Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 4-5.

by Jackie J

Chapter 4

The first four weeks of Miss Caroline’s re-education were predicably harsh, brutal, demeaning and both humbling and humiliating. A snap of Miss Caroline’s fingers and a scowl had provided for her every whim now she begged for the most basic of her needs, all her needs.

Much to the amusement of Miss Prentice Jenny had not tired of the bullying of her once Mistress and dressing her in her frilly juvenile attire. The use of the cane and strap had become less frequent over time just its threat and harsh words now bringing total compliance to the accepted rituals of her childlike existence within the confines of Longwater manor. Such had been the brutalisation of Miss Caroline just a glare from Miss Prentice bringing an instant cowering, head lowered curtsy, from Bella. Yes Bella, a name chosen by Miss Prentice to be more fitting and one that had been, and continued to be, ingrained into the increasing fragile mind and nervous confused persona of Miss Caroline Drake, the once would be Mistress of Longwater manor.

Three weeks into Miss Caroline’s torment, Miss Prentice, satisfied the surly madame was compliant, began the next stage of her scheme. Dressed as always, in her pretty frills, her hair in ribboned pigtails Bella was sat at the desk Miss Prentice had prepared in one of the rooms on the top floor of the manor.

Instructed to, and holding out her left hand, Bella sighed with relief when her Mistress worked open the strapping on her wrist and tugged free the false hand. The bruising and swelling from her dislocated thumb had gone but the prime disfigured digit sat awkward across her palm.

Bella surveyed her disfigurement curling and wiggling her fingers wishing her thumb to react, of course it did not.

Miss Prentice stood back giving Bella a look that the poor girl had come to recognise, one of instant obedience.

“Well Girl, stand, curtsy, and thank your Mistress.”

Quick to her feet Bella lowered her gaze and curtsied.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Miss Prentice smirked watching Bella retake her seat then pulled up a chair to sit facing Bella across the desk before placing a book in front of her. Miss Prentice having a copy of the same book in her hands.

“Open the book girl, you are going to read to me.”

Two chapters read with perfect diction, inflection, and intonation a reflection of her expensive education. Miss Prentice having followed Bella’s reading in her own book, underlining certain words.

Smiling Miss Prentice reached behind her for a wispy cane and stared at her anxious pupil.

“Read again girl, from the start.”

Bella began reading and having not completed the first sentence the thin cane whacked across the back of her hand.

“Why did you hesitate girl?”

Bella winced shaking her hand.

“A comma Mistress, a comma.”

Miss Prentice laughed cynically,

 “A comma, a comma, read through comma’s if that’s what you call that squiggle.”

Again, again start again girl.”

How could she ignore such basic grammar? But following repeated whacks from the cane she was learning. Three days of reading the same passages and comma’s, indeed all punctuation, had no relevance. This was the beginning of Bella’s unlearning, which continued under the aggressive tutorage of Miss Prentice. Intonation and inflection suppressed; Miss Prentice demanding a higher pitch in Bella’s voice which would be best described to be squeaky. Punctuation ignored Bella was made to read on, and on, day after day. Without structure, it was just words, meaningless streams of mumbled sound. Any hint of grammatical correctness or inflection being met with swiftly delivered stings of the cane. The books chosen for Bella to read descending from solid literary works to story books with limited vocabulary and larger print. Three weeks of Miss Prentice’s insidious practice, and the words on the pages were to be read individually, one word at a time with a deliberate pause between each.  She would also made to speak in the same manner.

Proficient in her developed infantile reading style, and high-pitched voice Bella, for their amusement, was made to sit on a high stool in the parlour each evening and read to the gathered staff of the manor. Bob and his cat along with Mary on the farm proving most popular. Beyond the reading, well now just saying words, should the high pitch of Bella’s voice falter at any time to anything resembling maturity, she was spanked mercilessly. Similarly, any use of long words in her speech was chastised and punished, Bella forcibly encouraged to use simple single syllable words when she spoke.  Bella’s lessons with Miss Prentice graduated from the page of a book to phrases written in chalk on a blackboard fixed to the wall.

