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“Tomorrow then,” Marilee said with determination. She twisted her mess of curly hair into a spiral at the top of her head, wrapped a length of cloth around it until it held, and then pulled the band of fabric around her forehead once more. By the end of the day her hands were raw and aching. Twice she had felt so dizzy from the heat that she had been forced hang her head out of the window in the hall. Mrs. Cavendish had been walking by at just that moment and shouted at her to close the window at once.
“Do you think we have enough coal to heat the whole of London?” she berated Marilee who could barely find it in herself to care. “I won’t stop you from opening the window in that room but you leave the others be. I will not have the rest of us catching our deaths because you thought it fine to let the chill inside.”
Marilee had taken one more gulp of fresh air before pulling the window closed. Mrs. Cavendish had not even known that Peggy had not had access to the window in months. Or worse, she had known and had neither cared nor offered an alternative reprieve. Marilee suspected the latter. Perhaps she did not even know there was a window in the laundry room. There was a thought, however it would take weeks to get the laundry down to such a mass that the window could be reached.
How Peggy had managed to survive the warmer days, which would only have amplified the stifling heat of the room, she had no idea. The woman had a will of iron, Marilee realized. If Peggy ever escaped this prison, and Marilee vowed that if she did, then Peggy would too, she would be a formidable force to contend with. Peggy, it seemed had the strength to survive the worst. Marilee was determined to find that same strength in herself.
When the carriage had been stopped and the duke and his men had been killed, Marilee had been overcome by fear. It was Miss Caroline who had kept a clear head and made a plan, but Marilee had been frozen. Never again. She swore to herself that she would never again cower and react without thought or reason. If she wanted to be free of this prison, she would need to keep her wits about her, like Peggy and Miss Caroline. She need only bide her time until Baron Wickham provided the ransoms. Even if the baron refused to pay for Marilee, Miss Caroline would never abandon her friend. All she needed to do was wait. She continued that mantra in her head while she worked. She needed only stay calm, keep her fear in check, and wait. Meanwhile, the grueling work took all of her strength.
It took three days to make enough progress to reveal the latch that had held the window closed, but simply undoing the latch did not open the window. It stuck fast, either from warping or it was nailed shut. Marilee groaned, but Peggy, using a stick that was used to stir the laundry in the hot vats, managed to get the window to move. Excited by the prospect of an open window, Marilee climbed over the remaining clothing to help push. At last, with a loud creak, the window opened but a crack. Marilee tumbled from the piles of laundry with the effort.
In that moment, when Peggy had the honor of flinging wide the paned frame, both she and Marilee took a well-deserved break, giggling like mad women, as they reveled in the sensation of the cool breeze fluttering over their flushed skin. Perhaps, Marilee thought, they were a little mad. Looking at nothing but the dormitory walls at night and the laundry room by day was enough to drive anyone mad. People, Marilee thought, were meant to see the sunshine each day, such as it was in merry old England. The feeling of wind on her skin was heaven indeed.
The servants had all been elated as bit by bit more clean clothing had been put into rotation. Marilee had taken to the task of delivering the items throughout the day to their respective owners. Of course, the progress was minimal when incoming piles of soiled clothing only gathered at the door, but the improvement in the mood of the house was palpable. It was amazing how a set of clean, starched clothing could make one feel more like a person of worth.
“Take this pile to Kitty,” Peggy instructed, naming a pockmarked maid who had been in the house nearly as long as she. “She is the last before we start the rotation anew.”
Marilee received the folded pile and added a small satchel of dried lavender that they had been distributing amongst the ranks so that it might be rubbed upon fabrics and bodies to leave a pleasant scent amongst the staff until they could wash their clothing again. Peggy had been begging for a supply of the sprigs for months and her request had only just been fulfilled. She said Marilee must be her good luck charm.
Marilee went off to find Kitty. She wandered through the house in search of the woman. Marilee had had little chance to leave the lower levels of the house and it was always a boon to spend a few moments in the elegant parlors and high-ceilinged halls that were occupied by the Blackwells and their guests. It almost felt like another world compared to the dull and musty rooms below and Marilee was in no hurry to return to her work next to the hot vats.
Kitty was met in the dining hall where she must have been going from room to room stoking the fires since she had a bundle of sticks for kindling, a plow and an iron container for the spent ashes. Rather than tending to the fire, however, she was peering through a crack in the door which led out into the grand hall.
