Story: Veronica and Aunt Miranda. Chapter 5.

by Jackie J

For a mother who had her daughter's future already planned and mapped out for her - to marry well into a wealthy family, perhaps aristocracy - and who had insisted on her good education and the self-pampering of her natural beauty, for her pretty princess to have apparently chosen a path so diametrically opposed to these dreams and ambitions of a safe and contented life of privilege, filled Elizabeth with a mixture of despair and anger.  

Why had she agreed for Veronica to travel north for an extended stay with her aunt? But she could not have known, how could she? Why hadn’t her sister told her of the madness that had possessed her daughter, the utter ridiculousness of it all? How could Veronica have been so deceitful? How long had Veronica held these perverse desires? The whole thing was absurd, a complete nightmare! How will she explain this to her husband? What if her friends find out? She would be ridiculed and humiliated. The daughter of Lord and Lady Singleton, an indentured maid? How could Veronica do this to her? How could her sister condone and encourage such madness?



What choice did she have if she was to secure the release from the indenture? She would have to endure two weeks of watching her daughter, reduced to a common housemaid, humble herself in front of her in her sister’s household! If she tried to shake the madness from Veronica and take her back to Latchwood Miranda could invoke the indenture and the whole matter would become public and the inevitable shame intolerable. No, she would go along with her sister’s conditions but was already considering options for her daughter’s rehabilitation when this fiasco was over.  

Watching her daughter, along with her fellow maid, serve dinner that first evening, Elizabeth was close to tears. She compared the two attentive maids. They looked the same, like peas in a pod, wearing their fresh starched aprons, cropped hair and mop caps they were both competent in their service. There was no outward difference between them, they were just two maids about their duties serving their Mistress and her guest. The hidden difference was that one of them was no doubt of humble origin, while the other, her daughter, was the heiress to the Singleton fortune. Yet at this table they were both equals, just two common housemaids, no reluctance from either to willingly serve their betters with the deference commensurate with their accepted lowly status.

Having cleared table the two maids curtsied and having been dismissed by their Mistress left the dining room.

Elizabeth looked across the table at her sister and shook her head. Was it shame, despair or surely not, denied pride seeing the level of accomplished competence displayed by her daughter whilst serving table?

Veronica had been spoiled all her life wanting for nothing and whilst Elizabeth could not understand the motivation of her precious daughter to reduce herself from a rich young lady of privilege to become a common housemaid, not only did she seem content, if not happy, but like her sister had told her, Ronnie was certainly a good maid. The service at table was exemplary.  Elizabeth had already noticed the pristine condition of Lowercroft, the overall cleanliness, the highly polished surfaces, the glistening tiled floors. Given her daughter, in part at least, was responsible for that during her time at Lowercroft, she truly had become a competent and accomplished maid.   

Back in the kitchens washing the pots and pans Ronnie smiled into the bubbling suds. She had thought it would be awkward serving her mother at table but it wasn’t. It was just natural. It was no different to serving her Mistress's other guests. Keeping her gaze lowered, offering her developed and deserved deference to her betters - it was all just natural now for Ronnie.

During the first week of her stay at Lowercroft Elizabeth could still not believe the transformation in her daughter. Was this the same precocious young woman that petulantly flounced around Latchwood in her fine dresses, sat for hours brushing through her long golden hair, nibbling at her food to maintain her figure? Here at Lowercroft she had become willingly aproned, her rather now corpulent figure confined within the coarse fabric of a drab unflattering uniform of service. Unrecognisable to be other than a common housemaid, in both appearance and mannerism, to be happily down on her hands and knees scrubbing floors, cleaning and polishing, or rigorously at the washboard, her daughter was no more than a domestic drone.What was she to do? What could she do?

When Elizabeth first heard Lucy and Ronnie talking together in the guttural northern tongue spraying slang words like confetti she wanted to grab her daughter and slap her. Not only was she looking and acting like a common maid she was speaking like one too! 

One more week, one more week that’s all. Then Elizabeth’s humiliation at the hands of her sister would be over. She would obtain the indenture for her daughter and she could drag her rebellious Miss mop back to Latchwood and drive this maid nonsense from her. Once her little treasure gets herself back into fine silk and cocooned within the odour of expensive perfume she will soon forget being a maid, shed those extra pounds and purge the stench of labour and carbolic soap from her.

Sat in the parlour after dinner, what had become the practice, Elizabeth once again practically ignored Ronnie when she brought drinks apart from pointing where she wished her drink to be placed. Whilst this pantomime played out she was more comfortable distancing the attentive maid from her daughter. This wasn’t Veronica serving drinks. It was just a maid.

Miranda smiled taking a sip of her sherry watching the awkwardness of her sister. She hated using Veronica as a pawn but she was such a willing pawn after all. It was Veronica’s wish to become a maid. No one had forced her to turn her back on such a privileged life, to swap her fine gowns, her life of leisure for a uniform and the drudgery of service. Indeed Miranda was convinced that Ronnie was actually enjoying her subservient existence at Lowercroft.

“I must say Elizabeth you seem to be treating my maid much like you would your own.”

Elizabeth glared at her sister.