“Bella is stupid Bella is stupid I am Bella I am Bella”

“Bella wants an Apron Bella wants an Apron I am Bella I am Bella”

“Bella wants to be a maid Bella wants to be a maid I am Bella I am Bella”

Over and over from dawn until dusk Bella being made to relentlessly repeat the phrases. 

Two months had passed since the staff at Longwater Manor had first seen their Mistress taken under the brutal control of Miss Prentice and put into pigtails and frills. They had grown used to seeing how she was dressed and made to skip about the manor in front of Miss Prentice or her tormentor Jenny. Her squeaky voice seemed strange at first but like everything about the extraordinary transformation of their surly arrogant Mistress into the timid, and unquestionably obedient child-like Bella, they had grown accustomed to and accepting of it. Whilst previously they would flinch at the young would-be Mistress of Longwater manor’s approach, Bella was met with nothing more than a dismissive derisory chuckle.

The release of Bella’s right hand from its wicked incarceration, whilst welcome, offered little more dexterity than her left. The fingers, over the ensuing week, gained mobility but the cruelly dislocated thumb had healed in disfigurement across the palm. Miss Caroline’s threats to rip away her clothing at the first opportunity still rang hollow. Buttons and ties remained beyond manipulation but even if such an opportunity arose Bella would not dare, even consider, doing anything without the specific instruction or permission from her Mistress or Miss Jenny. Such was the mercilessly enforced and now accepted level of ingrained restriction and control that ruled Bella’s existence. Miss Caroline Drake that was had been heartlessly and enthusiastically stripped of its dignity, belittled, dumbed, and physically and verbally abused to morph into Bella, one who exhibited nothing but obsequious deference to her betters, everyone within Longwater manor. 

What was the confident, articulate and arrogant Miss Caroline Drake had been reduced to a malleable shadow of who she was. The most insidious of all Miss Prentice’s revenge being the installation of the lowly ambition that filled Bella’s mind, the yearning ambition to become a housemaid.

Unaware of Miss Prentices ultimate goal for Miss Caroline Drake, only yet shared with her trusted lieutenant Jenny, Mrs Dillon sat shocked when all was revealed to her.

“Oh, Miss Prentice, surely not, not here at Longwater, Miss Caroline, I mean Bella, to be one of my maids? She wants this, are you sure, really sure?

Miss Prentice laughed.

“Yes, Mrs Dillion, Jenny is preparing her as we speak. Bella is to be your scullery maid, the lowest rank of maid, good only for scrubbing and cleaning, the laundry, and the like, perhaps helping cook about the kitchens washing pots and preparing vegetables, it will start with you tomorrow. It will of course be put to the maid’s quarters; Jenny will supervise her, she will be joining us shortly.”

Stripped on her pretty frills Bella sat naked on a stool in the kitchens and Jenny strode around her and chuckled having removed the ribbons from Bella’s hair letting the pigtails loose and with strokes of a brush let her long blonde hair hang free.

With shears and brush in hand Jenny smirked cutting away the golden locks of her Mistress leaving a roughly cut short bob. Jenny had spent many hours over the years brushing the spoilt bitch’s hair for her, hair that now laid hacked in tatters on the kitchen’s flagged floor.

“There we are Bella, a maid’s cut like I promised for you, now let’s get you into your uniform, shall we?”

Bella stood from the stool strangely excited that her implanted ambition was to be realised, she was to be a maid. She thought she may be too stupid to be a maid, but Miss Jenny had said it would be fine.

“Yes Miss Jenny, thank you Miss Jenny”

Her once sophisticated and articulate Mistresses squeaky voice and stumbling staccato speech, developed, and consolidated through hours and days of incessant torment, never failing to raise a mocking smirk from Jenny. Bella knowing the painful consequence of failing to leave an obligatory pause between each of her words when she spoke.

