Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 6-7.

by Jackie J

Chapter 6

A lathered steaming horse, with its saddle removed, edged into its stall and a long- cloaked figure headed into the rear entrance of Clegg Hall. Breathless from a hard five- mile ride Abigail stripped off her boots, jacket and jodhpurs and thrust herself under the sheets of her bed. She knew Caroline was at Longwater, she just knew she was. Having grown up with Caroline and spent many days at Longwater she knew the manor intimately, every entrance and passage. Games of hide and seek with Caroline, over their younger years, leaving little of Longwater manor unexplored.

The adrenalin, that had driven her back to Clegg Hall, dissipating in her system Abigail laid on her bed staring up at the ceiling, her eyes filled with questioning worry. What to do, who to tell? What was she doing, is doing? Bella? Bella, that was Caroline and no mistake. Her hair was short, very short and wearing a maid’s uniform? she was scrubbing the hallway, actually down on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor?  And that other maid, shouting at her? Caroline’s voice, squeaky and the way she spoke? Oh, my goodness, what has happened to her? Abigail could not help but nervously chuckle to herself. Caroline Drake of all people, a maid? She should have done something, said something, but what? 

Having found her way unseen to Caroline’s rooms, hoping to find her there, she had heard a raised voice on the ground floor. Creeping to the end of the landing and stood at the top of the stairs she had peered down and that is when she saw what she had. Abigail had stood transfixed by the spectacle below, Caroline Drake in a maid’s uniform, a Longwater manor maid’s uniform, scrubbing the hallway tiles being berated, and called Bella, by a common maid. Begging the maid in a strange squeaky voice not to tell Mrs Dillon, her own housekeeper, that she had tipped her bucket? Hearing more voices, and fearful of being discovered, Abigail had hidden and waited for what seemed an age before climbing back out of the window through which she had entered Longwater. Confused, angry, perplexed it was now dark and Abigail having walked her horse stealthily through the back bushes jumped on its back and rode like the wind into the night.

It was a restless sleepless night for Abigail, she could not get the image of her friend out of her thoughts. There seemed no pretence in what she had witnessed, that maid was bullying her, one of her own maids. Caroline seemed to have had genuine fear in her voice begging the maid not to tell on her. Her voice like a stutter but not a stutter and squeaky? The maid had called her Bella, stupid Bella, and Caroline had done nothing just kept scrubbing, scrubbing the hallway tiles? Abigail turned on her pillow what was she going to do? Caroline had always been dismissive and derisory about her maids, why would she do this, and her hair? Her lovely long golden hair? Abigail had been away with her Parents for months, how long had this been going on?

Abigail thought of that woman, Prentice. She must have something to do with this, be behind this. Caroline would not do this to herself, of her own volition, she just wouldn’t, would she?

Abigail, eyes wide, sat up on her pillows considering the unthinkable.

Why would she? Would she? No surely not. Abigail chuckled to herself again. Perverse, perverse in the extreme but what if she had? Had agreed to secretly be a maid in her own home, to be a maid for her own housekeeper whilst her Stepmother was away travelling? Caroline could be a bit weird at times, and intense, but this? That would explain having the maid scold her like she had, she probably spilt that pail on purpose. Therapy, therapy of sorts the Prentice woman had said, no wonder that woman would not let me see her. That voice, that was good, sounded just like a common uneducated maid. Caroline, what a performance, you naughty, naughty girl. Well, your secret is no longer a secret is it. Miss Caroline Drake a maid, how exquisite.

The more Abigail thought at what her friend had done to herself, what she thought she had done to herself, made her giggle. Caroline wanting to masquerade being a maid was much more palatable than the alternative, an alternative that Abigail had conveniently dismissed, put to the back of her mind.  Why she would do such a thing, who could know? Caroline could be quite irrational at times but from what Abigail had seen it was rather extreme even for Caroline.

