The Maid's Secret Read Free Page A

Mrs Marshall’s recommendation. She was given two new uniforms, one for morning and one for the afternoon. Flo grumbled that she had been there for much longer than Ellen and was still stuck in the kitchen.
    ‘Well, much as I don’t want to lose her,’ Cook answered briskly, ‘she’s got potential to improve herself. I can’t say ’same for you, my girl, so get on with what you’re doing and be quick about it.’
    Ellen was moved to a room in the attic. It was colder than the kitchen and she shared with two of the other maids; Mrs Marshall took on another kitchen maid to help Flo, which meant that Flo had someone working beneath her again.
    The work upstairs meant getting up very early to clean out the fire grates before the family came down, sweeping, dusting and changing the bed linen, and it also meant that when Christopher came home in the holidays Ellen rarely saw him, only occasionally coming across him whilst carrying out upstairs duties. It was about a year later, on a day when she had gone outside to take a breath of air, that he crossed the yard on his way to the stable block and saw her.
    ‘Hello,’ he greeted her. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while.’
    ‘I’m still here,’ she said, and then added, daringly, ‘but you do know that we’re supposed to be invisible?’
    He looked taken aback and she thought that her tongue might have got the better of her. She looked down and meekly murmured, ‘Sorry, sir.’
    ‘Is that what you’re told? To be invisible?’ His voice was low, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.
    She nodded. ‘Yes. That’s what I was told when I first came to work here.’
    ‘How ridiculous,’ he said. ‘Those are not my views.’ He looked at her steadily for a moment and then asked, ‘Would you like to come and look at my new horse? It’s a birthday present.’
    ‘Oh, is it your birthday, sir?’ She sometimes missed out on the kitchen gossip. ‘I didn’t know.’
    ‘Next week. I’ll be sixteen. I hope Cook is making me a cake?’
    ‘I’m sure she will be.’ And in her head she began to plan and scheme of a way to persuade Cook to let her make a cake for Master Christopher.
    He led the way to the stable block, where a light-coloured bay was looking out of the open top of a loose box door. Christopher told Ellen he was calling her Sorrel because of her colour. ‘I wanted a stallion, but Father said not yet. I can have one when I reach eighteen.’
    Gingerly Ellen stroked the mare’s long nose and said she was a fine animal, although in truth she wasn’t very fond of horses. Nathaniel Tuke was replenishing the straw bedding in the other boxes and his eyes widened when he saw Ellen accompanying Master Christopher, but then his expression changed to an exaggerated subservience as he bent his head and touched his cap.
    Christopher cleared his throat, and Ellen wondered if he had realized that by bringing her to the stables he had crossed the line between servant and master. He’s embarrassed by ’division between us, she thought. It isn’t something he’s happy about.
    ‘I’ve, erm, brought Ellen to see my latest acquisition,’ he said to Tuke, adding, ‘What do you think? Isn’t she a beauty?’
    Tuke glanced at Ellen from beneath his cap. ‘Certainly is, sir, best mount I’ve seen in a long time.’ He slid back the bolt and opened the stall door to let Ellen see the animal. ‘Treat her right and she’ll serve you well.’
    ‘I’m sorry, I must go,’ Ellen said hurriedly. ‘They’ll be wondering where I am. Thank you for showing her to me, Master Christopher,’ she said, for Tuke’s benefit. ‘It was very kind of you.’
    Behind Christopher’s shoulder she saw Tuke smirk. He gave her a wink and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
    ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ Christopher said. ‘I wanted to show her off. Saddle her up, will you, Tuke, and I’ll take her out.’
    Tuke tipped his cap again. ‘My pleasure, sir,’ he said. ‘I reckon