Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 2.

by Jackie J

Chapter 2

The first morning of her second week, Constance waited for her maid, her Mistress, to take breakfast. She had been a busy bee that morning, up early putting pen to paper with her plans. A letter to the bank, one to her attorney, some notes to her close friends and of course the one to her maid.

Her Mistress was late, the previous week she had been out on the terrace much earlier than this. She would have seen the letter and read it. Perhaps Constance had misjudged the whole situation? What if her maid had decided not to follow her lead? Not willing to proceed? She had been clear in her letter: Lady Summerfield was away travelling, leaving Jennifer, her maid, in charge, confirming her the Mistress of Stag Head Manor. Maud was just a maid, a new maid.

Maud returned to the kitchen convinced she had frightened her maid, gone too far, ruined everything too much too soon. Was it necessary, doing what she had? Constance had thought all the risk her own, putting herself into the hands of her maid like she had. With what had happened the previous week, Constance never gave a thought that the opportunity for such total control of her Mistress would be too much for her maid. All her contrivance would seem to have been for nothing.

The letters! Constance was in a mild state of panic. The post! If her maid was not willing to procced, she would have to stop the letters. The post delivery and collection were always on time, like clockwork. Constance was out in the hallway scurrying to the door tugging at the tapes of her apron: the postman could not see her dressed like she was, like a maid. Breathing heavy, Constance saw the outline of the postman through the frosted glass of the door, she was too late. Constance just stood staring at the door.

The thoughts of her maid having reconsidered the arrangement, of not wishing to continue, were unfounded. Sharp words from the foot of the stairs brought an end to such speculation.

“MAUD, what are you doing? Where is my breakfast, girl?”

Maud turned and immediately curtsied hiding her relief that her maid was to continue to be her mistress.

“Sorry, Mistress, I thought, erm I, I was just…”

Jennifer smirked at her apologetic mistress fumbling to retie the tapes of her apron.

“I don’t want your excuses, girl. Get back in the kitchen and bring out my breakfast.”

Another curtsy and Maud headed to the kitchen.

During the past week Jennifer had been feeling her way supervising her Mistress. The duties she had organised for her maid were light and not really demanding. She had had little cause to raise her voice or chastise her. That first meaningful admonishment of her maid felt good, empowering, and, strangely, quite natural.

Back in the kitchen, Maud finished off the preparation of her mistress’s breakfast and was soon out on the terrace serving the same. There was no mention of the letter Lady Summerfield had written to Jennifer and Maud’s day of service continued.

Monday was the main laundry day and with sheets and clothing out on the lines in the backyard Maud was about to start preparing lunch for her Mistress.

The call bell rang from the study and, wiping her hands on her apron, Maud left the kitchen to make her way there. A knock on the study door, Maud entered and curtsied.

“You called for me, Mistress?

Jennifer was sat comfortably behind the desk and beckoned her maid forward to stand in front of her. So many times Jennifer herself had stood just where her mistress, her maid, was now standing. Jennifer had had time to consider the letter Lady Summerfield had written to her and what Lady Summerfield had set in train with the letters she had sent to the bank and her attorney. Jennifer had been given carte blanche to indefinitely assume the role of mistress at Stag Head Manor and to use her once mistress for her maid. Jennifer had reconciled her reservations and decided to take Lady Summerfield at her word. Lady Constance Summerfield she may have been, but what stood meekly and aproned before her now, by its own contrivance, was Maud Williams, a common maid.

Jennifer would consummate the new covenant between Lady Summerfield and herself by confirming that she had fully understood the intentions of Lady Summerfield and allude to an extended period of servitude for Maud, the once Mistress of Stag Head Manor.

“Yes, Maud I did. I have some news to share with you. Lady Summerfield has chosen to travel and will be away from the manor, for how long I am unsure, but I believe it will be for quite some time. Yes, quite some time. Lady Summerfield left some specific instructions, one of which is, that given your satisfactory probationary period, you are to remain in the service of Stag Head Manor, to be the maid here until she returns. I myself have been asked to continue in the role of Mistress here at the manor. I understand that the maid you are replacing was most proficient and I will expect no less from you. One other thing. I prefer to be addresses as Madame rather than Mistress. Be mindful of that. Is that understood, girl?

Constance stood looking across the desk at her maid, her Mistress, who sat serene in her breezy finery. She looked so at ease in the chair that she herself had sat in issuing her instructions. Any lingering doubts about her maid’s intentions, and indeed enthusiasm for the continuation of their role reversal, were erased by her authoritative tone and words. Referring so matter of fact to Lady Summerfield in the third person, that Lady Summerfield would be away for quite some time. She wanted this, pleaded for this, orchestrated this. Constance shivered nervously in anticipation and contemplation of what her disenfranchisement from being the lady of the manor would bring. How long to be kept the maid at Stag Head Manor? Quite some time? The confirmation of her being taken indefinitely into the service of her once maid filled her mind with debilitating imaginings.

Maud, her hands placed across her apron lowered her gaze and curtsied, a humble tremor of willing capitulation to her situation in her voice.