There was something strangely erotic about her friend secretly being a maid, wanting to be a maid. Eventually drifting into sleep Abigail imagined Miss Caroline Drake, Bella as she called herself, curtsying and serving her, being ever so humble. Little did she know, her friend, having been mercilessly indoctrinated into servitude by Miss Prentice, already had done just that.

Caroline, the more privileged and wealthier of the two friends and a year older had always been the leader. Abigail had not lived in the shadow of Caroline, far from it, they both shared the same arrogant self -entitlement of their class, but Abigail’s admiration for Caroline was tinged with a degree of jealousy. Knowing, what she assumed to be a secret fantasy of her friend, Abigail pondered the advantages that could bring.

Sat for breakfast the following morning Abigail took a little more notice of the maids serving her family at table.

Her mother noticed a strange smile on her daughter’s face and how she was distracted.

“Abigail, what is it dear, you seem rather amused, a penny for your thoughts.”

Abigail was bursting to tell her mother about the previous evening but how could she, would she even believe her? Having absolutely convinced herself it was all Caroline’s dark secret, it was a secret she chose not to share, not yet anyway.

“It’s nothing Mother, nothing really, I am going to see Caroline again today, I hope you don’t mind.”

Abigail had to go back to Longwater, the thought of seeing her friend being a maid again was irresistible she had to find out what was going on. She could sneak in again, if she went through the back fields, no one would see her arriving. She would leave Betsy in the back barns, no one would know.

Abigail’s father put down his paper and stood from the table.

“Your mother and I will be travelling down to Windsor this afternoon for the race meeting this weekend. We have two horses running you should come with us Abigail. If she promises to behave you can bring Caroline if you wish.”

Abigail was no enthusiast for horse racing thinking it rather cruel.

“Father you know how I feel about those poor horses, you two go I will be fine.”

Abigail left the table to go and change and her mother glared at her husband.

“Why, why do you encourage that friendship with the Drake girl she is obnoxious. Inviting her to join us at Windsor, what were you thinking?  We took Abigail to France with us to get her away from that spoiled little madame. I have seen a change in Abigail these last few months without that girl’s influence. We have made good progress with Abigail I was at my wits end with her she was becoming just like the Drake girl.  I pity Lady Drake, I always have, having to put up with her tantrums and attitude, since Malcolm’s passing, she has got worse. If I had my way, well, I do not know what, but I certainly would not put up with it, I just wouldn’t, that girl needs putting in her place and I am not having my Abigail going back to those wild ways. “

“You Know that the conceited little witch refused to accompany Lady Drake overseas to reconcile Malcom’s business affairs. That could have put some sense into the girl, see how the money she freely squanders without care is actually made. Heaven knows what she will have been up to whilst Gwendoline has been away, I shudder to think, I really do.”

Sir James shrugged his shoulders.

“Mary my beloved, Abigail is eighteen this year, a grown woman, she will be married soon she will have no time for Caroline then you will see. You are right of course; Abigail has been much more respectful recently. I blame Lord Drake, Malcom, the way he spoiled her, it wasn’t fair on Gwendoline, he should have been more forceful with his daughter. Discipline, that what the girl needed and indeed still needs, there is not an ounce of humility in her.”

Out in the cobbled rear yards of Longwater manor Bella stared blankly at the improving pile of the rug she was beating. Dust sprinkling down and twinkling in the early morning sunlight with each stroke of the beater.

Jenny’s voice bellowed out from the rear doorway.

“Put your back into it girl, you have four more to finish then I want you back in the laundry, when you have finished in the laundry you can get changed to serve luncheon.”

Bella sighed, it was what she did, it was her job, a good maid was always busy, no time to idle, Mistress had told her so. Must please Mistress, good maid’s please Mistress. Bella knew that and little else. There was something else, something, but what? She always wanted to be a maid, didn’t she? She was a maid, what else, what something else could there possibly be?

Bella swung the beater back at the dangling rug and continued her work.