Plain cotton underwear, coarse hosiery, a grey shapeless dress, bibbed apron, and a mop cap. Having dressed her Jenny tied the laces of the new maid’s boots and smiled standing back musing on the vison before her. Mistress of Longwater manor not anymore.

Jenny pointed to a brush and pan by the rear door.

“Perfect Bella, now fetch the brush and pan and sweep up this mess from the floor.

A nervous curtsy accompanied by the crumble of starched cotton Bella complied.

“Yes Miss Jenny”

Bella of course struggled holding the cleaning utensils but managed in an awkward way to sweep up her own hair from the floor. Jenny sarcastically congratulated what was her Mistress, sweeping up the debris for her own shearing.

“Good girl Bella, now let us go and see Mrs Dillon shall we.”  

Jenny and Bella entered Mrs Dillon’s office and Miss Prentice smiled watching them both drop respectful curtsies.

Miss Caroline Drake, the would- be Mistress of Longwater manor, the one responsible for Miss Prentice’s downfall all those years ago now stood timid and unsure shorn of her golden mane, mopped capped and aproned in her dowdy maid’s uniform about to be enrolled into the service of her own household, a lowly maid.

Jenny stepped forward.

“I have brought the new maid for your inspection Miss.”

Mrs Dillon, whilst apprehensive, had been briefed by Miss Prentice and knew what was required of her.

“So girl, you wish to be a maid here at Longwater manor is that correct?”

Bella stared at Mrs Dillon her mind in conflict, she was stupid she knew that, she wanted an apron, she wanted to be a maid, this is what she wanted, always wanted.

Bella curtsied and spoke in her simple squeaky high- pitched voice.

“Yes Miss, a maid Miss, your maid Miss.”

Mrs Dillon glanced over at a smirking Miss Prentice, what had that women done to Miss Caroline in those rooms on the upper floors, for her to be like this, to speak like this, to want to be a maid?

Bella’s response was genuine, of course it was. Her lowly ambition and wish for servitude had been remorselessly and relentlessly drummed into her. Day after day it had become her mantra, this was the fulfilment of her self-indoctrination to live to serve her betters, to scrub and clean, to be a housemaid.

Mrs Dillon, not herself without a deep loathing of what Miss Caroline was, how she had treated the staff at Longwater manor with disdain and disrespect, including herself, began to realise the perverse justice in what Miss Prentice had done with the conceited madam. Her attitude turning quickly from one of sympathy for Miss Caroline Drake, to that of relish at having maid Bella on her hands and knees scrubbing the very same floors that the hems of her high fashion once glided across.  

Mrs Dillon smiled.

“Very well Girl you wish to be a maid here at Longwater manor and a maid you shall be I will draw up your contract.”

Miss Prentice stepped forward and without warning took hold of each of the new maid’s hands in turn and with a snap of gristle and a scream of agony wrenched the maid’s thumbs from their dislocation.

Bella cowered away in agony, tears streaming down her face.

“There, we cannot have a maid restricted in its duties can we, take the girl away Jenny.”

Bella was taken away in tears, it would be some weeks before she regained full use of her thumbs, but she did, and began to learn the harsh reality of the life of a lowly maid at Longwater manor.

Four months had passed and with the last of the overseas business interests concluded Gwendoline was looking forward to her return to England and Longwater manor. With her return passage booked she sat at dinner with Lord and Lady Stokes and the company accountant on the last evening of her travels.

Lady Stokes clasped Gwendoline’s hand and smiled.

“Four more weeks Gwendoline and we will all be home, I cannot wait myself, living out of travelling cases for all this time, so tedious. At least all the business is settled and everywhere we have been only nice things have been said about Malcom. That must bring much solace to you.”

Gwendoline sighed and smiled.

