Bound to Serve Read online

She stood. “Besides,” she said. “Beauty fades and leaves us all withered in time, like those poor bare trees. Look at the birds on the branches, how they peck for a little food. Shall I share a recipe I used to use to feed them?”

  That snapped Colin out of his doldrums. The two of them collected Harry from the nursery where he was building a castle from blocks and headed to the kitchen. Elspeth sang Irish songs to them as she melted fat in a pot and added millet and other seeds she’d gleaned from the fields on her weekly walks. The boys watched as she added the seeds to the melted fat and then poured the mix into a wooden mold she helped the boys to fashion from scrap wood.

  “Now what?” Harry asked.

  “Now we wait,” she said. “The fat has to harden and when it does we hang it in a tree for the wee birdies to eat.”

  Colin climbed into a chair and put his folded arms on the table, staring at the mold as if his gaze could make the fat congeal faster.

  Elspeth cleaned up the mess, feeling a bittersweet stab in her heart as she went about her tasks. She felt so comfortable here; they boys were so easy to converse with, such lovely warm little lads. It took great effort to remind herself of her own advice – she was here by Clifford Harker’s leave alone. Should he – as his son feared – decide he no longer wanted her in his house then she’d be gone as quickly as she’d arrived.

  She tried to think on that for a moment, on what it would be like to leave those little boys forever, to never see them again. To never see their father. She pushed the thought from her mind; it hurt too much.

  In mid-afternoon, Clifford returned. Colin was cool to him still, but Harry ran to him when he entered. His father hoisted him up with smile and ruffled his hair. He seemed to be in exceptionally find spirits.

  “Be happy for him,” Elspeth told herself when she felt a stab of disappointment.

  “Elspeth.” His tone was light, even with her. She turned.

  “Have we a very fat turkey?” he asked.

  “We have three, sir,” she answered. “I fed them this morning.”

  “Ah, good. Prepare one for supper tonight. We’ll be having a guest for dinner.”

  “Very well, sir,” she said.

  Elspeth did not ask who, and she could tell he was expecting her to. Why? So he could scold her for prying into matters that were none of her concern?

  So Prudence Alder was coming to dinner? Elspeth hoped she would not be accompanied by the preacher’s wife.

  “Just one guest?” she asked.

  “Just one,” he said.

  She tried to hide her relief. She hated the way Mrs. Habersham made her feel.

  “I’ll see to it once I get the boys started on their lessons,” she said.

  “No,” he said. “I’ll see to their schooling today, Elspeth. I want this dinner to have your full attention.”

  “As you wish.”

  She turned and donned the apron she used whenever she had to butcher one of the fowl in the yard for a meal. It was not her favorite task, but a necessary one from time to time. Over the apron she put on an older cape and went outside.

  Elspeth would rather the older man who worked intermittently in Clifford Harker’s employ be about to dispense with the turkey. But he was not.

  She picked up a pan of grain and walked to behind the shed. A dusting of snow had fallen overnight and her felt crunched on the ground. Elspeth shook the pan and the turkeys came forward, a tom and two fat hens.

  Her heart lurched. The birds trusted her. That made it harder. She eyed the hens. There were two – an older hen and a younger one. The older one was larger but the younger one would be more tender and more than adequate for the purpose.

  “Sorry lass,” she said, grabbing the bird as it began pecking the food she dropped. The other turkeys scattered and flew into the trees, squawking their betrayal as they went.

  She made quick work of ending the bird’s life, thanking it quietly for its sacrifice before breaking its neck and severing its head. Elspeth turned away as she hung the body from a hook so it could drain as she filled a cauldron with water and built a fire underneath.

  Elspeth stood looking at the swaying trees as the water heated to a boil. The sky was going gray. More snow was coming. It was going to be a hard winter.