Abigail had thought twice about sneaking back into Longwater she had decided to face up to Miss Prentice, confront the woman with what she had seen.

Finding Miss Prentice in the library Mrs Dillon looked uncomfortable.

“She is back, the Standish Jones girl, Abigail, Caroline’s friend, she was here yesterday, remember?”

Miss Prentice stood sliding a book back into its slot within the shelves.

“Really? What does she want, did she say?”

Mrs Dillon shrugged

“To see you, nothing else just to see you.”

Miss Prentice walked slowly towards Mrs Dillon and the doorway of the library.

“Very well show her into the Parlour, I will be along directly.”

Having told Abigail again that her friend Miss Caroline was not at home to visitors Miss Prentice Sat opposite Abigail showing little emotion, whilst Abigail blurted out what she thought she knew, what she had seen.

“You cannot deny it, I saw it all with my own eyes. Therapy, a strange therapy if you ask me, and how did Caroline manage to get you involved, she hates you. What I want to know is why she is doing this, and I demand to see her or, or I will tell everybody, and her reputation will be ruined. “

Miss Prentice said nothing just stared at Abigail whose flush of confidence was wanning under her piercing stare. Could anyone actually be so naïve, obviously so.

Miss Prentice hid her amusement maintaining a stern expression having learnt, that following her visit the previous day, this girl had sneaked back into the manor and seen Jenny supervising Bella at her chores, but had convinced herself it is all part of some perverse idea of her friend, to want to be a maid whilst Lady Drake was away travelling?  Miss Prentice quickly seized upon the girl’s credulous interpretation.

“Well then, Miss Caroline’s secret is out, and I cannot say I am not glad. Have you told anyone else about this?”

The confirmation of Abigail’s suspicions revitalised her confidence.

“No, no I have not, now, I demand an explanation, and then I will see her.”

Abigail sat open mouthed whilst Miss Prentice spun a convincing narrative to germinate the seed of Abigail’s believe, that her friend had placed herself into servitude, feeding the presumptive interpretation she had already formed in her own mind. A presumption very much at odds with what had actually occurred.

 

“Miss Caroline had long had a secret pact with Mrs Dillon to wear the livery of a Longwater maid when the opportunity arose, to carry out menial tasks and serve her tea. Strange I know and even stranger that the secret was so well kept. It seems these desires had grown more obsessive of late, from the time her father passed away. Mrs Dillion was finding it harder and harder to indulge the Mistress who was demanding more realism more authenticity to her servitude.

You were right, Miss Abigail about Lady Drake being away. Miss Caroline conspired with Mrs Dillon and plans were laid. That is when I was contacted. She hated me yes, but Caroline knew if I assumed the role of her Mistress at Longwater, with what had transpired those years ago, well, a strong Mistress was required to provide the authenticity she desired. I refused at first of course I did, but Mrs Dillon begged me to accept, which I did.  Mrs Dillon hoping that months of subjugation would exercise the demons within Miss Drake. All the servants were sworn to secrecy and would be well rewarded. Miss Caroline Drake would become Bella and enter into the service of Mrs Dillon a housemaid at Longwater manor. Bella even signed her own contract that was countersigned by Miss Caroline Drake herself and Mrs Dillon. She insisted that the contact of Bella be authenticated by the notary. And so it was, some weeks into her service. Bella officially entered into the county’s records, Scullery maid at Longwater manor. Miss Caroline’s last demand, before she turned her back on the wealth and privilege she enjoyed. To have her hair shorn like all the maids at Longwater. I make no excuses for the maids who relished watching the Mistresses golden locks being hacked away. I suspect that may have been the tipping point.  I stood by the kitchen wall listening to the mocking tittering of the maids, watching Miss Caroline Drake, aproned, and sat in her uniform, her long locks floating down on the floor, something changed, her expression, she looked up and her eyes, something about her eyes. It was Bella that stood meekly from that stool smoothing down her apron. Not a hint of the poise and sophistication one would associate with a lady, none.”

