Story: Veronica and Aunt Miranda. Chapter 6.

by Jackie J

Ronnie was surprised that her mother had not gone berserk seeing her precious prissy daughter uniformed, aproned and working as a maid. Even during the time her mother had been staying at Lowercroft - over a week now - she had said nothing! Like her aunt, who rarely if ever spoke to her now, why would she though? She was just a junior maid in this household, wasn’t she? Her mother had treated her no differently than her Mistress, with total indifference; in truth no different to her own maids back at Latchwood. That didn’t bother Ronnie. In fact it only served to reinforce her acceptance that she was just a maid, an indentured servant whose feeling of hopeless entrapment into a life of servitude to her betters was still as desirously poignant as when she signed her contract.  

Mrs Robison had told Ronnie that the house guest, Lady Singleton, wished to speak with her the following morning and with the evening meal having been served and her chores for the day completed Ronnie sat on her bunk. Would her mother let her stay at Lowercroft? Would she take her back to Latchwood to her life of privilege? Force her to marry one of those awful men? Were her days of being a maid over? Would she be trading her dour uniform for frills and bows?

With fires laid and lit, breakfast served and water heating for the laundry later that morning Ronnie was quite nervous about meeting Lady Singleton, her mother. She took a deep breath before opening the large doors into the parlour and stepped inside.



Her mother was not alone; her aunt had insisted that she would be present whilst her sister spoke with her daughter.

Ronnie approached the two seated ladies and lowered a curtsy of deference - something that was second nature to her now - and stood hands across her apron, head slightly lowered. She knew not to speak unless spoken to. It was ingrained within her. She remained silent whilst her mother and aunt viewed the maid stood before them.

Lady Singleton, Veronica’s mother, stared with open contempt. This maid had stolen her pretty daughter’s looks, her figure, her mannerisms. She had buried and hidden the very essence of her daughter within the folds of her drab uniform and behind this starched apron of service. Turned her beautiful daughter into no more than a dumpy, non-descript domestic drone. Strange thoughts but such feelings were becoming imbedded in the mind of Lady Singleton.

Miranda, Veronicas aunt, had a different prospective. Her niece had confided in her that she wished to be a maid and Miranda had facilitated her wishes. To her surprise the realities of a maid’s life had not dampened her enthusiasm for such strange desires. Indeed, as the weeks of servitude turned into months following her acceptance of indenture, her passive acquiescence to her subjugation, to a life of domestic drudgery and menial toil had only increased and now her niece was nothing more than a housemaid. She saw her as nothing else. This was what she wanted after all, wasn't it?   

Elizabeth could not hide her disdain for this wench who had taken her daughter. There was no mother-daughter love in her words.

“Stand straight girl. Don’t slouch.”

Ronnie pushed back her shoulders and looked past the two seated ladies, eye contact was not in the gift of a maid.

“So your Mistress tells me you are a good maid. A perfect maid, an ideal Miss Mop who enjoys the drudgery of domestic service, scrubbing and cleaning with no ambition above your status. Is that correct, girl?”

Ronnie was somewhat taken aback with the cold and forthright words of her mother. Was she endorsing, accepting what she had become? In that sentence she had summated all she was, all she wanted to be. Ronnie bobbed a curtsy before responding.

“Yes, Miss.”

Ronnie’s answer only served to incense Elizabeth further. This maid was mocking her, taunting her with this dominance and possession of her English rose that she had beguiled, seduced and entrapped within her. Her beautiful daughter was in there held hostage, she had to free her from the clutches of this dowdy simpering slut of a maid. But how, how? Veronica was in there alright, passive and accepting, no doubt convinced by this abomination she could return at will to the life she had. Perhaps there laid the key to Veronica’s resurrection: dispel this deceitful deception, expose the reality to the potential permanence to her entrapment, to the life of a maid. Elizabeth’s eyes widened, recounting what Miranda had told her about what had been the catalyst for her daughter’s stupidity. Yes, that is what she would do. Maid Ronnie needs to see the opposite side to this coin.

Elizabeth turned to Miranda.

“I have heard enough from this wretch. Dismiss her and send her back to her duties.”

Miranda was surprised by both Ronnie and her sister. Veronica’s mother had succinctly lain bare what she had become and Ronnie without reservation or comment had meekly accepted and endorsed such a scathing depiction punctuated by a formal curtsy. Rather than challenging her daughter or Veronica herself offering any explanation to her mother Ronnie had lowered her gaze and Elizabeth without further discourse was dismissing Ronnie back to work.  

“Off you go girl. I am sure you have much to do.”

Ronnie dropped another curtsy. 

“Yes Mistress.”

With Ronnie having left Miranda turned to Elizabeth.