“Yes, people have been so kind. I just have to find a way to resolve things with Malcom’s wayward daughter Caroline when I return. If Malcom had one fault it was how he spoiled his daughter. I did arrange for an ex- governess to stay at the manor whilst I have been away, in an attempt to curb her excesses. It will be interesting to see what progress she made, Miss Prentice was quite adamant that I would see a different girl when I returned, I do not hold out much hope, we will have to see.”

Chapter 5.

Whilst Miss Caroline Drake possessed all the skills of a privileged lady of leisure, Bella however, possessed none for the life into which she had been thrust. Jenny and indeed all the servants at Longwater manor took great pleasure in ridiculing the new maid as she struggled with the simplest of menial tasks. Of course, Bella’s lack of a firm grip through the first couple of weeks in service did not help in this regard. Whilst both hands were now free, having had the use of her left hand prior to the release of the right, her left hand was still favoured, and it continued to be. The new skills of servitude that Bella was learning being carried out exclusively left- handed.

Constantly mocked and derided the tongue lashings Bella received were matched in equal measure with the strap for her incompetence. Worked hard from dawn until dusk, sweeping, scrubbing, cleaning, wearing her knuckles raw from the washboard in the laundry. There was no end to the mind -numbing mundane menial and physically demanding existence that was becoming her life, that, through fear of Miss Prentices retribution, she was accepting to be her life.

Miss Prentice kept a watchful eye on the maid’s development ensuing Jenny did not ease up on her ex-Mistresses brutal subjugation. A subjugation instigated by Miss Prentice that was like a disease festering within. Unabated, dumbing and consuming a once privileged bright mind. Bella, the victim of Miss Prentices traumatic and cruel indoctrinations left timid and inarticulate a willing servant in the home that was once her own. Miss Prentice had nothing to concern herself with regards to Jenny’s enthusiasm waning for the debasement of her ex -Mistress. Jenny was unlikely to forget that the hunched maid at her feet, scrubbing the tiles of the main hallway, not long since had barked its orders around the manor in derisory and belittling tones.

Miss Prentice had thought it would be amusing to have the new maid Bella contacted into service at Longwater manor, to show Lady Drake on her return how effective the taming of her wayward stepdaughter had been. Sat in Mrs Dillon’s office Miss Prentice laughed reviewing the files of the manor’s maids holding up a blank maid’s contract. Blank but for the addition of a bold signature at the foot of the document.

When Miss Caroline Drake reached eighteen, she had been adamant that she be treated like her stepmother, an equal, the Mistress of the manor. To this end, anything that required a signature she was insistent that it would be hers. However, with the high turnover of maids, due to her own arrogance, she soon tired of having to be involved with each and every new maid and pre signed a number of contracts for Mrs Dillon to use.

Mrs Dillon smiled.

“What is it that amuses you so Miss Prentice?”

Miss Prentice placed the incomplete contract on Mrs Dillon’s desk.

“Look at the bottom, the signature, Caroline’s signature already in place, just perfect, the irony, Miss Caroline Drake will be contracting Bella to be her maid at Longwater, signing herself into her own service. I will get Jenny to bring your new maid so you can complete the formalities and she can make her mark.”

Mrs Dillon stared at Miss Prentice.

“But we can’t, I can’t, I have to countersign the contracts, it’s all legal, they go to the notary, look at these, the others, Jenny’s the other girls, they are all stamped, officially stamped by the notary?”

Miss Prentice smirked.

“Indeed, they are, I shall go and get Jenny to bring Bella.”

Entering Mrs Dillon’s office with Jenny Bella curtsied and stood looking down at the floor her worn chaffed hands across her apron.

Miss Prentice stood and approached Bella lifting her chin to look into her weary eyes and wiped some grime from her cheeks.

“Bella, you have done well with the start of your training and you will be pleased to know that Mrs Dillon is going to offer you your contract, a contract for you to remain a maid at Longwater manor. This will secure your position here, give you the benefits that the other maids enjoy, you can then be trained in above stairs tasks, and be paid. Come and take a seat at the desk.” 