Miss Prentice paused for effect and sighed.

Abigail hanging on every word sat forward.

“What is it, what?”

The concerned expression framed on Miss Prentice’s face would have convinced anyone and the gullible Abigail gasped at the next revelations.

“You have seen her, you said that you have seen her, heard her? I must tell you, your friend is no longer Miss Caroline Drake, she is Bella, she has become nought but a common housemaid.”

“I personally did not think that she would last the course, but it was tragic watching her, every day, week by week, month by month sliding deeper and deeper into her assumed persona. Bella struggled with her duties, at first that is, why wouldn’t she. What alternative did Mrs Dillon have, harsh words turned to physical reprimands her instructions had been explicit, to be treated a common maid, and true to this, the strap was laid onto her bare buttocks hesitantly at first but with increasing enthusiasm as the weeks passed. The mocking and humiliation did not spur any resistance to the new maids contrived, menial reality, it only served to reinforce and encourage its willing debasement more. Her voice the way she speaks, it just happened, I was shocked we all were, but now? It is just how Bella talks. Miss Caroline was not the kindest of Mistresses with her maids, as you no doubt know. Now she is just one of them, well who could blame the maids for seeking a little retribution.  I try to stop the bullying, but I know it goes on.”

Another pause, Miss Prentice looking at the shocked face of Abigail, she was swallowing the fictitious diatribe hook, line, and sinker.

“Lady Drake will be returning to Longwater next weekend what she will make of her stepdaughter now I do not know. I thought of getting a doctor but that would be so embarrassing, perhaps Lady Drake will feel the same?”

Abigail adjusted her posture in her chair.

“Unbelievable, just incredulous, Caroline all this time wanting to be a maid, the secrets with Mrs Dillon her housekeeper, now this, this?  Do you think she was always so nasty with the maids because she was jealous of them, always wanting to be one of them?”

Miss Prentice smiled somewhat bewildered by this girl’s gullibility at her acceptance of what she had been told and her ridiculous misplaced assumption. 

 “Perhaps, who knows within such an obviously troubled mind.”

Miss Prentice sat back she had impressed herself with her wicked, most believable tale of Miss Caroline Drakes self-deprecation.

There was an anxiousness in Abigail’s voice.

“Miss Prentice I must see her I really must and help her.”

“Yes Miss Abigail, you must indeed, I owe you that, who knows, seeing you may stir something in Bella. What I have told you however must be taken into your strictest confidence. Until Lady Drake returns no one beyond these walls must be aware of the new maid at Longwater Manor. Now Abigail, luncheon will be served shortly, please join me. When you see her, Bella, I ask that you do not alarm her unduly, she is a maid, treat her as one. I have come to accept rather than judge. Trust me, that is the best help you can give her at this time. We can only pray maid Bella is not beyond her own emancipation and we will eventually see your friend Miss Caroline again.”

“Come let us make our way to the dining room, shall we?

 

Chapter 7

 

It was not obvious, looking down from the top of the stairway the previous afternoon, but it was the first thing that Abigail noticed watching her friend, Caroline Drake, Bella, enter the dining room. How much weight had she gained? Bella’s short hair did not help but her face, round, puffy, reddened cheeks, perhaps it was the generous cut of her bulky dress, although she clearly filled it, she looked, well, dumpy? Caroline was lithe a firm and curvy figure but, well, she had certainly piled on the pounds. Caroline had been fed a sweet gruel since Miss Prentice had taken control of her. She resisted at first, even had to be forced fed, but the addictive sweet mash, laced with the essence of the mind-numbing chocolate had become irresistible to maid Bella. The dosing of the essence had reduced to a fraction of the initial additions but still enough to keep the maids mind dulled and dumbed.