“I did not expect that. Is that it? I thought you would have had more to say than that.”

Elizabeth sat back in the comfort of her chair.

“I cannot talk any sense to her but I have an idea. You told me when I arrived about this maid Jane who Veronica had become infatuated with that. How she envied her, the uniform she wore, how she wanted to change places with her to become a maid. That these thoughts were behind all this nonsense. Where is this Jane now, Miranda?”

Miranda looked questioningly at her sister. 

“Jane? Well she left to nurse her grandmother. Her parents are both deceased and she has no siblings, no other family to care for other than her grandmother. I guess she is still there. Why do you ask?”

Elizabeth smirked.

“No family you say? Perfect. I have an idea to end this masquerade, to put an end to this nonsense once and for all and bring my wayward daughter back to reality. Amusing as it may be for you I am sure you would not wish Veronica to remain like this. And seeing that you have been quite complicit in my daughters demise I would seek your help. I wish to speak with this girl and ask that you arrange that for me.”

Miranda shrugged her shoulders.

“I cannot see what good it will do but I will make the arrangements.”

Jane’s grandmother had died three months after she had left Lowercroft and Jane had not returned to domestic service. She had secured a position at a high-end drapers in the town. She had worked in domestic service since she was fifteen and at twenty two wanted for something better. She had always read well and self educated, encouraged by her grandmother, and was most suitable for the position she had secured.

Jane was quite excited when she was told that Lady Singleton wanted to meet her. She was serving many wealthy clients now but never a true Lady. Lady Singleton had been introduced by her ex-Mistress at Lowercroft and Jane made a special effort with her appearance on the morning of the visit.

If Jane had been surprised that a Lady would be visiting the emporium at which she worked she was left in a state of shock and speechless when that Lady had left.

Elizabeth had a loathing for the working class and everything associated with it. Scruffy workshy layabouts one and all. Any preconceptions concerning the girl she was to meet were quickly dispelled. Fine features, a confident poise, a pleasing smile, a soft voice and lovely hair. The fine dress she wore so well, a fine advertisement for the establishment.

Jane had no reason to doubt the sincerity of Lady Singleton. Why would she? Mrs Shipley, her ex Mistress had recommended Jane to be a companion to Lady Singleton and she was here to make the offer and confirm her suitability. All was not as it seemed with this pretty Miss which only made her more perfect for what Elizabeth had in mind. 

Elizabeth listened intently and somewhat astonished whilst Jane sat in the comfort of the back parlour sipping tea and talking about her heritage, this in part explaining her fine features. Her mother, who died in child birth, was of Russian decent and distantly related to the Romanovs. Her father, a diplomat, had turned to gambling and drink when his world collapsed at the death of his beautiful wife and eventually took his own life. Jane had been raised by her grandmother, her only relative, and had no choice but to enter domestic service at the age of fifteen. Retained and indentured to Mrs Shipley at Lowercroft she stayed at Lowercroft for seven years. Elizabeth smiled when Jane’s mother’s maiden name rolled off her tongue so eloquently: Dolgorukov. Jane’s christened name was Jekaterina, but her grandmother thought it best to use a more common name and for as long as she could remember she had. Elizabeth was impressed, Jekaterina Dolgrukov, a companion to Lady Singleton. Just perfect.

The owner of the emporium was placated with the patronage of a Lady in the form of a significant order from Lady Singleton for dresses and gowns. Each item to be purchased being in the same design and materials to mirror her daughter's discarded wardrobe.

Elizabeth extended her stay at Lowercroft for further week whilst Longshire’s seamstresses worked through the nights to prepare Miss Jekaterina Dolgrukov's tout ensemble until Lady Singletons’ new companion's wardrobe was complete.

Jane sat in her lodgings waiting for the carriage to collect her, looking around her meagre abode for the last time. She chuckled to herself. She couldn’t wait to see what had become of the sophisticated young Lady who had visited Lowercroft whilst she had been a maid there. To think that all the time whilst she had been at her work that elegant pampered Miss had actually coveted her, yearned to be her, to trade places with her, to wear her drab uniform of service, for herself to be aproned and indentured to scrub clean and obediently serve a mistress. That same pretty thing was now and had been for many months, in domestic service at Lowercroft as an indentured maid.