Bella shuffled forward and sat in front of Mrs Dillon’s desk not daring to raise her gaze.

Mrs Dillon looked up at Miss Prentice, sighed in resignation at what she was about to do, took a deep breath and began the process of signing the befuddled would-be Mistress of Longwater manor into the service of her own home, under her new name, that of Bella.

Having blotted the signature of Bella, a scrawled lefthanded mark, Bella’s thumb still not capable of providing enough pressure to firmly grip the pen, Mrs Dillon handed the contract to Miss Prentice.

 Bella having been dismissed Miss Prentice handed the document back to Mrs Dillon.

“Well just the validation now Mrs Dillon, I will leave that in your capable hands.”

Miss Prentice could sense some hesitation.

“Mrs Dillon remember what that young witch was before I arrived, she made your life a misery and the lives of your staff. I lost everything due to that spoilt cow’s scheming and now she is suffering the same fate. Get the contact authorised by the notary as is normal practice.”

The work for Bella was unrelenting continuing to be given all the dirtiest menial tasks about the manor and her routines of servitude were established.  Weeks passed and Bella, often now unsupervised, carried out her duties without complaint.  Hardened reddened skin to her knees, her hands callused and raw from the laundry soda, a greasy complexion, and her short hair lank and brittle.  The days of oils and fragrances in a pampered existence not even a memory. Constant bending and kneeling, carrying, and fetching had taken any bounce from her gait and a slight stoop in her posture was becoming evident. A lowly maid she was, and her appearance reflected just that. 

The Notary, who returned Bella’s contract, met with Mrs Dillon and Bella for proof of identity, never considering the dowdy maid he met with the speech impediment, was anything other than just another maid. Such had been the physical degradation and bearing of the bright eyed vivacious young Mistress of Longwater manor.

“Yet another recruit Mrs Dillon, your young Mistress never seems to tire of abusing her staff, who left your employ in tears this time?”

Mrs Dillon forever fearful Bella would be recognised for who she truly was dismissed Bella back to her duties and ushered the Notary out into the hallway.

“Yes, maid retention is a problem at Longwater, but I suspect that may be changing.”

True to her word Miss Prentice had Jenny train Bella in the less arduous duties of a maid at Longwater manor. Cleaning and replacing linen in the bed chambers, polishing furniture, preparing trays, setting table, and eventually serving table. Whilst performing what would be termed above stairs duties her plain grey cotton dress was replaced with the livery of the manor, her apron lace trimmed like the tiara she now wore. Every wary of the watchful Jenny and the punishment for lack of attention, Bella learned quickly and well.

The curtsying maid in her crisp attire stood in line with the other maids for daily inspection, peas in a pod, and Miss Prentice smiled watching Mrs Dillon walk down the line issuing instructions for the day’s tasks. Miss Caroline Drake no less attentive and servile than her now contemporaries, a dutiful maid in the service of what was her own housekeeper. 

Miss Prentice disturbed from her reading by somewhat of a commotion at the main entrance entered the hallway to see a well- dressed young lady remonstrating with Mrs Dillon.

“Standish-Jones, Abigail Standish Jones, and I demand to see Miss Caroline. You know who I am, now let me in this instant and tell Caroline I am here to visit with her.”

Miss Prentice strode to the entrance and smiled.

“Mrs Dillon, what seems to be the problem”

Mrs Dillon was rather flustered

“Miss Abigail, a friend of Miss Caroline, she wishes to see her I have told her Miss Caroline is not at home, not seeing visitors, but she insists on seeing her.”

Miss Prentice stood back from the door.

“Miss Prentice, pleased to meet you again Miss Abigail, do come in, come through to the parlour won’t you.”

“Mrs Dillon have Jenny bring tea to the parlour.”

