Chapters 22-24 The Blessing of Marriage

“AND THAT’S AN ORDER FROM THE MASTER!” Richard Fitzwilliam bellowed at the sniveling butler of Rosings who wisely, and apologetically bowed and slowly backed away. Alone in the refashioned study, removed of all traces of the medieval stylings preferred by his predecessor, Richard looked around for something, anything, to throw. Sadly bereft of any object of no consequence, he settled for slamming the chair into the worn wooden desk, yet another item in this run-down estate on his list for replacement.

The study door opened and the thin figure of his wife and dearest friend slipped in with a look of grave concern.

“Mother has caused problems again?”

Richard sighed and offered his hand to assist Anne to the pale green settee moved in from the drawing room. “No sooner do I give a direction that she moves to undo it. Why are the staff so thick as to think she still rules this house?”

“Give them time, Mother has ruled with an iron fist for many decades, and even when my father was alive, he never challenged much to do with her domain.”

“Who ran the ledger? Darcy must have explained how her habits bled the coffers dry?” Richard thought specifically of how he had just curtailed the budget for wine and Lady Catherine signed the invoice for yet another dozen crates of merlot.

Anne shrugged her shoulders and grimaced.

“My dear, we’ve spoken of this, cough if you need to, it clears your lungs.”

Anne complied with a nasty hack and swift movement of her handkerchief to her mouth to catch the wet contents. Gasping for breath, she flattened her left palm against her sternum.

“Easy, easy, the breathing will come easier.” Richard coaxed his wife down from her attack, scolding himself for upsetting her.

In time, Anne began to feel normal again and asked for a cup of tea. Richard pulled the bell cord without delay, and then returned to tending his wife. A servant entered and accepted the request without argument.

“Forgive me for troubling you, I know better than to burden you with these matters.”

Anne shook her head. “You promised to not treat me as the others do, and I have promised to listen to Doctor Matthews.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam beamed at her husband. The last few weeks she had greatly enjoyed free roam of her home and a release of the burden of her father’s secrets. The last desire of Anne Fitzwilliam was a return to the strictures imposed by her mother for reasons of her health. “If you must banish me to bed rest, I insist you prescribe the same medicine for yourself.” Anne pursed her lips into an impish pucker as she watched her husband’s face color.

“I have retired the Regimentals, but this soldier will still carry you off, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, for great debauchery.”

“Mmm, is that another promise, Richard?” She giggled as her husband leaned forward to lay kisses on her delicate jawline as she turned and pretended to resist his advances. A sharp knock on the door interrupted their tryst.

“Enter.”

A maid carried in a tray and Richard lifted himself from the settee, before he was in no proper state to do so, to handle the refreshments. Yes, he had just been reminded to not coddle his wife, his loving, passionate wife, but no matter what she desired, it did not change that she was of a delicate condition. He instantly noticed only one pot held tea leaves while the other merely hot water with slices of lemon.

“What is the meaning of this? I specifically requested tea for both myself and Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”

The young maid did not look up as she answered with a small curtsy. “Her ladyship has said that Miss Anne, forgive me, Mrs. Fitzwilliam may not indulge in tea during the daylight hours per instruction from Doctor Smeads.”

“And I say that my wife may indulge in any foods or beverages she may fancy at any time of day, am I making myself clear?” Richard had to grind his teeth to keep his anger from his meddling mother-in-law spilling out against the poor maid.

“Yes, sir.” The young maid curtsied again, still not looking up.

Richard did not dismiss the maid as he poured his own pot of tea for his wife’s comfort. “What is your name?”

The maid finally looked up with her lip quivering. “Julia—Julia White, sir.”

“And what is your role here? A housemaid?”

The young girl nodded, trying to remain brave. Julia White was only recently hired on to the house that past spring from the employment fair. She had worked hard to stay out of trouble the other young maids found around them, fraternizing with the footmen or sneaking spirits. As a result, she had yet to make friends in the great house and routinely felt confused at the seemingly contradictory orders issued on a daily basis.

“Yes, sir, I’ve not yet been employed here for two months.”

“Consider yourself promoted.” Richard tenderly placed the cup of tea made just for his wife’s preferences before her, catching her eye for approval. Anne bit back a smile and nodded.

“Promoted? Sir?” Julia wore a look fraught with worry. To receive a new position over the girls who had been there longer would not make life easier in the servant’s quarters.

“Indeed. Mrs. Fitzwilliam is in need of a personal maid. You will assist her during coughing fits and see that whatever she needs is delivered without delay. Should any other servants give you trouble, including your superiors, you shall do whatever you deem necessary to fulfill your duties to Mrs. Fitzwilliam at that moment, and then seek me out afterwards. Am I clear?”

Julia shook her head. “I cannot perform the duties of a ladies’ maid, begging your pardon, sir. I have not yet been taught.”

“Did I say you would be her ladies’ maid? No, recruit, consider yourself charged with her well-being.” Richard marched forward, closer to the maid, to give her mettle a more thorough inspection. The young woman stood straighter as her employer neared her person and in her eyes, Richard recognized the hunger of a person bent on proving themselves. Years of training England’s finest had taught him the difference between those signed up for duty out of obligation and those signed up with pride to perform. This maid possessed the later whether she recognized it or not.

“Can you tend to my wife on a daily basis, from sun up to when she retires, without allowing another to hamper your efforts?”

Julia gulped but faced her employer with a courageous expression. “Yes, sir. And if any thwart my efforts, I am to report to you as soon as I am able.”

“Correct. I want you to look at that woman sitting on the settee. You may not know this, but there is no greater treasure in this household to me than she. I am entrusting you with the greatest role and expecting you to rise to the task. If you falter, I shall replace you with another and there will not be another position for you here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now Julia, please see to Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s comfort while I return this tray to the kitchens and have a word with Cook.”

“Richard! You cannot carry the tray yourself!” Anne called out as she beckoned the young maid to come further into the room so she might have her own conversation with her newly assigned caretaker.

Richard lifted the tray and raised his eyes at his wife. “I shall carry the tray and throw it if necessary. The staff is finished with serving two masters, and it is I who shall triumph over Catherine.”

Anne covered her mouth at the ridiculousness of her strong, manly husband opening the study door and carrying the tea tray in a superb posture to rival a practiced servant. Realizing her interview with her husband was indeed over, Anne turned her attentions to the young Julia shifting her weight from foot-to-foot.

“Can you read, Julia?”

“Yes, ma’am. I had hopes to be a school teacher in Lydd, but it was not to be. Would you like for me to read to you? Would that provide you comfort?”

“Yes, I prefer novels. Come. We shall visit the library and then retire to my apartments. And we shall see if some of my old gowns will fit you. If you are to be taking on the position of my protector and caretaker when Richard is unavailable, let’s have you look the part.”

Anne reached out for the young maid to assist her up and Julia scrambled to understand the dramatically new course her own life had just taken in less than a quarter hour. Following her mistress down the long corridor to the library, she counted her many blessings that were appearing to avalanche all at once. For a brief moment, Julia White forgot all about her troubles of being late to come into service and possessing no friends amongst the staff. The days ahead held the promise of a new job, one she was most eager to take on even if it was only the result of luck in volunteering to take a tea tray to the study.