“Yes Madame.”

Jennifer hid her amusement at her Mistress's projection of such unrestrained servility. How she must really want this! It was a mystery why, but that was not Jennifer’s concern.

“Very well, don’t linger, go about your duties, girl.”

Another curtsy and Maud left to continue preparing her mistress’s lunch.

Maid Maud spent the afternoon pressing the laundry, taking pleasure from forming the sharp creases that were required. Blouses, dresses, and skirts once her own, could not have been presented any better for her mistress.

Wednesday and retrieving the post from the box Maud saw the letters addressed to Miss Jennifer Richards and, walking back down the hallway, was separating them from her own mail, the letters addressed to herself, to Lady Summerfield.

Jennifer stood imposingly at the end of the hallway wearing a beautiful floral dress, one of Lady Summerfield’s finest.

“What have you got there, give those to me.”

Maud handed the letters addressed to Miss Jennifer Richards to her Mistress, keeping hold of the ones that were addressed to Lady Summerfield.

“What are you doing Maud, all of them, give them to me.”

That sharp tone from her Mistress resonated with Maud and she meekly offered up Lady Summerfield’s post to her mistress.

“Maud, you know Lady Summerfield is away travelling, I will deal with all the post. Now, on your way, don’t get behind with your rota.”

What could Maud do? Jennifer was right, she was the Mistress of the manor, those letters were addressed to Lady Summerfield, the absent Mistress, certainly not for the housemaid Maud, that she had chosen to be. Two of the letters addressed to Jennifer she had recognised from the envelopes. The bank and her solicitor. A for the others she was unsure.

Polishing in the dining room, Maud considered the earlier issue with the post and how Lady Summerfield’s private letters had been confiscated. Surely her maid would not open Lady Summerfield’s post, surely not. Maud smiled to herself buffing the large dining table to a glistening sheen. Jenny was no longer the maid, was she? Jennifer was the mistress of Stag Head Manor. It was she who was the maid.

Jennifer had been in the study for much of the morning. A letter of authority from the bank, a letter from the solicitor accompanied with a maid’s contract for Maud Williams both sat on the desk in front of her.

Jennifer could not help but chuckle at the polite letters addressed to her from some of Lady Summerfield’s acquaintances. All much of a sameness, like the one from Miss Abigail. Dear Jennifer, I received a letter informing me that you are looking after Stag Head Manor whilst Constance is away travelling, if you have time, please feel free to call on me.

Jennifer sat back contemplating what Lady Summerfield had set in motion. It was nothing less than self-entrapment, entrapment into the life of a maid. The original letter she held, thanking her for taking over being the Mistress of Stag Head Manor, whilst Lady Summerfield was away travelling. The letter confirming that she, Jennifer Richards, would be in charge of the manor until Lady Summerfield returned. The authority from the bank for Jennifer to access funds, and this, the letter and accompanying maid’s contract for Maud Williams from the attorney, Lady Summerfield’s solicitor. There could be no doubt now: her Mistress was not looking for just another brief dalliance within the apron, she had contrived this to be so much more than just that.

Lady Summerfield had opened the door for Jennifer to exploit her masochistic self-deprecation. Would Jennifer be willing, strong enough, to close that door and lock her new maid Maud, into a world of domestic servitude? Perhaps this is what Lady Summerfield ultimately wants and this desire is at the root of all this?

Jennifer spent the afternoon out on the terrace pondering her options. William, the groom, handyman-cum-gardener would be returning at the end of the week. Lady Summerfield must have known that. What will he make of this nonsense, this madness he will have to be told? Then there are the trades people making deliveries. Lady Summerfield’s friends. A cold shiver ran through Jennifer thinking of Lady Summerfield’s half-sister. What if she found out?

William was the first problem, but Jennifer thought that through and had a solution. The trades people calling should not really be an issue, they had not had direct dealings with Lady Summerfield, certainly not whilst Jennifer had been at the manor. Seeing Jennifer being the lady of the manor may be a surprise, but Lady Summerfield was away travelling wasn’t she? Friends, not that there were many, and they rarely visited the manor anyway. Jennifer would take up some of the invitations that she had received to introduce herself and confirm Lady Summerfield’s absence. Jennifer would need to make up a credible back story for her explaining why Constance had asked her to look after the manor. She would think of something. That just left Marjorie, Marjorie Wilberforce, Constance’s half-sister. Jennifer had only met her once, an awful domineering woman. She lived in the wilds of Scotland and had actually sworn never to set foot in Stag Head Manor again following that last visit. No, she would not be a problem. Jennifer laughed out loud at the unlikely prospect of that brut of a woman seeing Lady Summerfield, her half-sister, aproned having willingly become the contracted maid at Stag Head Manor.

Having thought things through Jennifer was feeling ever more confident of her position, that of Mistress at the manor. There was just one missing piece of paperwork she would need to indemnify her against her Mistress's perverse desires. That she would prepare before presenting her maid with the contract that had been prepared by the attorney.

 

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