred women to have access to anything but the social pages of a newspaper.
But he was not shocked, only the more interested.
“Indeed, one of the bravest and most admirable men I nursed was a war correspondent with one of London’s best newspapers,” she went on. “When he was too ill to write himself, he would
dictate to me, and I sent his dispatches for him.”
“Good gracious. You do impress me, Miss Latterly,” he said sincerely. “If you can spare time, I should be most interested to hear some of your opinions upon what you saw. I have heard rumors of great incompetence and a terrible number of unnecessary deaths, but then others say such stories are spread by the disaffected and the troublemakers wishing to advance their own cause at the expense of others.”
“Oh, there is some of that too,” she agreed, setting her quill and paper aside. He seemed so genuinely concerned it gave her a distinct pleasure to recount to him both some of what she had seen and experienced and the conclusions she had drawn from it.
He listened with total attention, and his few questions were perceptive and made with both pity and a wry humor she found most attractive. Away from the influence of his family, and for an hour forgetting his sister’s death and all the misery and suspicion it brought in its wake, he was a man of individual ideas, some quite innovative with regard to social conditions and the terms of agreement and service between the governed and the governing.
They were deep in discussion and the shadows outside were lengthening when Romola came in, and although they were both aware of her, it was several minutes before they let go of the topic of argument and acknowledged her presence.
“Papa wishes to speak to you,” she said with a frown. “He is waiting in the withdrawing room.”
Reluctantly Cyprian rose to his feet and excused himself from Hester as if she had been a much regarded friend, not a semiservant.
When he had gone Romola looked at Hester with perplexed concern in her smooth face. Her complexion really was very lovely and her features perfectly proportioned, all except her lower lip, which was a trifle full and drooped at the corners sometimes, giving her a discontented look in repose, especially when she was tired.
“Really, Miss Latterly, I don’t know how to express myself without seeming critical, or how to offer advice where it may not be desired. But if you wish to obtain a husband, and surely all natural women must, then you will have to learn to master this intellectual and argumentative side of your nature. Men do not find it in the least attractive in a woman. It makes them uncomfortable. It is not restful and does not make a man feel at his ease or as if you give proper deference to his judgment. One does not wish to appear opinionated! That would be quite dreadful.”
She moved a stray hair back into its pins with a skilled hand.
“I can remember my mama advising me when I was a girl—it is most unbecoming in a woman to be agitated about anything. Almost all men dislike agitation and anything that detracts from a woman’s image as serene, dependable, innocent of all vulgarity or meanness, never critical of anything except slovenliness or unchastity, and above all never contradictory towards a man, even if you should think him mistaken. Learn how to run your household, how to eat elegantly, how to dress well and deport yourself with dignity and charm, the correct form of address for everyone in society, and a little painting or drawing, as much music as you can master, especially singing if you have any gift at all, some needlework, an elegant hand with a pen, and a pleasing turn of phrase for a letter—and above all how to be obedient and control your temper no matter how you may be provoked.
“If you do all these things, Miss Latterly, you will marry as well as your comeliness and your station in life allow, and you will make your husband happy. Therefore you also will be happy.” She shook her head very slightly. “I fear you have quite a way to go.”
Hester achieved the last of these admonitions instantly, and kept her temper in spite of monstrous provocation.
“Thank you, Mrs. Moidore,” she said after taking a deep breath. “I fear perhaps I am destined to remain single, but I shall not forget your advice.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Romola said with deep sympathy. “It is a most unnatural state for a woman. Learn to bridle your tongue, Miss Latterly, and never give up hope.”
Fortunately, upon that final piece of counsel she went back to the withdrawing room, leaving Hester boiling with words unsaid. And yet she was curiously perplexed, and her temper crippled by a sense of pity that did not yet know its object, only that there was confusion and unhappiness and she was sharply aware of it.
Hester took the opportunity to rise early the following day and find herself small tasks around the kitchen and laundry in the hope of improving her acquaintance with some of the other servants—and whatever knowledge they might have. Even if the pieces seemed to them to be meaningless, to Monk they might fit with other scraps to form a picture.
Annie and Maggie were chasing each other up the stairs and falling over in giggles, stuffing their aprons in their mouths to stop the sound from carrying along the landing.
