Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

After dinner the Master and Mistress of Bracken Hall were talking in the parlour and James was anxious to know how preparations for the gala were progressing, it was just over a week away.

Lucinda sighed.

“Well, the Jacksons won’t be with us this year they are travelling, and Patricia is doubtful but everyone else responded, so a full house all the same. I have one fly in the ointment that I am trying to resolve. Madeley still hasn’t found a replacement maid, and the temporary maid from Mayfair, Milly, leaves at the end of the week. I have told Madeley that we can’t be short staffed for the gala weekend, and I am hopeful of keeping this temporary maid here. Milly is good, in fact very good, according to Madeley, what do you think of her?”

James tops up his whiskey from the decanter.

“Can’t say I know the woman, our maids all look the bloody same to me, devoid of personality, yes Sir, no Sir, like penguins in their uniforms about their work. I know Gwyneth and Betty of course but they are different, I rarely see the others.”

Lucinda takes the opportunity to have a dig at her husband about the amount of time he spends away from the hall.

“Perhaps if you spent more time at home, you would know more about the goings on here?”

James laughs.

“Lucinda, that is unfair, you know I have the mills and mine to run, and being the member of parliament, I have to travel to London, how many times have we gone over this?”

Lucinda has made her point and smiles sitting back into the comfort of her large leather chair and continues.

“You will have seen her serving table with the other downstairs maid. I must say she is different to any domestic I have ever known. Gwyneth couldn’t read for me last week and Madeley suggested the temporary girl. Remarkable, she reads perfectly, Gwyneth stumbles on some of the words but not this Milly woman, it was flawless, and she speaks no differently to you or I. Seems the poor woman had a better life but for some reason was left destitute and put herself to the apron, better than whoring I suppose.”

James drains his glass showing little interest in Madeley’s maid’s but comments all the same.

“If this maid is so good, why don’t you get Madeley to make her permanent, destitute you say, she would be grateful of such an opportunity for her, I am sure.”

Unaware that my future at Bracken Hall is under discussion it is mid-morning and there’s a visitor at Bracken Hall. Told to leave my cleaning I prepare tea and biscuits. My tray prepared I enter the parlour and curtsy then stare at the visitor seated with Mistress and Mrs Madeley? Mrs Burtonshaw? Agnes? What is she doing here? I am unsure how to react, what to say, anything? I say nothing, knowing it is not my place, and laying the tray on the low table I pour the tea before standing back to curtsy.

Agnes looks up and smiles.

“Milly how nice to see one of my maids at work, your Mistress and Mrs Madeley have just been telling me what a good maid you have proved to be during your time at Bracken Hall. I will speak with you before I leave.”

Another curtsy I politely respond.

“Thank you, Miss.”

Back to my cleaning I am surprised that Agnes is at Bracken Hall, why would she be here?  Still with my time at Bracken Hall about to end, perhaps Mrs Burtonshaw is here to collect payment for my services. Or, after what Jenny told me, about the household still requiring a maid when I leave, Agnes could be arranging for one of her other maids to take over from me.

Mrs Burtonshaw smiles and reflects on what she witnessed with her maid Milly.

Having watched Miss Williams, well what was Miss Williams enter the room, and offer her meaningful deference then serve tea, who would ever suspect that she is not the common maid that she portrays, and certainly not the Mistress of Crestley House.

Sat sipping my tea, Dorothy tells me of her conversation with Milly. How she likes working at Bracken Hall and that she had been told how Milly had become destitute forcing her to the apron, and that she had nowhere to call home. I want to laugh at the preposterousness of what the wealthy Miss Williams had confided in my friend Dorothy. The silly woman, having so convincingly embraced the persona of a common maid, and impressed the housekeeper and Mistress of Bracken Hall, certainly beyond my expectations, they are not only considering an extension of one month, but they also want to keep her! Why wouldn’t they, good maids are so hard to find and, believing of Miss Williams fictitious circumstances, they assume the maid would obviously welcome the security of such an opportunity. For any of my other maids, for what is being offered, not an inconsiderable sum, I would not hesitate to transfer its contract to this household, but Miss Williams, Milly? That would be taking her delusions of subjugation a step too far. However, an extension of a further month at Bracken Hall, why not.

The extension to Milly’s contact formalised, and monies having changed hands, I ask to see my maid to inform her that she will be staying at Bracken Hall for a further month.