 Seeing her friend looking so humble and curtsying made Abigail frown and feel quite uncomfortable at first, but it was all so natural, no different than the servants and maids at her own home, Clegg Hall. There was no recognition by the maid, its gaze remaining respectfully lowered and with luncheon progressing the more comfortable Abigail became with the situation. Caroline was right-handed but Bella was obviously favouring her left whist she served. Abigail mentioned this to her host who just shrugged her shoulders. Abigail had watched the maids at work whilst they served table. Caroline, Bella, no different to the other two maids in attendance in both appearance, competence, and servility of her service. Whilst Abigail required little further proof, she was now totally convinced that what Miss Prentice had told her was true, her friend, Caroline Drake, had willingly taken the apron and had become consumed by her desires for a life of servitude.

The meal finished and back in the parlour Miss Prentice smiled.

“Thank you, Abigail for not upsetting Bella, that could not have been easy for you, Miss Caroline having been your friend, although not a friend you would seek now, with her choosing to become a common maid.”

Abigail looked at Miss Prentice, she did look rather intimidating, but she was obviously not the wicked women that Caroline had portrayed, she seemed most sympathetic to Caroline’s wish to disown her birthright, to be a maid of her own housekeeper. It seemed clear to Abigail that Miss Prentice was no less confused and concerned by Caroline’s wish to become maid Bella than herself. She was just seeking to protect Caroline, wasn’t she?

Abigail giggled, she could not help herself.

“Yes, I was most disturbed at first, I will admit, seeing her like that, but from what you told me before, it is quite evident, that was not Miss Caroline Drake, my friend, serving table. The way she is dressed the way she looks, her mannerisms, no, for reasons I doubt I will ever understand, that girl is a maid, and I must say, what a good maid Bella is.

Abigail giggled again.

“I Know I shouldn’t say this, with Caroline having been my friend, and I do feel awful having these thoughts and please do not feel ill of me but. I felt quite aroused in a strange sort of way, seeing her like she is, looking so plain, podgy, weak, and ever so humble. Whatever was in her mind to want this for herself, to do this to herself, the transformation from the confidant and pretty young lady she was into the dowdy common maid she is, well, she could not have been more successful. Who would every know or even think that bound within its bibbed lace trimmed apron, Bella was once a lady of means and privilege?”

“You mentioned a contract Miss Prentice, a maid’s contract, that Caroline had raised and signed for Bella to be taken into service at Longwater. That intrigues me, could I see it?

Miss Pentice smirked,

“Why of course it is a matter of public record, I will call Mrs Dillon to bring it for you.”

Miss Prentice pulled the call cord and Mrs Dillon was sent to bring Bella’s contract.

Abigail sat chuckling reading the document. Caroline’s bold flowing signature she recognised, underneath the scrawl of Bella’s, witnessed by Mrs Dillon all over stamped by the seal of the notary.

Abigail then looked up questioningly.

“Ridiculous, why would she do this to herself, she must have known the implications with this?

“She has become her own maid, unless she comes to her senses, returns to her status of Mistress how can she possibly release herself from this contract, do you think that was that her intention from the outset?”

Miss Prentice with a contrived but convincing look of concern shrugged her shoulders to continue her deceitful portrayal of events.

“Miss Caroline was adamant that Bella was officially signed into the service of Longwater like any other maid, despite Mrs Dillon explaining the consequences, which only seemed to reinforce Miss Caroline’s resolve further. There was no choice but to follow her instructions, which as prescribed, were followed to the letter. Yes, reading the contract, without the Mistresses consent of release the maid would remain in service in perpetuity. All detailed in the terms of the contact. Fortunately, Lady Drake will be in position to revoke the contract when she returns, to free her stepdaughter for what many would consider her madness.”

Miss Prentice smirked

“Although seeing what her stepdaughter has become, wanted to become, and being so proficient in its duties, perhaps not.”