  Elspeth fetched the turkey and plunged its carcass into the boiling water. Removing it, she plucked the feathers which landed in a pile at her side. She plunged the body quickly two more times before hanging and gutting it. When all was said and done it was surrealistically unrecognizable as the creature that had pecked at her feet every day for the last few months.

  As she carried it inside she noticed the remaining hen and tom scratching for the remains of the corn. They’d already seemed to resign themselves to the fact that things just happened, that life goes on.

  “You’re smarter than the lot of us folk,” she mused to the birds as she went indoors.

  Colin and Harry ran up to her as she entered, oblivious to the role their gentle nurse had just played in the carnage outside.

  “Can we feed the birds?” Harry asked, jumping about.

  “In good time,” she said. “First I must prepare this one for dinner tonight.”

  Colin walked over and poked the turkey with his finger. “Seems an awful lot for just us,” he observed.

  “It’s not just for you,” she replied. “Your father has a guest coming for dinner.”

  Colin scowled. “Her?”

  Elspeth sighed. She loved Colin, but if he were rude then Clifford would blame her. She walked over and knelt in front of the lad.

  “Yes, her,” she said. “But you’re not to call her that. She’s Miss Alder to you until she gives you leave to call her something less formal. And you will be nice to her, Colin. You will.”

  “Why should I?” The child’s eyes narrowed in defiance.

  “Because if you aren’t on your best behavior you will shame me.”

  His face fell. For all his bravado, Colin was a loving little boy and she knew then that he would do nothing to disappoint her.

  “Now,” she said. “Let us go and hang this food for the birdies.”

  Elspeth bundled the boys up and took them outside. They walked around the house twice before the brother could agree on just the right place to hang the suet block. Finally they agreed on a stout fir tree within sight of the nursery window.

  “When Christmas gets closer we will decorate it with cookies and other good things for the birds, to feed them through the winter,” she said.

  “Do you think Daddy will help us?” Harry said, pointing up. Elspeth looked in the direction he indicated, to the upstairs window. Clifford Harker was standing there in his bedroom, staring down at them.

  She looked away. “I do not know,” she said. “If he wants to he’s welcome to join us.”

  Harry took her hand. “We could all do it together then.”

  Elspeth swallowed the lump in her throat. The kids were not going to make this dinner any easier for her.

  “Come along now. Let’s go in,” she said.

  Elspeth sent the brothers to play in the nursery as she continued preparing the meals. She put a pan of chestnuts on to roast, baked bread, prepared potatoes and fall greens and peeled apples for a pie.

  She was folding the pastry for a tart when she looked up to see Clifford standing at the door. He was standing awkwardly, as if he wanted to say something but did not know how. Elspeth gave him a nod to acknowledge his presence but continued to work.

  “Elspeth,” he began. “Yesterday…”

  “…is just that,” she said, walking past him to turn the turkey which was roasting on the spit. She turned back to him, mopping the sweat from her brow. Her face was flushed from the heat of the fire and her color was high. There was no way she could know how achingly beautiful he found her at that moment, or how he wished he could stop himself from mentally preparing her to the sallow elegance of Prudence Alder.

  Prudence wasn’t unattractive. She
was tall for a woman and possessed the good bone structure of good breeding. She was well-schooled, well-spoken and sensible. She would be a good asset to him, a respectable and acceptable replacement for his lost wife. Caroline would approve.

  Or would she? Harry came barreling into the room, wrapping his arms around Elspeth’s legs and looking up at her with admiring eyes.

  “Och, child,” she said. “You almost knocked me over.”

  “Sorry,” he said, letting her go. “But I wanted you to come see the fine red bird that’s eating the food we put out for him!”

  Elspeth smiled.

  “The birds are already on it?”

  “Yes! It’s snowing and as soon as it started they came! Come see! Come see!”

  She laughed, turning her attention away from the boy’s father. “Very well,” she said. “But I can’t be away from the kitchen for long.”