Abigail stared at Miss Prentice warily, she remembered Miss Prentice, it was many years ago, she had been Caroline’s governess, but Caroline had got her dismissed, there had been quite a lot of trouble about it. But what was she doing back here at Longwater?

Abigail was nervous Caroline had told her what a cruel and evil witch the woman was.

“Look whoever you are I just want to see Caroline I have been away with my Parents and before I left, I agreed to stay with her for a few days on my return.”

Miss Prentice smiled when Jenny entered with her tray.

“Thank you, Jenny, a word before you go.”

 Stood just outside the door Miss Prentice gave Jenny her instructions. Jenny smirked and curtsied.

“Yes Miss, I will organise that.”

Retaking her seat Miss Prentice offered Abigail her tea.

“Well, I am sorry to tell you that Miss Caroline is not receiving visitors, she is undergoing a therapy of sorts, requested by Lady Drake before she left to go overseas. Lady Drakes instructions were most specific, the therapy must not be disturbed. Seeing you, well, a lot of the good work could be undone, you understand that don’t you.”

Abigail took a sip of her tea.

“Therapy? Therapy, what nonsense Caroline does not need therapy no more than I do, I demand to see her.”

Miss Prentice stared sternly and unnervingly at the young Mistress sat opposite. Surly, arrogant, filled with assumed superiority, where had she seen that before? Miss Prentice softened her expression to a smile

“Demand, indeed, I am afraid it is out of the question, you must return when Lady Drake arrives back at Longwater, she is due to return at the end of the month.”

Context is everything and Abigail, befitting of her pompous self- entitlement, completely ignored the maid who timidly and without a word entered the room curtsied and collected the tray containing the drained teacups.  The maid leaving has anonymously as she had entered, like any good maid should.

Miss Prentice was all but purring with satisfaction at her contrived encounter between the two friends.

Abigail ignored the maid, why wouldn’t she, it was just a servant. If seeing Abigail had stirred any recollections within Bella, whether she recognised Abigail or not, she said nothing, no hint of recognition. Caroline’s wicked and traumatic indoctrinations, fear of reprisal? Whatever had caused Bella to blank Abigail and meekly serve her Mistress and guest, it proved an impromptu validation of the desecration of the English rose cast down to live amongst the weeds of the meadow.   

“Well Miss Abigail I would not wish to keep you unnecessarily.”

Abigail stood in a huff.

“Well, I am not pleased, not pleased at all and I find your attitude most disrespectful. I am the daughter of Sir Standish-Jones and I will have words with Lady Drake about your manner when she returns.”

The service bell rung Mrs Dillon appeared and showed Miss Abigail to the door who left cursing under her breath. How dare that woman speak to me like that. I know Caroline is here I know she is.

Bella stood in the shadows at the far end of the hallway with tray in hand watching the visitor leave. What was it about that young lady? Something, but what? Her idle thoughts did not last long a hard slap across her cheeks from Jenny almost sent the tray spiralling to the floor and sharp words brought her mind back to its reality.

“Don’t idle girl get that crockery back into the kitchens and washed.”

Lady Drake had written to Miss Prentice advising that she would be back in England on the twenty sixth of the month and should be arriving at Longwater the following weekend. She was anxious to know if progress had been made with her stepdaughter but of course feared the worst. In anticipation of Miss Prentice having already left Longwater, having given up on the challenge of curbing Caroline’s excesses, the letter had been originally delivered to Miss Prentices home address and forwarded to Longwater manor. Lady Drake was aware and complicit in Miss Prentices plans to have Caroline dressed and treated as an adolescent but nothing more than that.

A rustling and shadows moving in the bushes of the grounds of Longwater manor aroused the hounds, a stag? a fox? A brief period of disturbance before the dogs settled and their barking faded into the stillness of the cool night air.

Miss Prentice peered out into the gloom before drawing the drapes of her chamber windows and settling into the comfort of her bed. 

Subscribe to Lady2Maid Blog Newsletter