Abigail, could not help but laugh at the prospect of Caroline Drake remaining a maid for her stepmother, but from what she had been told, and seen with her own eyes, the suggestion was not as ridiculous as it seemed. 

Abigail left Longwater manor convinced that her long-term friend had chosen to relinquish her rank and privilege and had unconditionally surrendered herself into and under the control of her own housekeeper, to become a servant in her own home. So driven by these desires, and as if to seal her fate and self-sought demise, into what one could only surmise to be a degree of permanency, her last act as Mistress having been to officially endorse a maid’s contract for Maid Bella, the maid she wished to be, the maid she now was. Abigail had seen the very contract herself. She knew little of legal contracts, but the endorsement of the county’s notary was clear.

Abigail having had her suspicions confirmed, Miss Prentice had explained everything and she had seen the maid at work. Why Caroline had chosen to do this to herself was a mystery, but it was obviously what she wanted, why else the maid’s contract and what other explanation could there possibly be?

What Lady Drake would make of the situation, when she returns, Abigail was at a loss to think. Would her friend be sent somewhere for treatment, to a sanatorium, or, or would Lady Drake indulge Caroline, well Bella now, like Miss Prentice had suggested? Caroline and Lady Drake rarely saw eye to eye and were always arguing, Caroline will not be in any position to argue with Lady Drake now, being a contracted maid at Longwater manor, surely Lady Drake would not keep her for one of her maid’s, would she?

Miss Prentice sat in the parlour congratulating herself on having sent Miss Caroline’s gullible friend away filled with her accepted version of how the sophisticated would-be mistress of Longwater manor had become the housemaid, Bella. She chuckled at the girl’s naivety.

The door to the parlour opening quickly, Mrs Dillon stood stone faced framed in the doorway.

“You will have to come its Bella, she is in quite state, in the laundry room.”

Entering the laundry Miss Prentice saw Bella stood staring into space mumbling a cooling iron sat on a still smoking scorched apron that she had been pressing.

“Bella, what is it girl.”

Bella turned and spoke slowly

 “Ab -i-gail, Ab-i-gail friend, here friend, Ab-i-gail.”

Miss Prentice eased Bella from the laundry and sat her at the long wooden table in the kitchens.

“Miss Abigail, a friend? No Bella, was a friend, no longer a friend, you are a maid Bella, Miss Abigail is a lady.”

Bella stared at Miss Prentice her mind in turmoil shaking her head seeking to clear confused thoughts.

“Abi, abi, Ab-i-gail friend?”

Miss Prentice slapped her hand hard on the table to gain the befuddled maid’s attention and raised her voice.

Miss Abigail is a lady, she is not your friend, do you understand girl, not your friend you are a maid.

Bella calmed somewhat, her mind trying to reconcile the perceived contradiction of her thoughts and Miss Prentice continued in a softer tone.

“Bella how could a maid like you possibly have a lady like Miss Abigail for a friend, now tell me Bella what are you?

Bella gazed down on her apron.

“A maid Mistress”

Miss Prentice continued in her soft tone

“That’s right Bella a maid, and Miss Abigail is a lady, not a friend, now who is Miss Abigail Bella?”

A resolution offered to her haunting contradiction, being guided by Miss Prentice, Bella whispered

“Miss Abigail is a lady, a lady not a friend.”

Miss Prentice smirked at her calming maid.

“That’s right Bella, Miss Abigail is a lady and ladies do not have maid’s has friends do they, no, so I do not what to hear any more of such nonsense, do you understand girl.”

It had been apparition, it must have been, the contradiction of her thoughts had been cleared with the logic of her Mistresses words. She was a maid, she had always wanted to be a maid, she knew that. Miss Abigail was a lady how could Miss Abigail be the friend of a mere maid? Yes, Miss Abigail was a lady not a friend.

The confusion on Bella’s face gave way to a weak smile.

“Yes, I was confused Mistress, know Miss Abigail, but not friend, Miss Abigail a lady.”

