Different Tides (19 page)

So, Clementine used their mutual father’s name, as if she had the sole right to it.

A pair of brown eyes assessed her. ‘I’m so sorry to hear of your loss.’

Alexandra inclined her head in as gracious a manner as she was able, because along with most of her spine, her neck ached from being thrown about in the carriage like a sack of potatoes. There was also a prolonged surge of envy in her when she gazed upon her rival, for that’s what she was – a rival for the legacy. The girl was pleasant to look at, but Alexandra knew she was no match for her own looks.

She managed to swallow her ire, as years of learning how to control her emotions had taught her. ‘Thank you, Miss Morris, my foster father’s death was a great blow.’

Clementine’s eyes closed in a moment where she seemed to be thinking. Then the lids opened on a puzzled expression. ‘You remind me of someone.’

Alexandra decided to lodge her claim with this girl, right now. ‘Our mutual father, Howard Morris, perhaps?’

‘It couldn’t be him, since I was born after he died.’

‘I never even knew about Howard Morris until a few weeks ago. It’s disconcerting to think you are one thing and then find out you are someone else.’

They gazed at each other while a maid brought them refreshment. The woman bustled around sending inquisitive looks her way. She would carry any information she gleaned back to the servants’ quarters, no doubt. The fussing annoyed Alexandra. Already tired from the journey, she snapped, ‘Leave us.’

The atmosphere tightened after Annie left, red-faced with the embarrassment of being dismissed so curtly.

‘You didn’t need to speak to her like that.’

‘The staff are too familiar.’

‘They’ve worked here a long time and deserve some consideration.’

Alexandra bristled. ‘They are servants, and should know their place. So should you, Miss Morris. Whether you prove to be my sister or not, I understand you’re employed by Mr Fleet. That makes you a servant in my eyes.’

‘I know exactly what my position is in this house. You’re a guest, Miss Tate. May I suggest that if you know so much about managing a household like this, you should be well aware of what
your
place is in it.’ She stood. ‘I’m answerable only to Mr Fleet. I think this conversation between us is now at an end. Enjoy your refreshment. I’ll send a maid to take you to your room when one is available.’

Half an hour ticked by before a knock came at the door. ‘It’s about time,’ Alexandra said when a maid appeared. ‘I was beginning to think I’d been forgotten.’

‘Sorry, Miss. I was unpacking your trunk and hanging your gowns in the wardrobe. The fire is alight and your chamber is nice and warm. I’ve put a jug of warm water and a bowl in your room and laid all the toilet things out in case you want to refresh yourself. Now, if you’d follow me please, Miss Tate.’

The maid’s back bristled with affront as she went upstairs.

Five minutes later Alexandra tugged at the bell pull. It was ten minutes before the maid arrived, out of breath. ‘Yes, Miss.’

‘The water is lukewarm, and you’ve hung my gowns up without pressing the creases from them.’

‘I have other duties to attend to, Miss.’

Dragging the gowns from the wardrobe, Alexandra threw them on the bed. ‘Take them downstairs to press them else I’ll report you to Mr Fleet. And take this with you.’ Alexandra thrust the jug of water at her so violently that the contents slopped out the top and hit Annie in the face.

The maid cried out with the shock of it.

Sensing a movement in the hall outside, Alexandra said solicitously, ‘I’m so sorry. I tripped over the rug.’

‘What on earth is going on? You’re soaking wet, Annie,’ Julia Beck said, coming into the room uninvited.

Alexandra gazed at the girl and smiled. ‘Well, go on, Annie, tell Mrs Beck what happened.’

‘Miss Tate tripped over the rug and I was splashed.’

‘I see.’ The woman eyed the tangle of clothing on the bed. ‘You go and get dry, Annie, I’ll help Miss Tate hang her clothes up.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Beck.’

‘My gowns need pressing.’

Julia dismissed that. ‘Oh, the creases will drop out in a day or two if they’re shaken out and hung properly. How did you get on with Clementine? Such a dear girl.’

‘I did my best to make friends, though I think Miss Morris is rather put out by me being here. She excused herself and left me waiting. She must have forgotten me because it was half an hour before a maid attended me.’

‘Clementine did?’

‘I’ve just been allocated this room, and as you can see it’s nowhere near ready.’

