The Elsingham Portrait - By Elizabeth Chater Page 0,36
She got out of bed so quickly that she hurt her arm. It was then she realized that she was wearing a nightgown—too short, but very voluminous. She couldn’t remember putting it on last night—in fact, she couldn’t remember getting to bed at all. The managing Elspeth Cameron had probably managed that. And if she were the doleful singer, what had she thought of Nadine’s nighties? Giggling, Kathryn slipped out of bed and padded over to the dresser on bare feet. She pulled open the top drawer. Yes, there were Nadine’s seductive French wisps, a drift of sheer pastels, so light they seemed almost ready to float out of the drawer. Kathryn picked up a sea-foam green confection and held it to her chest over the heavy linen nightgown. She chuckled. If Glamor Magazine could see me now! She began to waltz slowly, singing under her breath, “In my sweet little Alice blue gown . . .”
“Sing before breakfast, you’ll cry before supper,” came a harsh voice from the doorway.
Kathryn whirled, snatching the pretty negligee away from her body. A short, heavy-set woman, whose black hair was pulled painfully away from her face into a tight bun at the nape of her thick neck, was standing just inside the opened door. She wore a black dress with a huge white apron over it. She came in without invitation and shut the door.
“You’ve no business out of bed in your bare feet, Missus. You’ll catch your death of cold, and be an added burden on them that has to take care of you. Surely you ken that on a working farm” (her accent made “wurrrkin’ fahrum” out of the phrase),”there’s no extra hands to care for idle folk.”
Well, thought Kathryn, drawing a long breath, if that doesn’t discourage fun and games, I don’t know what would! She walked slowly over to the bed, but sat on the side and looked directly into the beady black eyes of her challenger.
“I’m quite well enough to be up and doing,” she said quietly. “I shall not cause anyone any trouble.”
“Ye may tell that last to one who hasna seen your face and figure,” replied her tormentor tartly. “Or observed you dancing and singing in your nightshift.”
“Is singing forbidden on Bennet Farm?” Kathryn asked. “I was sure I heard someone belting out a very doleful hymn a few minutes ago.”
If she meant to discomfit the lady who was most likely to have been the performer, Kathryn failed of her purpose. The newcomer said dourly, “Hymns are a different matter, Missus, as any decent Christian creature should know. And I had already broken my fast.”
Well, thought Kathryn, I asked for it. Suddenly very thankful for the money in her reticule, Kathryn spoke with the poise of one who is paying his rent. “Are you the cook?”
“I am Elspeth Cameron, indeed, and I take care of the household while Mistress Bennet is absent. Which is most of the time,” added the cook, with what Kathryn perceived to be considerable relish. “She’s back and forth between the Manor and his lordship’s fine London dwelling. His lordship’s nurse, she was.”
Kathryn realized that she was no match for this battle-maid. Since she would have to live with the woman for several days, at least, until Bennet could get the portrait to the Manor and arrange to have Kathryn smuggled in, she had better keep the peace. She would also need help in bathing and dressing until her arm was completely healed. Kathryn took another look at the sour, disapproving face of Elspeth Cameron, and shivered. She simply couldn’t have those heavy hands on her body. She’d have to find a way to manage for herself. Perhaps—
“Is there a young girl in the neighborhood whom I can engage as a maid?”
The disapproving look deepened. “Is it an abigail you’ll be wanting, then, Missus? I doubt there’d be one in this vicinity would suit a fine leddy. Mostly they’re farmers’ daughters, more used to milkin’ and muckin’ out the barns than fussin’ with such stuff as that, yon,” and she jerked her head at the peignoir with a sniff.
“I see I shall have to find one myself,” Kathryn forced herself to speak calmly. “Thank you for coming up to waken me. I shall be down for my breakfast in half an hour.” She turned away and went to the wardrobe to find the clothing she had worn the previous day. After a minute she heard the door close.
It was all of half