In Victorian England slums, the oldest and quietest girl of four trying to keep a roof over her family's head accepts a job with an odd staff and mysterious employer. Until she finds out all the maids before her are dead and she must face a mystifyi...
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"Mrs. Hall?" I said walking in the kitchen where the cook stood talking to her.
"The uniform seems to fit you well," Mrs. Hall stepped around me to examine the fit of the uniform.
"I believe so," I did not argue the close fit though in truth my arms would be thankful in a looser uniform.
"Gertie this is Miss Alice Stewart, our new house maid," Mrs. Hall said to the cook she called Gertie.
"Another young little thing? I tell you these girls will not do for the master; if Becca hadn't passed away we needn't keep hiring these girls."
Gertie took one glance at me before letting on how disappointed she was with the choice but I took it as her mourning her close friend and took no offense at her first slight. Yet it alarmed me the fact there had been more than one maid who quit this job, what was so dreadful to make them quit? No, I forbade my mind to imagine bad things as I did not like to give into an active imagination for I did not own one.
A man probably around his early fifties walked in the kitchen talking leisurely to Mrs. Hall.
"Mrs. Hall the master asked me to tell you he is going to take his bath before the supper is brought up," the man said without acknowledging the new maid standing in the room; me.
"Thank you Mr. Eugene," Mrs. Hall nodded her head slightly and Mr. Eugene walked so slowly down the hall it looked as if he would never make it up the stairs with the heavy languor he went on about.
"Miss Stewart you can do the fireplace in the master's room while he bathes then come down to get his supper."
"Uh..." I paused giving Mrs. Hall time to get the orders right, if anyone was to serve the master directly it would be his valet, not a house maid, never a house maid.
"Look at her face, you should let me do the hiring next time, I know a tough one when I see one just like our Becca," Gertie complained.
"Things work differently around here Miss Stewart, which is what you will be called while working here. The master rather's things a certain way, so if you will follow along you will soon know everything there is to know about your position here, things here are not so cut and dry as in other households. Our master happens to be I guess, an individualist, and I have no doubt that you will do your best," Mrs. Hall explained as Gertie scoffed a laugh at me rolling her eyes.
"Yes Mrs. Hall," I saw the logs stacked near the back door and followed the orders by going up the stairs to find the master's room.
"Be quick child he will not want to see you in here when he gets back."
Mr. Eugene, the valet scolded me with his mouse like voice holding a robe for the master and I entered the bedroom after him containing my anxiety at his command to be efficient as if I were suddenly a child who knew nothing.
The bedroom was a poor sight to behold, it was dark, drowning in all sorts of things even throughout the floor, books on top of tables, sad scribbled papers hung on the walls, the bed unmade. Though it was the trail of a proper black outfit thrown on the floor that flustered me deeply, Mr. Eugene would not have possibly left the master's clothes in such a way would he? Or worse had the master undressed himself without anyone's help?
