Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 9.

by Jackie J

I don’t sleep well; I don’t sleep well at all.  For a second night I cannot get Lady Carrington, and how she makes me feel, out of my thoughts. I have to force myself to remind myself of who I actually am, who I really am. This isn’t right, I know it isn’t right, I know this must stop, I must get back to Crestley House, get back to my life or I will surely lose my mind?  

Jenny is already awake and getting dressed and soon, so am I. Boots to my feet I stand and tie the tapes of my apron into a neat bow at the base of my back. Whatever my denials and mental torment of the previous night, swathed in my cocoon of servility, my waking thoughts are only those of Milly the maid, Milly Brannigan.  Morning trays are prepared in the kitchens and, Rosy and I deliver morning tea to each of the guests’ rooms. I collect my last tray and standing outside Lady Carrington’s room I knock, enter, and curtsy.

“Your morning tea ladies.”

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 8.

by Jackie J

The letters that Mrs Burtonshaw had her maid Milly write duly arrived at their addresses.

Janice, having spent the past week preparing Crestley House for her Mistresses return, read the letter she had received with mixed emotions.  Disappointed her Mistress would not be returning but pleased that she had met someone. No detail but travelling abroad sounded as if at last it was a relationship that could lead to something permanent. Provision had been made with the bank for her to access additional funds and, with no mention of when her Mistress would return, Janice reconciled that she would just have to wait until she did.

The bank manager, on receiving Miss William letter, instructed his assistant to make the necessary arrangements and prepare a letter of authority for Miss Janice Renwick. Whilst giving her housekeeper access to her main accounts, he trusted that Miss Williams knew what she was doing and, with little concern, he would be retiring at the end of the month anyway, filed away the correspondence. 

Any reservations that I may have held about remaining a maid at Bracken Hall are forgotten settling the arriving guests for the gala weekend into their rooms with Rosy.