‘Mr Fleet doesn’t come here much and the house is run by a reduced number of staff. It’s not like being in London society. Where we are capable of managing for ourselves, we do. Mr Fleet relies heavily on Clementine. She has sole charge of his nephew and niece, and manages the day-to-day affairs of Martingale House in his absence. She is a capable young woman.’

‘Oh, I can see that she is. I imagine it’s because I was tired, and misinterpreted what was said and done.’ Alexandra remembered the gown she’d bought, visible under the other garments. ‘Don’t worry about my wardrobe, Mrs Beck, of course I can hang it up by myself. Thank you for pointing out my shortcomings. I feel quite ashamed of myself.’

‘There’s a dear girl. We must all help each other where we can.’

‘I’ll also apologize to Miss Morris, and hope she’ll forgive me.’

‘If there has been a misunderstanding between you I’m sure she will.’

Alexandra apologized over dinner, aware that any dissent that might arise from it would make Clementine appear churlish.

‘I’m sorry about the misunderstanding we had earlier, Miss Morris. I do hope you’ll forgive me for mistaking you for a servant. I misinterpreted your position in the household.’

‘It was partly my fault, I imagine. I never know what my exact position is in the house. I suppose it could appear that I was a maid to an outsider, so let us forget about it.’

An outsider, was she? ‘I would rather clear the air now.’

‘Discussion serves only to cloud it at this time. Any friction between us is a private matter. I do not intend to embarrass the present company with a trivial matter that is of no concern to anyone else.’

Clementine was quick-minded, and had deftly turned the tables on her. Alexandra drew in a slow breath. ‘Then I hope you’ll call me by my Christian name, and allow me to address you by yours, Clementine. It would be much friendlier.’

‘I have no objection … Alexandra.’

‘There,’ Julia soothed. ‘We’re all friends again.’

Julia was mistaken, Alexandra thought, her glance going to Zachariah Fleet who was gazing at Clementine in mild contemplation, his thoughts safely guarded behind the calm surface of his eyes. He was a man completely in charge of himself.

Or was he?

Alexandra saw Clementine flick him a grin that was little more than a twitch of the lip and her host raised his eyebrow slightly.

There was something intangible between them … a frisson of tension that was felt rather than seen. They were certainly aware of each other.

Was Clementine his mistress; was that why she was paid? After all there was a nursery maid for the children, so why would they need someone like Clementine to have sole charge of them?

The thought that they might be lovers gave her pleasure as well as a sense of power. In such a situation it would be easy to ruin Clementine’s reputation with a word here or a word there.

Clementine tried to like Alexandra, but despite the supposed connection between them she couldn’t bring herself to adopt the role of long-lost sister. She suspected that Alexandra felt the same way towards her.

Alexandra seemed to have two faces. The public one was all elegance. She played the piano brilliantly, sang sweetly and was beautiful as well as clever. Every time she seated herself she was a study of grace and she hardly disturbed the air when she rose. When they were in the same room together, Clementine felt clumsy and awkward.

Alexandra’s hair stayed in its ringlets, unlike her own, which had strands that detached from her braid to dance around her head with every puff of wind that blew. Clementine had never been good at enhancing her own looks, but then, she’d never felt she had to before.

In private, Alexandra was impatient and always found something to criticize. She was meticulous and demanding about the most unimportant of matters, which was annoying.

‘Look at the dust on this glove. The banister must need cleaning and someone should speak to the housekeeper.’ Though who she thought was the
someone
responsible for informing Mrs Ogden, wasn’t quite clear. Or she would pick on the children. ‘Go and ask your maid to wipe your noses … and please try and control those dogs. They came into my room when I was resting and were quite unruly. They knocked the cup off my table with their tails and leapt on the bed.’

Edward went so far as to poke his tongue out at her back, and Iris giggled. Clementine then had to reprimand them, and forbid them to have any cake for tea as a punishment. Lack of respect towards any guest could not be encouraged, even though Clementine had childishly felt as though she’d like to poke her own tongue out at her. She also suspected she was being undermined by Alexandra, but couldn’t understand why.

Worse, all the servants hopped to do Alexandra’s bidding, lest they were reported to Mrs Ogden. Mrs Ogden had muttered one day, ‘If she doesn’t stop ringing that dashed bell and complaining I think I’ll strangle her with the bell pull. “Do this! Do that!” Who does she think she is, the mistress of the house?’