Sat in the parlour Miranda stared at her ex-maid Jane, Miss Jekaterina Dolgrukov. She looked so different wearing her beautiful fine dress, her hair much longer now exhibiting its natural subtle tones. The way she sat everything was so different about her. Lowercroft was very much the same as when Jekaterina was a maid here and she was most impressed that her high standards with regards to cleanliness had been maintained by the new maid. Sat as equals with her ex Mistress Mrs Shipley and Lady Singleton felt strange but she was looking forward to it not being so. Jekaterina had been well briefed by Lady Singleton on how she was to behave and it took all her resolve when Ronnie entered the room to serve tea to her Mistress and guests to suppress a giggle. Her short hair was dyed black, no doubt the work of Betsy and she was now dumpy and chubby, even her posture was different. That beautiful lithe young girl with the flowing blonde hair she remembered could not look any different as she stood meekly with accomplished deference in her maid's uniform.

Ronnie curtsied and laid out the china cups and saucers avoiding eye contact as protocol demanded then poured, the tea perfectly served. With her empty tray in hand Ronnie stood back and curtsied, then, unavoidably catching Jekaterina’s eye, she froze staring at the girl sat in her beautiful pale blue dress smiling at her. It couldn’t be, could it? She looked so different, her lovely hair about her shoulders the way she was sat so comfortably with her Mistress and Lady Singleton, her mother. The dress she was wearing, pale blue like one of her own favourites with the delicate satin trim and broad waist bow. The bangle on her wrist and the necklace were hers, she had given them to her aunt for safe keeping when she arrived.

Elizabeth smirked seeing her daughter’s reaction.

“What is it girl? How dare you stare like that? Apologise this minute!”

Ronnie was flustered. What was going on? This girl, it was Jane the maid, the maid who had left. What was she doing here and dressed like she was? She looked so... A weakening shudder ran through her, the same erotic weakening ripples of capitulating emotions that she felt the first time she dressed in her uniform, when she had read through the conditions of the indenture, when she placed her signature on that very document. It was all too much and with a weak sigh Ronnie’s eyes rolled and she fainted. Jekaterina was quick to her feet and caught the collapsing maid before she fell to the floor.

Carried to her quarters having laid her on her bunk Betsy gave the poor maid a calming concoction.

When Ronnie awoke, still groggy from Betsy’s brew, she was laid on her bunk in her quarters. The elegant girl she had served along with her mother and aunt in the parlour stood close smiling down on her the sweet scent of expensive perfume about her. Like the fine dress she wore and jewellery the perfume no less familiar, all once her own! 

“Well well, girl. Quite a shock seeing me? Your mother and aunt, sorry - Lady Singleton and your Mistress - have told me all about your wish to be a maid to reverse roles with me. All those times you visited your aunt in your pretty dresses, one very much like this one that I now wear I recall, you were watching me, secretly wishing to be me, to wear my cheap coarse underwear and uniform, to be aproned, to serve a mistress. Strange desires indeed, but what an accomplished little skivvy you have become! A perfect maid I am told. So why am I here wearing the same pretty dress, your jewellery and even the very same exquisite perfume that you once wore? It seems you have told Lady Singleton that you enjoy being a little Miss Mop, content with the drudgery of domestic service scrubbing and cleaning with no ambition above your status. You will understand that she misses her daughter and has chosen me to be her companion to share the privileges once enjoyed by Veronica. We leave this afternoon for Latchwood and I am rather excited to see my new home." 

Ronnie’s eyes were wide and she tried to sit up only to be eased back down onto her hard pillow by a firm manicured hand.

"Relax girl. You are staying here at Lowercroft to serve your Mistress just like you wanted.”

Jekaterina reached into her purse. 

“I thought your Mistress may not have given you one of these yet, understandable under the circumstances but don’t worry I kept mine, the one I received when I accepted my indenture. With you having taken my place here its only right that you should have it now. Not quite as ornate as this lovely necklace I wear but they both say a lot about the wearer.”

The latch snapped closed on the bronze band now secured loosely around Ronnie's neck.

“For your security and safety girl, your Mistresses name and address are embossed on the collar. A sign of indenture. Should you find yourself away from Lowercroft the authorities will know where to return you. Your Mistress holds the key, should this ever need to be removed but that won’t be for a long time, will it girl? You have become a maid and a maid you are going to remain."

Ronnie felt weak, helpless, powerless. This girl, once a maid, was taking over her life like she had taken over hers. She looked so pretty, so confident. And to seal their transformations she now wore Jane’s collar of indenture.

Jekaterina stroked her fingers down Ronnie’s cheek and chuckled.

“Who knows, in a couple of years when I have had time to endear myself to Lady Singleton, Elizabeth, which trust me I certainly will, help her to forget the daughter who chose to become a maid I may bring you down to Latchwood to be my personal maid. I think you would like that, wouldn’t you, girl? Yes, of course you would. I see it in your eyes.”

Ronnie looked weakly up into the smiling eyes of Jekaterina,  who used to be maid Jane she wanted to be, and placed her roughened hand over Jekaterina’s and whispered wantonly.

“Yes, Miss.” 

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