“Don’t be ridiculous Miranda. I just cannot accept that that is my Veronica, my little princess.”

Miranda shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, it is true she has changed a lot since she joined the staff here at Lowercroft. Not only in appearance, which in itself is significant with her hair, her figure and complexion but her poise and mannerisms, her whole bearing. I know you nearly burst a blood vessel when you heard her speaking with Lucy whilst they were scrubbing the hallway tiles the other day.”

Miranda paused taking another sip of her drink.

“You have been here at Lowercroft for over a week now, you must have seen it in her, Elizabeth. You cannot deny it, the girl is a perfect maid and, what is more, she wants to be a maid.”  

Elizabeth looked across at her sister.

“What are you saying? I should leave her here with you at Lowercroft in your service? My daughter to remain your indentured maid?! You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

Miranda finished her drink and stood to pull the call cord.

“I am not saying that at all, although it is an option. When I transfer the indenture for the maid it will be up to you what you do with it. But who would not want such a willing dogsbody in their service?”

Elizabeth showed her annoyance.

“Stop talking about Veronica like that, Miranda. She is not an it or a dogsbody. She is my daughter for goodness sake.”

Ronnie entered the parlour and curtsied.

“Mistress?”

Miranda smiled at her maid.

“Take away these glasses and refill them girl.”

Ronnie placed the glasses on the tray and curtsied

“Yes Mistress.”

With Ronnie having left the room Miranda returned to her seat.

“Your daughter, Elizabeth? Really?”

“Like I told you when you arrived, I never thought it would go this far, but it has. If you can point out any characteristic of my niece, your daughter in the curtsying maid that just left this room carrying her tray I would like to hear it.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister. Miranda was right. She was in denial, wasn’t she? Ronnie was totally different to her daughter. The way she looked, acted and spoke that wasn’t Elizabeth’s self-confident, petite, pretty and pampered daughter. Ronnie was just a common housemaid. Whatever delusionary imaginings and desires had attracted and tempted her to to adopt the persona of maid Ronnie, the enthusiastically self sought subjugation and denigration of Elizabeth’s pretty princess had slowly but surely seamlessly sealed her little treasure into the mind and body of a common maid. This had gone well beyond the charade either Veronica or Miranda had planned. Whilst she loathed to admit it, her pretty daughter had willingly and happily become no more than a plain Jane housemaid.

Ronnie returned with the filled glasses and placed them in front of her Mistress and Lady Singleton. A bobbed curtsy and she was gone.

Miranda picked up her glass.

“Well I am waiting Elizabeth. No I thought not. You are going to have to decide what you are going to do with maid Ronnie. Heaven knows why but she obviously enjoys her subservient role. Both inwardly and outwardly the girl is just a maid. I am not sure she will want to or even be capable of returning to a life of leisure and privilege. Are you?

Elizabeth nursed her glass thinking on Miranda’s words and of the times her headstrong daughter had driven her to distraction and despair with her behaviour. Veronica had been spoiled beyond compare and wanted for nothing yet her tantrums, sulks and disobedience were commonplace. Despite Elizabeth’s efforts to arrange a suitable marriage for her Veronica had thwarted her attempts at every turn and now this! She had gone too far this time, she had been deceitful and selfish in demeaning herself like she had. Embarrassing her mother, becoming a lowly maid in her sister’s home of all places. What was she thinking? Was she even thinking? Did she care at all about herself, her family? Elizabeth’s mind churned then wickedly turned to the unthinkable from the rehabilitation of her daughter to having the obedient shrew-like creature she had become join her own staff at Latchwood. Mrs Williams, her own housekeeper, knew how to treat the maids at Latchwood. A period of being a maid under her draconian regime would surely drive this stupidity from her. Yes Veronica will have had it soft here in her auntie’s service but that will not be the case at Latchwood.

It was preposterous of course to consider having her own daughter to be a maid at Latchwood but where was her daughter? Her pretty petite blonde-haired princess had been stolen from her by this dumpy servile crop-haired cretin of a maid Ronnie. She wouldn’t be taking her daughter back to Latchwood, would she? No, she would be taking an indentured maid and that maid would pay dearly for what she had done to her beautiful daughter!

Elizabeth sipped on her sherry hiding her emotions.

“As much as it pains me, Miranda, I cannot disagree with you that your meek maid Ronnie bears little resemblance in appearance or deed to my daughter Veronica who left Latchwood some six months ago to stay with you for the summer. My poor pretty Veronica has, for some perverse reason, imprisoned herself within that wretched maid and it would appear that she has no desire or inclination to escape, seemingly comfortable within that persona. I have complied fully with your conditions to have your maid’s indenture transferred to me and whilst here have not attempted any familiarisation and, like we agreed, treated Ronnie for what she is, just a maid. The first days were quite difficult seeing my daughter having demeaned herself like she had but now, having seen her about her duties this last week or so, I see little of my daughter in your little Miss Mop.  I am due to leave with her at the weekend which is only two days from now and whilst I have resisted thus far I wish to speak with her.”

Miranda finished her drink

“Of course, I was waiting for you to ask and have been quite surprised you have not asked sooner. I will arrange it with Mrs Robinson.”

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