To which Annie answered, ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she fancied herself in the role. She’s got her eye on the main chance, does that one. I see her simpering to Mr Fleet and making sheep’s eyes at him. If he ain’t careful he’ll find himself standing at the altar with her … then God help us all.’

Mrs Ogden gave a derisive snort. ‘Not Mr Fleet; he’s too clever for the likes of a little gold-digger like her. Fleet by name, Fleet by nature – that’s him.’

It all came to a head one day when Clementine couldn’t find her nursery maid. Clementine discovered Polly in Alexandra’s bedchamber, arranging the woman’s hair. She waited until she came down the stairs then tackled her about it. ‘That isn’t your job, Polly. Where are the children?’

‘Miss Tate wanted her hair done seeing as though you’re going to that charity music performance. Mrs Beck said she’d look after the children for a while. I’ll be finished in a few minutes. I just need to press her gown.’

‘I see. Well, try not to be too long. She isn’t the only one who needs to get ready.’

She found the children downstairs in the drawing room, where Julia was reading them a story.

‘I’m so sorry, Julia. Polly will be available to look after them in a little while, and in the meantime I’ll be here. So if you want to go elsewhere you don’t have to worry about the children.’

‘It’s all right, dear. I enjoyed their company. They’ve been so good that I can only say they’re a credit to you.’

‘What’s a credit?’ Iris asked.

‘It means that you’ve behaved yourself and I’m going to give you a piece of my Turkish Delight as a reward.’

Clementine could almost see Edward’s ears prick up as he turned Julia’s way with a big smile. ‘I’ve been good too.’

‘Of course you have, my dear boy. You will both have some.’

Her glance went to Clementine. ‘You should treat children like dogs, my dear. Praise them often and feed them treats as a reward, then, apart from a woof or two, you should never get any trouble from them. That goes for men too. They like to feel appreciated and useful, even when they’re being the opposite.’

The exchange made Clementine laugh.

Julia patted her hand. ‘There, that’s better. You’ve been looking a bit glum lately. Will you be doing something with your hair? You should be getting ready, you know.’

‘I can never do my hair. I expect I’ll just braid it.’

‘You certainly will not. I’ll ask Zachariah’s man to fashion it for you. Evan used to work in the theatre when he was young so is a genius with hair and dress. What are you wearing?’

‘I haven’t given it much thought.’

‘You should consider wearing that cream taffeta gown with the tiered skirt and collar. It’s very becoming. And that embroidered shawl will match the rosebuds decorating the scalloped hems. Come, dear, we will give the children their treat and leave them with Polly while I help you dress. We don’t want to keep Zachariah waiting. His patience is not infinite, and it’s already stretched a little thin.’

Tears filled her eyes. ‘I’m trying to keep everything under control, but the servants keep getting called on to do other than their normal tasks.’

Julia gave her a hug. ‘The responsibility of running this house is not yours alone, my dear, and don’t think that Zachariah hasn’t noticed the effort you’ve been putting in. No doubt he will reward you in his own way. After today I will confer with Mrs Ogden and suggest to her that the servants be reminded of their assigned duties.

‘Alexandra will complain if they don’t attend her immediately.’

‘Let her. She has far too much to say for herself.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Although I shouldn’t say it, she’s a disagreeable creature altogether. Further to that I will ask John to counsel Zachariah as to the benefits of seeing if he can hire a ladies’ maid from the domestic agency for the duration of her visit. In fact, I will interview the candidates myself, and make sure she’s suitable. Now, dry those tears, else your eyes will be all red and puffy, and most unattractive.’

Within ten minutes Evan was working on Clementine’s hair. He was a dapper little man. Soon he had her hair parted in the middle and drawn into a knot at the crown, where a posy of creamy silk flowers was attached. Miraculously, the strands of hair that usually flew about her face were tamed into pretty ringlets.

‘There, I told you Evan was a genius,’ Julia said.

‘He certainly is. Thank you so much, Evan, it was kind of you.’

He made a little bow. ‘I’m at your service, Miss Morris. There’s very little to do here in the country when compared to London, so you just have to ask.’