Later in the morning, feeling quite satisfied at having removed a particularly stubborn stain from the hallway, I am called to Mrs Madeley’s office. I knock, enter, and curtsy before noticing it is Mrs Burtonshaw who is sat at the desk not Mrs Madeley?

Agnes waves me forward to take a seat in front of the desk.

“Agnes, what a surprise, I did not expect to see you here at Bracken Hall, what brings you here?”

Mrs Burtonshaw looks at me sternly and reminds me that calling her Agnes is not appropriate under the circumstances. I accept the mild rebuke, she is right of course, and I sit attentive whilst she explains the reason she is at Bracken Hall.

“Why am I here, I am here because of you Milly, you have made quite an impression with Mrs Madeley and the Mistress. I have just spent the last hour listening to them extoll the virtues of their temporary maid.”

I smile and smooth down my apron quite proud that Mistress and Mrs Madeley think so highly of me.

“Well, that is good isn’t it, good for you, for your business?”

Mrs Burtonshaw sits back and laughs.

“Yes, under normal circumstances yes, it would be very good, but I now have a problem, a big problem of your making that you are going to have to help me with.”

Still pleased with myself, at Mistress and Mrs Madeley’s positive comments about me, I have no issue with offering my help to Mrs Burtonshaw. But for Mrs Burtonshaw I would not be here, have been able to live the life of a common maid like I have.

“Of course, anything, I owe you that for what you have done for me, what is it.”

Mrs Burtonshaw sits back in her chair maintaining her aura of authority.

“Anything, that’s good, I am glad to hear that Milly, Mrs Madeley, Bracken Hall, have been unable to find a replacement maid and seeing that I have no other maids available, you will be remaining a maid at Bracken Hall for a further month. In fact, Mrs Madeley was quite insistent it was you, with you having made such a good impression.”

I laugh nervously.

“What, you are not serious, you can’t be? You are, aren’t you, my goodness no, I can’t stay here, I can’t, I must get back to Crestley House”

Mrs Burtonshaw leans forward and tells me why I am to remain at Bracken Hall.

Having listened to the plausible reasons for me, Milly Brannigan, to remain a maid at Bracken Hall for a further month, each of my reasons for not doing so are eloquently dispelled. What pressing business requires Miss Williams to return to Crestley House? None, of course. I, Miss Williams that is, will write to Miss Renwick, Miss Williams housekeeper, informing her Miss Williams will not be returning as planned, having met someone, and will be extending her time away to travel abroad, the housekeeper would understand. A similar letter to Miss Williams bank giving Miss Renwick access to more funds. Mrs Burtonshaw would ensure the letters were posted and delivered. The hotel booking, no problem, Mrs Burtonshaw would cancel and also collect the trunk, left at the railway station for safe keeping. Mrs Burtonshaw had an answer for everything, everything to keep me aproned at Bracken Hall, a fait accompli. Of course, Mrs Burtonshaw would continue to say nothing of who I really am or what I am doing, masquerading as a maid, with the veiled threat that she may not, unless I agree. Mrs Burtonshaw’s reference to myself, Miss Williams, in the third person, is amusingly strange, but in such circumstance, sat here like I am, to all intent and purpose Milly Brannigan, it somehow feels right.  

Mrs Burtonshaw had obviously already agreed with Mistress and Mrs Madeley that her Mayfair maid would be remaining at Bracken Hall for a further month. Her Mayfair maid, yes, her maid, what I wanted to be, what I have become, what I am. Would a mere maid even think to question where she is put to work?

Am I really going to allow this woman, Mrs Burtonshaw, to control my life like this? Conditioned by my month a working maid and dressed in my uniform of service I have sat and listened to her plans for me. My resistance to such manipulation having grown weaker whilst each of my concerns raised, for me for not returning to my life at Crestley House, having been convincingly dismissed. At the outset of our conversation, albeit dressed in a maid’s uniform, I was briefly Miss Millicent Williams again, but now, confronted with the inevitability of remaining in service at Bracken Hall, and all that that conjures in my mind, I find it is increasingly maid Milly Brannigan who sits receptive to Mrs Burtonshaw’s plans for her, for me.

