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She poured the water back into the cans, spilling a little on the floor, and hung up the dress, terrified all the time that he would return.
When she got back to the kitchen, she found the others had gone to bed. She emptied the water away and went into the communal bedroom.
There was a candle burning. She saw James and Margery clasped in each other’s arms; Poll was crooning over her. doll; Jin was snoring slightly.
Esther was awake though. She whispered: “What a long time you’ve been!”
Carolan answered quite steadily: “I had to put her clothes away.”
“I’m glad you’ve come back; I was frightened.”
“You are too easily frightened.”
“I know, Carolan, I know! I wish I were brave like you.”
“Well, get to sleep now. Good night.”
Brave! That was fu
How I would love to put it about his shoulders! she thought, and hated him afresh. Cold eyes that betrayed no emotion. How I should love to make him suffer!
She thought suddenly of Marcus, of warm, friendly, passionate eyes.
Oh, Marcus! Marcus! I want you. Of course it’s you I want.
“Carolan, what is wrong?” Esther was anxious. This morning when Margery had called to them to get up, Carolan had been so fast asleep that Esther had had to shake her to awaken her, and when Carolan did wake, her eyes were dark-ringed with sleeplessness.
“Wrong?” cried Carolan irritably.
“What should be wrong? Just everything… that is all! Do you enjoy this life of slavery?”
“But Carolan, today there is something more wrong than usual. Will you not confide in me?”
“Oh, Esther, how foolish you are! Nothing is any worse today than it was before. How could it be, when before it was as bad as possible?”
They stood at the sink, peeling potatoes. The dirty water ran up Carolan’s arms. Every time the kitchen door opened, she trembled with fear.
He would spring suddenly, she was sure. He would not come into the kitchen himself. Perhaps one of the roughest of his men would be sent to take her to the yard. They would tie her hands and feet to the triangle. He would not be there; he would not even bother to look on. There was no fire in him: he would coldly, calculatingly mete out what he considered justice. Crime Using mistress’s bath water, dressing up in mistress’s clothes. Punishment Fifty lashes. She imagined his keeping a little notebook, and writing such things in it. I would rather Jonathan Crew, she thought, than this cold, inhuman creature.
The morning wore on.
Margery said: “Are you in love, me lady? You’re as droopy as a sleep walker.”
“In love!” said Carolan, hatred shining in her eyes.
“Ha! Ha! In hate, eh?” said Margery, observant, shrewd.
“Not in love? Has one of the men been disrespectful to your little ladyship? Is that what makes you look so fierce?”
“I am not looking fierce. Why ca
“Tut-tut! Give yourself airs with the men if you must, but not with Margery. Don’t forget there’s the whip over the mantel, put into me hands by Mr. Masterman himself.”
The whip! Mr. Masterman! Try as she might, she could not keep her lips from trembling.
“Come over here and watch the meat. Jin’ll finish them taties. Go on, Jin! And don’t you give me none of your sullen looks, me girl, or it will be the whip for you as sure as I’m Margery Green.”
Real sparks of anger were in her eyes now. She would show the girl that she could not cast those eyes of hers on Margery’s men. James had been mealy-mouthed enough last night.
“Why, look ye, Margy, d’ye think I want to take up with silly bits of gipsies! Not when I can get a bit of all right like you, girl!” Ready as you like, it came, and when a man’s tongue was so ready, could you trust him?
Margery’s fingers itched for the whip. She would have liked to lay it across the girl’s face. Very pretty she would look with a weal across her gipsy face! But Mr. Masterman would want to know what had happened, if Jin served at table with a face like that. Margery was afraid of Mr. Masterman. Queer, cold man, he was, so that you all but forgot he was a man. Fu
“Bah!” muttered Margery, contemptuous yet with a certain awe, ‘he’s only half a man!”
She let her hand rest on Carolan’s shoulder as the girl watched the spit. Lovely skin, like peaches warmed and touched with the sun. She had been washing her hair under the pump this morning, and the sun played about it, loving it you might say, making it more beautiful because it loved it so much.
In love? With which one? James, Tom, Charley? No! Don’t make me laugh; her haughty nose would go up in the air at the thought of any of them.
The kitchen door opened. Margery saw the girl’s face whiten. This was very strange; something was afoot… what? She sat very still her eyes downcast. Margery had never seen her so pale. Her eyelashes were incredibly long, and her pallor, oddly enough, make them look longer. They were tipped with reddish-brown. She was a beauty!
It was James at the door.
“Hot coffee at once! With biscuits. The lady has a visitor.”
Margery got up, grumbling.
“Morning visitors, I hates ‘em. Why does people have visitors in the mornings! All right, all right! Come on, you. You can help me. Not you, Jin … you get on with them taties, and keep your eye on the spit at the same time, will you?”
James went out. Margery touched Carolan’s arm.
“Look here, me girl. You can take their coffee up to ‘em. It ain’t often servants is allowed the run of the house, but you ain’t like the rest, see? It’s fu
“Oh … Margery …” Carolan caught the woman’s arm. She had great difficulty in keeping the teats back.
“Here! Here!” said Margery, herself moved unaccountably. She wished she was a man so that she could love the girl physically; Margery played with the idea while she made the coffee. It fascinated her.
“Now up you goes with it! Mrs. Masterman and her lady friend in the drawing-room. Steady, girl! For God’s sake don’t drop the tray, or it’ll be the last one you’ll carry into Mrs. Masterman’s drawing-room, I’m warning you. Now don’t be shy. Wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Masterman asked for you to wait at table. You’re a lot nicer to look at than that saucy Jin … Gipsies is dirty things, no mistake! Go on with you. Here’s the biscuit barrel. I’ll come up with you and knock. Ready?”
They mounted the stairs. Would he be there? wondered Carolan.
Margery knocked at the door of the drawing-room.
“Come in!” said Mrs. Masterman.
Margery pushed open the door, and Carolan went in. Mrs. Masterman was lying back in her chair, looking wan. She wore a fleecy jacket that made her look like an invalid.
Margery said from the door in a hoarse whisper: “Better pour it out for ‘em.”
Carolan, relieved that Mr. Masterman was not present, put down the tray and started to pour out.
“Bring it over here,” said Mrs. Masterman, and Carolan, her hands steady, carried over the tray. They helped themselves to brown sugar. There seemed to Carolan something slightly familiar about the dark-haired visitor.
The visitor said: “You seem to be well served, Mrs. Masterman. I must say I have the most shocking trouble with my servants.”
“Gu
“Ah… yes. That is it. When you have a man to arrange your affairs …” Dark eyes studied Carolan appraisingly.
“I always think it is such a pity, when I see these young criminals.”