Miss Prentice stood and pointed to the laundry door.

“That’s right, now Back to your work Bella, you will not be punished for scorching the apron this time.”

Bella stood and curtsied

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Miss Prentice chuckled turning to Mrs Dillon, who had watched Bella’s flickering flame of brief recollections to a past reality, cynically snuffed out.

“Mrs Dillon, increase the dose of our maid’s essence slightly at supper and will you and send her to me when her days duties are completed.  I feel the girl needs a little reinforcement of her position in life.”

That evening, suitable doped, Bella was taken to the upper landings and made to repeat over and over the words Miss Prentice had written on the blackboard. Any hesitation met with a reinforcing swish of a cane.

Miss Abigail is a lady not a friend of mere maid’s, Miss Abigail is a lady not a friend of mere maid’s, Miss Abigail is a lady not a friend of mere maid’s, over and over the words repeated being insidiously implanted and ingrained into Bella’s receptive mind.

Bella always wanted to be a maid, was a maid, a previous mantra, long adopted to be fact in her new reality. Now, by similar process, any perceived connection, any relationship, any and all thought of Abigail would only be that of lady and respectful maid. 

Abigail’s parents had already left for Windsor and the race’s when she arrived back at Clegg Hall and all was quiet. Mrs Ferris, the housekeeper at Clegg Hall, met the returning Miss Abigail in the hallway. Abigail was justifiably distracted from the day’s events, which was noticed to Mrs Ferris

“You are back, your parents have only just left, an hour ago, they were hoping that you would be joining them. Your mother was most disappointed. Still its none of my business Miss.  You look worried, is everything alright Miss?”

 Abigail just looked at Miss Ferris without expression.

“Yes, I am fine, thank you.”

Mrs Ferris could tell that there was something not right, something troubling the young Miss, but let it pass

“Will you be requiring supper at seven, as normal Miss?”

Abigail had enjoyed the luncheon at Longwater and was not particularly hungry and declined.

“No, I ate earlier at Longwater so I will leave supper this evening.”

“Oh, so that’s what troubles you Miss Caroline, it seems some time since I have seen your friend, but what, with you being away in France, why would I. You mother is not happy with you spending time with her and her ways, again none of my business Miss.”

Abigail just smiled and went to her rooms to change.

Sat on her bed Abigail thought of Caroline, how could she have kept the secret of what she was doing with the housekeeper from her, for more than a year according to Miss Prentice? They shared everything Caroline had never so much as hinted at such preposterousness. When she had left for France Caroline was establishing herself to be the Mistress of Longwater usurping her Stepmother, now, when I return, I find she has suddenly decided to become a maid, is a maid, Bella, where did she think up that name? All this time wanting to be a maid and look where it has got her, she has lost her mind, why did she never say anything? Still, not something anyone, not even Caroline, is likely to share, dressing up in one of your maid’s uniforms for your housekeeper, grovelling to the hired help?

Abigail chuckled to herself laying back on her pillows thinking of Lady Drakes return from her travels. She is in for one hell of a shock, make no mistake.

Abigail’s mind drifted, not to wanting to become a maid but being forced into servitude, her own housekeeper making her dress in one of the maid’s uniforms putting her to work scrubbing floors like she had seen Caroline doing. Her arousal and excitement grew seeing herself being discovered by her mother whilst dressed as a maid working for the housekeeper. Her mother agreeing with Mrs Ferris that she be kept a maid, meekly serving her mother and father at dinner whilst they both mocked her. What was she doing! She was wet and panting? What was happing to her, what was she thinking? She had been at herself the evidence was stained in the wetness of her gusset. Self-loathing is a pervasive and pernicious emotion, and the denial of her imaginings could not hide her true feelings, what she feared, what could be from such thoughts, that it would not be if but when. She must remove and clear all such thoughts of a dalliance with servitude from her mind. The consequences of any such flirtation had been laid before her at Longwater manor.

 

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