Jenny’s prophetic words from the other day, of being kept a maid at Bracken Hall, and the thoughts they stirred within me, have not been far from my mind since Mrs Burtonshaw’s first mention that I was to remain here. Those exquisite emotions, that vision of my entrapment raised within me, now uncontrollably flooding my mind once again.

Such thoughts should of course be dispelled but, unlike the other day, I find I have no will to suppress them. It isn’t right I know it isn’t right, but I cannot help myself, my inner demons have me held hostage to my lucid imaginings of not willing but enforced servitude. Only for another month but the thoughts of being held here, aproned, kept a maid, and, by my own collusion, denying access to my privileged life, fuel my furtive imagination overwhelming all reason.

I stare across at Mrs Burtonshaw who sits tall and elegant. My deceived mind numbed and dismissive of consequence, for a deepening continuance of our shared conspiracy, I surrender myself into the persona of maid Milly and the authority and governance of Mrs Burtonshaw.

“If I must then I must, I am not one of your maids, a Mayfair maid, and as such have no say in where I am to be placed to work. Mrs Madeley wants Milly to stay at Bracken Hall and you have explained how Miss Williams affairs are to be attended to. There is no reason why Milly should not remain a maid here at Bracken Hall.”

Agnes hides her amusement

I smile at Miss Williams, more maid than Mistress that is for sure, she looks so pathetic in her uniform and her demeanour, so humble so malleable. A month a working maid here at Bracken Hall certainly had its effect on her. From the start of our conversation, telling her that she would be staying on at Bracken Hall, from her confident tone, how quickly she shrank back into her maid’s persona. The concerns she raised, about not returning to her life of privilege at Crestley House for a further month, so easily dismissed, at the end offering only token resistance to her continued life a maid.

Then, just then when she looked at me with that meek expression before speaking. Her words not those of Miss Williams, to reluctantly agree to be kept a maid for a further month, or even to denounce such a proposition, but in the embodiment of the maid she portrays. “I am one of your maids, a Mayfair maid and as such have no say in where I am to be placed to work.” The woman is surely mad or on the way to losing her mind. If a month a working maid leaves her like this, then another month here, under the supervision and control of Mrs Madeley, who knows how much of Miss Williams will be appropriated, deconstructed, and lost into the mind of maid Milly Brannigan? I chuckle under my breath, much easier to consider the aproned maid before me to be Milly rather than the Mistress of Crestley House, and I suspect those thoughts are becoming increasingly shared and imbedded in the confused mind of this maid.

I have no problem pandering to her delusions in fact I have a vested interest in fanning the flames of her fantasy. Since I first indulged her perverse desires, having her for my maid in her own home, I have considered the possibilities. The backstory she has professed to this household is intriguing indeed. Destitute, homeless, and put to the apron, poor Milly Brannigan.

“That’s right Milly you are my maid, a Mayfair maid, and grateful you should be, that you are to be kept in the service of Bracken Hall. You will now write the letters for Miss Williams that we discussed.”

 I place sheets of headed writing paper, that I have obtained from one of my maids working at the Maritime hotel, in front of Milly along with a pen, ink, and blotter.

“Write your letters and leave the rest to me I will be back shortly with Mrs Madeley, she will be most pleased you are to remain one of her maids.”

After giving me my instructions, Mrs Burtonshaw leaves me alone in Mrs Madeley’s office having provided me with writing materials.

Willingly drawn into the continuance of this conspiracy, I have little difficulty in concocting meaningful phrases to convince Miss Renwick of my continued absence, and the bank to provide additional funds for her. It gives access to my main accounts so money should not be an issue. clever of Mrs Burtonshaw to have obtained letter headed paper from the hotel I said I would be staying in. The letters signed, blotted, and read through with a smile I place them in their envelopes. 

The door to Mrs Madeley’s office opens and Mrs Burtonshaw and Mrs Madeley enter. Quick to my feet I curtsy, and Mrs Madeley smiles at me.

“Mrs Burtonshaw tells me that you are to remain in service here at Bracken Hall Milly. A good opportunity for a maid like you, I know Jenny will be pleased, so keep up your good work. Before you go back to your duties you will serve us tea Milly.”

A bobbed curtsy I head down to the kitchens to prepare tea for Mrs Madeley and Mrs Burtonshaw.

Milly leaves and Agnes collects the two letters left by Milly. Mrs Madeley taking her seat behind her desk sighs.

