The Maid's Secret Read Free Page B

she’ll ride well.’
    Ellen hurried back to the house. Her cheeks were flushed with anger. She’d understood Tuke’s snide remarks even if Christopher hadn’t. He’s been sheltered, she thought. Don’t young men of his class banter about females in ’way such as Tuke do? Surely at school? Maybe they do, but in a different manner and not in front of women.
    Mrs Marshall beckoned to her to hurry when she went back into the kitchen. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she admonished. ‘Mrs Whitton has been looking for you. Mistress is expecting visitors this morning and you need to set a tray of tea and biscuits for ’em. Get a clean tray cloth and use ’best but one silverware and ’second best china. Come on. They’ll be here any minute.’
    ‘Yes, Cook, sorry. I was held up. I’ll explain later,’ she murmured, not wanting Flo to hear where she stood by the range stirring soup. ‘And I need to ask you something.’
    When they were alone, she said, ‘Master Christopher asked me to look at his new mare. I could hardly refuse, could I?’ she added, as if she hadn’t really wanted to go. ‘Especially as he said it was a birthday present. I thought that he must be quite lonely, having to ask a servant to share his pleasure. And what I thought, Mrs Marshall, was that wouldn’t it be nice if I made him something for his birthday, which is next week, by the way, and ’onny thing I could think of was that I could mebbe mek him a cake, you know, like I did before.’
    Mrs Marshall gazed at her and said sharply, ‘Yes, I know it’s next week. I allus mek him a cake, have done since he was a two-year-old.’ She thought for a moment, then said, ‘But aye, you could do. One for him to eat down here wi’ us, and I’ll mek him another for upstairs that he can share wi’ his parents. But don’t go thinking he’s lonely, for I’m sure he’s not. He’s got plenty of friends from round about and from school, and some of ’em’ll be coming to his party next week.’
    She contemplated for a second and then went on, ‘And what you think is loneliness is more likely shyness. He’s a quiet sort o’ young man, allus was, even when he was just a bairn, not one for a lot o’ noise and excitement, but rather retiring and serious. And,’ she added in a precautionary manner, ‘don’t go thinking you can mek a friend of him.’ She shook her head. ‘Cos you can’t.’

Chapter Three
    Ellen wasn’t convinced. Why? she argued to herself. Why can’t I? She was aware of the huge differences between herself and Mrs Hart, who didn’t even notice her if she passed her in the hall, when, as she had been taught, Ellen stood stock still until she had gone by. If she was serving tea to Mrs Hart or her guests, none saw or spoke to her unless it was to ask for more hot water. She would curtsey and disappear, reappear with the hot water, curtsey again and back out of the room.
    But Christopher was different. In the house he didn’t speak to her if his parents were there, but he always smiled to acknowledge her presence, which she found not only comforting but also very agreeable, as if she were special.
    During the week of his birthday she agreed with Cook that she would make the cake late one evening when everyone bar Daisy the new kitchen maid had gone to bed, and that Daisy could help her. She bade the girl bring out the mixing bowl, the wooden spoons, the flour, butter, eggs, sugar and chocolate: she was going to make Master Christopher a chocolate cake.
    She put on Cook’s large apron, stirred and then beat the flour, sugar and butter, whisked the eggs and melted the chocolate. Daisy greased and lined the cake tin, and the mixture was gently poured in. No matter how many cakes I make in my life, Ellen thought, I can say that this will be the best one ever. She carefully placed it in the oven, and whilst Daisy washed the bowls and utensils she sat down and waited, feeling that she was queen of her domain. This must be how Mrs