  Clifford Harker watched her go and looked out the window. It was a day much like this one that his wife had died. He’d been sitting by her bed, watching her sleep and praying her labored breathing would become easier when she’d awakened and looked first at him and then out the window.

  “It’s snowing,” she said with a pained smile. “I had so hoped to take all our boys out in the snow this winter. Now our youngest lays under it and Harry will have no memories of doing such things with me.”

  “Caroline…” His voice was urgent. “Don’t say such things, wife.”

  But she’d patted his hand and tried to smile even though her eyes were filled with tears.

  “I have accepted it, now you must,” she said weakly. “And you will miss me, I know. And the boys..”

  She closed her eyes then, as if the idea of leaving them brought physical pain.

  “They will miss me, but eventually someone will come along..”

  “No!” he said, as if repulsed by the idea but she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “Just promise me that she will love the boys and that they will love her.”

  “I promise,” he had choked.

  Caroline’s hand fell away then as she slipped into unconsciousness. She died later that night, leaving her husband and surviving sons and despite her promise that time would make things better, Caroline’s absence remained an aching void.

  But he needed to marry again. And the boys needed a mother. He’d promise that he’d find a woman they would love. They loved Elspeth.

  But Caroline, for all her maternal goodness, had been a silly thing in so many ways. She was given to whimsy and for all her good breeding did not fully understand the value of a well-bred wife to her husband’s position in society. It took more than love to make a family. It took money, and respect from and within the community. Clifford knew it would take an acceptable marriage if he were retain his status in the community and continue to build his business and social reputation.

  The fact that his heart and body secretly ached for the pretty young maid in his service was a sign of his own selfishness and weaknesses. Like his sons, he needed to understand what he wanted wasn’t always what was best for him. He would court Prudence Alder, who had pleasantly surprised him earlier in the day by proving again what an educated conversationalist she was. He would build on that intellectual connection. He would remind himself of all they had in common. He would make this work.

  He had to.

  The house was filled now with the mingled scents of Elspeth’s cooking; in the kitchen the sputtering turkey continued its journey around on the spit. Cinnamon, cloves, yeast and baking apples. The turkey. I smelled like home. Caroline would have approved of that, too.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Elspeth?” he called. She needed to get the door. She needed to remember her place.

  From the nursery, Elspeth heard him call her name. She’d dressed the boys, praising Colin for getting into his dress-up clothes without fuss. Now she hurried down the stairs and to the door, smoothing her hands on her apron and checking her cap.

  Elspeth managed a smile as she opened the door.

  “Miss Alder,” she said. “Welcome.”

  Prudence smiled back. “Thank you..Elspeth, isn’t it?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Elspeth curtseyed and stepped aside, letting the woman in. Once Prudence was inside, she took her cloak.

  “Miss Alder!” Clifford came forward with an extraordinarily wide smile and took her gloved hands. “So good to have you here.

  “I was worried we’d not make it,” she said. “It’s snowing out.”

  “It is,” he said. “Your driver did well to arrive so soon.”

  “Shall I invite him in?” asked Elspeth.

  Prudence shot her an odd look.

  “No,” she said, looking from her to Clifford as if embarrassed. For him.

  “Stevens can stay in the carriage house with the horses,” she said.

  “Of course,” Clifford said. “Elspeth, please to direct him where to go.”

  Elspeth nodded and turned away so that they would not see the anger on her face. It was cold, and the carriage house had no heat. It would be hours until dinner was finished. She vowed when it was served to sneak something out to the poor man.

  She donned her own cloak and went outside where the driver sat draping the pair of horses with wool blankets.

  “It’s cold,” she said.

  He looked at her, and Elspeth smiled. The driver was an older man, with grizzled gray mutton chops. His skin was slightly pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. Before he answered her he turned away and coughed.

  “I’ve been instructed to show you to the carriage house,” she said.

  “Good,” he replied. “The beasts need cover.”

  The driver patted one of the horses affectionately on the neck. The gesture made Elspeth smile.