“Thank you, Agnes, you have got me out of a hole with your maid Milly, getting maids, good ones like Milly is so hard these days, you are lucky to have that one. Mistress will be disappointed that she couldn’t convince you to part with her, to keep her here permanently, I cannot blame you though, she must be a good earner for you. Where did you find her, I saw from her records she has been with you for a couple of years?”

Agnes laughed.

“Trust me Dorothy, if I told you, you would not believe me.”

Dorothy smiled.

“Same old Agnes keeping your cards close to our chest, no matter she is mine for another month, I should be able to find a replacement in that time.”

Tea served to Mrs Burtonshaw and Mrs Madeley with little said, I find Jenny in the dining room preparing for serving lunch. I tell her that I am to be retained for another month and she smiles before embracing me.

“I am so pleased for you Milly, you deserve it, you are a good maid.”

The reason I have been kept on at Bracken Hall becomes clear during the coming week. The annual Autumn Gala, a Grande Ball held at Bracken Hall. The routines I have become familiar with are put to one side and I spend a lot of time with Rosy, Rosemary her real name, preparing the guest rooms on the upper landings. Sewing is not one of my strong skills, but new curtains are required in some of the chambers, and I learn as I go. Rosy laughs at my initial fumbling but together we eventually have all the rooms pristine, aired, and ready.

I have been told that I will be assisting Rosy when the guests arrive but for now, I am back working with Jenny in the main hall both down on our hands and knees polishing the large parquet floor. Cleaning, scrubbing, polishing, beating rugs, washing windows we maids have even been put to work helping tidy the gardens. My back and knees ache but there is little respite from our labours. Everything must be perfect, everything must be ready, and by late into Thursday evening it is. Whilst we are all eager for our bunks, Mrs Madeley gathers all the staff together in the kitchens.

Mrs Madeley stands on a small ledge at the back of the Kitchens and speaks to us all

“Tomorrow guests will start arriving for the annual gala, those who have been at Bracken Hall for some time will know what is expected of them. For those not familiar know this, you will do whatever it takes to ensure the gala weekend passes off without incident. Tomorrow morning at parade you will be given your duties and you will carry out those duties to the best of your abilities.”

Mrs Madeley points to the leather strap hanging on the wall.

“Any of you, and I mean anyone who lets me down knows what to expect, don’t make me shake the dust of that.”

Mrs Madeley steps down from the ledge and smiles.

“Well done to you all for the preparations and I will see you in morning, now off to bed and get some sleep we have a busy weekend ahead of us.”

 Jenny is soon fast asleep, and I lay in my bunk staring up into the blackness wondering what the weekend ahead will be like. A Grande Ball, pretty and glamorous gowns, handsome men, laughter, and frivolity. I have been a guest at such events many times, but now, for a humble maid, things will be very different.

I have seen the larders being stocked so fine fayre indeed, perhaps our supper that night will be blessed with some offerings from the tables. I rub my tummy and smile. Food is certainly not an issue for a maid at Bracken House, I have never eaten so well, plain, and stodgy but cook makes it very tasty. I am reminded to seek out different dresses to the ones I took when I arrived, ones with a more generous cut to the sleeves, waist, and hips.

I have never been overly concerned with my weight or figure or looks for that matter, but I know I have put on a few pounds, despite the physical work. I consider other changes, nothing drastic, more subtle, but my face is a little fuller and my cheeks have a glow. My hands, my poor hands, I have given up being concerned with those, short nails are of my own doing, practical for scrubbing out the grime, that’s fine, but the roughness of my skin and scrapped knuckles, they are working hands for sure. I smile, why wouldn’t they be, working hands for a working maid, what else should I expect.

Sleep comes and a new day dawned

I was right to consider finding replacement dresses, and thankfully Mrs Madeley agreed. the ones I now have are much more comfortable, a little baggy but better that than the previous tightness.

Mrs Madeley wants her maids to look their best for the gala weekend and we sit in turn to have our hair trimmed. All the maids at Bracken Hall have the same short bob style and now, so do I. The hair style is nothing in itself, but it does make me feel and give the appearance of being more a part of Mrs Madeley’s domestic staff. Increasingly there is becoming less and less to discern myself, Milly Brannigan, from any of her other maids.

Having been given our duties for the day, I stand behind Mrs Madeley with Rosy in the hallway at the main entrance ready to attend to the first of the guests arriving for the gala weekend.