The Lady's Maid's Secret

The Secret Diary: Part 1

Dear Reader,

I have always considered myself of honest character and it is not just conceit that says so.

I come to Lady Pendrick's with impeccable credentials from my previous employer Lady Lesaint, whom it must be said was very understanding of my desire to further my career after I arranged to furnish proof of her husband's infidelity (not to mention on-going harassment of the chambermaids).

I suppose I should introduce myself properly. My name is Rose Reed, an orphan of meagre fortune but an abundance of ambition. I know in my heart of hearts that I am destined for more than a life in service, although for now, any movement up the ladder is a step in the right direction.

My new post, I was assured, would suit me well, a lady's maid to Lady Pendrick a mature widow with no amorous husband.

On my arrival I was surprised that this old renowned dame is suffering in genteel poverty with only half a dozen servants to attend to her ladyship.

There is Beatrice, the housekeeper and cook, her husband Arthur who is both butler and gardener, and then there is Evan, the rather handsome footman who has also taken on the duty of groomsman and driver. Evan has an equally pleasant sister, Felicity who is maid-of-all-work.

The six of us ramble about the large townhouse, making do with two-and-a-half floors while the remaining one and a half are filled with furniture and ornaments which her ladyship has decided she will not miss, and which can be discreetly sold without any affront to appearances and reputation.

Did I mention Dear Reader, that I have found myself in a situation where penury is its true mistress?

I would have left at the soonest opportunity had I not been quick to ken how much the rest of the servants loved their mistress and their kindness towards myself.

While I was familiarising myself with the house and helping Beatrice and Arthur to itemise items for sale when I happened to find myself in an upper floor maid's room, which had long fallen to disuse. I was told by Felicity that it had belonged to Lady Pendrick's lady's maid who had passed away at a venerable old age, just the summer past.

For want anything better to do (Lady Pendrick sleeps extensively during the afternoon), and a curiosity which I have been warned is my biggest failing, I examined the trunk thoroughly.

Inside was a maid's uniform and beneath it several thin volumes. A quick leaf through tell me they are diaries dating back decades.

I open up the first to hand, which would looked newer than the rest. In a neat cursive hand, the inside front cover reads:

The diary of Mary Kirkpatrick, lady's maid to Margaret, Lady Pendrick.

One usually demurs from reading another's diary, but I am not such a one – although that should be a confidence we should keep between ourselves, Dear Reader.

A Lady's Maid is in a unique position within a household. She is to be organised and clever. She has her mistress' confidence. And she is to be observant and offer her lady such bits of gossip that might prove to be of her advantage.

I had only intended to skim though the journals, expecting nothing more than the dull recitation of the ebb-and-flow of daily life, but I could not be more mistaken. Mary Fitzpatrick was of a shrewd mind and a devastating wit.

I spent the entire afternoon in that dusty old room until the light was too poor to read, but I did not mind, the contents were illuminating enough...

Mary, the maid, was most scathing in her private thoughts of a certain ambitious widow who claimed a friendship with Lady Pendrick. This woman, Eliza Badgely, it seemed was a notorious cheat at cards and outlines a party one night when the lady brazenly cheated her hostess out of one hundred guineas!

What was I to make of this, Dear Reader, now this Madam Badgely is a Baroness, having inveigled herself into such an advantageous match while my mistress is destitute.

I made my feelings on the subject known when I joined the servants downstairs for supper.

Beatrice, who is very protective of my lady, was rightly aghast at this adventuress.

"It hardly seems right," I said, "that such a woman profit from our employer's trusting nature."

Everyone at the table agreed.

The topic may have come to an end at that very moment, had I not taken inspiration from Mary Fitzpatrick's diaries. For the more I read, the more I knew about the inner machinations of the circle of acquaintances that had left my new mistress destitute.

"Perhaps there is something we can do," I ventured. "What if our mistress could win back the amount with interest?"

Everyone at the servant's table fell silent. They all stared at me in silence – Evan with his devilishly handsome face regarded me carefully; pretty Felicity, her brown eyes wide looked to her brother for guidance; Beatrice's kindly face was furrowed, but it was her husband Arthur who broke the silence.

"Why that amount of money would fix the slate on the roof!" he said, nearly at a bellow.

"I venture you would not have raised the matter, if you had not considered a remedy," said Evan who immediately proved himself to be shrewd as well as good looking.

"I have given it some thought," I replied, and yes, there may have been a flirtatious smile on my lips, which was returned.

But no, there will be time for romance later on. For now I needed the involvement of all my fellow servants for a plan to be successful.

"I believe turnabout is fair play," I said. "Eliza Badgley can afford to be taken down a peg or two and can afford to pay for past misdeeds, but for this enterprise to be a success, we need to know everything this is to know about the new Baroness."

"You're suggesting blackmail," said Evan, who didn't look at all displeased by the idea.

"Just a little persuasion to see justice done," said I. "And, according to the diaries, there are more who deserve reminding how much they owe Lady Pendrick.

"For our scheme to work, we need to arrange a dinner party for eight. Do you think Lady Pendrick would be agreeable to hosting a small soiree with all of her oldest and dearest friends?"

The end of part one.

Next edition: A dinner party has a surprise entertainment on offer. And a certain Baroness is fleeced.