  “Name’s Logan,” he said. “John Logan.”

  “I’m Elspeth,” Mr. Logan.

  She turned and walked to the carriage house, holding the hem of her skirts up to avoid getting them snow-soaked. There were three inches in drifts now and it was still coming down.

  The carriage house had room for the carriage and four stalls. Two were occupied by Clifford Harker’s horses. Elspeth helped the driver unhitch and stable his horses over his objections. She told him she loved horses, and used that as her excuse to help put them up. But in truth she was noticing that the man was indeed weakened by some illness.

  It angered her. How could it be that Prudence did not notice her driver’s condition before she set out on the trip? The man looked more suited to a sickbed than a carriage seat.

  “Sit,” she said. “I’ll fetch you some blankets and something warm to drink.”

  Elspeth hurried back into the house and went into the kitchen where she washed her hands in a pot of water and then put a pot on for tea.

  “Elspeth?” Clifford Harker appeared at the door, his face tense with irritation.

  “Sir?”

  Miss Alder and I are in the parlor awaiting tea. And you dally in the carriage house?

  Elspeth sighed. “Pardon me, sir,” she said. “But your guest’s driver is ill and it’s cold in the carriage house. He needs a blanket and something warm to drink.”

  “I’ve a guest that needs seeing to,” he said. “Are you going to defy me and shirk your duties, or do I need to take a bread board to you? The lady is getting restless, and I would not appear the neglectful host.”

  She looked at him, unbelieving. “Would you rather be without compassion, then? The man is sick, my lord,” she said quietly. “For you and your guest, a moment without warmth is an inconvenience. For this driver it is a matter of suffering.”

  Clifford Harker looked as if he had snapped out of a daze. His face reddened. At first Elspeth thought it was from anger, but then she realize it was from shame. She looked away, so as not to heighten his embarrassment.

  “It will not take long for me to fetch him what he needs,” she said softly. “Chastise me if you mus
t but let me do this thing.”

  He looked back at her. “You’d be beaten for the sake of a stranger?”

  “Aye,” she said resolutely. “And pray that someone would be kind enough to do the same for me should I be in need.”

  “Be quick about it,” he said, and disappeared back into the parlor.

  Elspeth hurriedly made the man some tea. As she did she hung a blanket by the fire and before taking the warmed coverlet out filled a bed warmer with some coals. That would at least keep his feet warm.

  For his part, John Logan could not have been more appreciative. His weak eyes shone with appreciation as he hacked wetly into a handkerchief.

  “There, there, good man,” Elspeth said as she draped a blanket over him and put the bed warmer by his feet. She handed him the tea and smiled.

  “How long do you think they’ll be?” he asked. “I’m feelin’ poorly and would not have taken the job but for Ms. Alder’s insistence. She quite fancies the man of your house.”

  “I don’t know,” Elspeth replied honestly. “But I will be back to look in on you and bring another warm blanket.”

  “You are an angel,” he said, and leaned back where he was sitting, closing his dark-rimmed eyes.

  In the house, Elspeth washed her hands again. It worried her that the man was ill. She’d had some experiences with illnesses back home and her grandmother, a wise woman, had taught her to avoid the taint of sickness by avoiding touch with the sick and cleaning herself afterwards.

  Elspeth as glad that she’d covered up with her cloak and had shaken it hard in the snowy cold before bringing it back in.

  She brought tea to the parlor as directed and found Clifford and Prudence in lively conversation where they sat before the crackling fire.

  “Finally,” Prudence said. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d be having tea.”

  “My maid is compassionate,” Clifford said almost apologetically. “She was worried about your driver. She said he looked unwell and took him some blankets.”

  Prudence’s mouth twitched.

  “Really?” she asked tightly. “He’s rather old, the fellow. His coughing has served as a distraction all this week. He was coughing so hard at the market he could hardly help me in the carriage.”