She did not even notice Marilee until she had drawn up beside her and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Gads,” Kitty gasped and moved to block the gap in the door through which she had been looking. “Oh! My dress. Finally. This thing would stand on its own it’s so full of soot.” She plucked at her skirt which did indeed look quite firm.
“What are you looking at?” Marilee asked. She knew she was not meant to speak to the others about anything other than their duties, but neither were they meant to spy, so she did not think that Kitty would report the conversation to Mrs. Cavendish.
Kitty smiled a devilish smile that belied her next words. “Nothing,” she said. Kitty shook her head, but Marilee was not convinced. She stared at the scullery maid with one eyebrow quirked.
“Don’t out me; I beg you,” Kitty groaned as Marilee pushed through to peek into the room to see what had Kitty so captivated.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Marilee promised. “I only wondered what might be so entertaining. I have seen nothing of interest since my arrival, and am quite sick of looking at four walls. It must be good if you’d risk it. Mrs. Cavendish could have walked up on you just as easily as I.” Marilee felt a small smile cross her features. It felt like ages since Marilee had spoken freely with anyone other than Peggy, and even longer since she smiled.
Kitty sighed and moved away from her vantage point so that Marilee might look for herself. “He’s just so handsome,” Kitty sighed. “Don’t you think?”
Marilee peered through the crack to see the very same man who she had seen in the kitchen just a few days ago. He was indeed handsome; more so now with the sunlight streaming in through the window and catching the angles of his face.
“Who is he?” Marilee asked as she peered out into the hall. It was empty save for the young man. He was wearing a smart black frock coat and staring with frustration at the pocket watch attached to a simple chained fob. He clicked it shut and sighed.
Kitty had been right. He was handsome. His hair was middling brown in color and a bit too long to be fashionable but he was dressed well for a man who was clearly of the professional world and not nobility.
“I’ve no idea,” Kitty giggled. “He appears every few days and is always set to wait. Don’t tell Mrs. Cavendish that I’ve been spying. It’s just a simple pleasure that I allow myself to look from a distance. There is so little to enjoy here that you cannot fault me for my imaginations.” Her voice pleaded with Marilee to understand and not betray her secret. Marilee sighed and nodded, understanding far too well how few things they had to look forward to each day. If Kitty liked to look upon this stranger and imagine a life outside of Blackwell house, then Marilee could not fault her. She said as much and Kitty giggled and glanced back through the door to the man.
Marilee turned to make her exit and leave the maid to her peeping, but her dress caught in the handle of the metal bucket and the entire thing toppled and clattered while Marilee, tangled in her skirts, went down on her backside. With relief she noted that the bucket had been sealed with a lid that had kept the contents from spilling across the floor.
Kitty gasped and looked wide-eyed at Marilee, but it was too late. The door swung open, and they were confronted by the handsome stranger who had caught them red-handed behind the door. He took in the plow and bucket, Marilee attempting and failing to unwrap her skirts from its handle, and the maid who was frozen with fear. His eyes traveled between the pair when it was clear that they were too dumbfounded to speak.
“Hello again,” he chirped to Marilee, revealing a devilishly charming smile as he looked from one to the other.
Kitty squealed and turned tail without bothering to retrieve her items. Before Marilee could call her back, she was gone and Marilee was left sitting dumbly under the amused grin of the intruder. He reached down to help her up, and she took his aid.
His hand was warm and smooth as she scrambled to her feet. A jolt of energy seemed to travel from his fingers straight to her heart. She felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment…or perhaps it was something else entirely.
“I beg pardon,” she said with a little curtsey. “We had not meant to disturb a guest. In fact, I wasn’t… I mean… Kitty was really the one…” She stopped, realizing that an explanation might only put the girl in danger if he were to mention their behavior to anyone else. Besides, she too had been caught spying even if only to discover the object of Kitty’s attention. Rather than bother with an explanation she clasped her hands at her front and did her best to look contrite. She tipped her head towards her shoes, but she couldn’t sustain the glance. No, she had to look at this beautiful man. His lips were full and if the smile on his face was any indication, he was of a pleasant temperament. Could she speak to him? She wondered. Could he get a message to someone for her? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, when he spoke.
“No apology necessary,” he replied, pressing his lips together as if to suppress his amusement. “Perhaps you might be able to tell me when Lady Lydia might be available to look at the accounts?”
