By The Sea, Book One: Tess (4 page)

"Don't you be uppish with
me,
Teresa
Moran," Bridget shot back. "Anyway, I've already told you: your
father got between. He were in one corner of the harness room,
burnishing some bit of metal, when the uproar begun. The coachman
lunged for Mr. W. and they grappled and your father tried to pull
them apart and he come down a cropper for his trouble," Bridget
said with a nonchalant shrug. "When you think of it, what business
has a groom to interfere with them as are above him?" she added
spitefully.

Tess ignored the commentary. "Then who's
gone? Who's staying?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm
staying. As for who else—I'm
sure I couldn't say. Anyway, you're to go directly to Mrs.
Bracken's room," Bridget said to Tess, "and if I was you I should
keep my lips buttoned close up when I was in there."

"And if it's advice I want, I'll certainly
know where to turn. Good afternoon to you, Bridget," Tess said, in
a tone which allowed absolutely no room for another opinion.

****

The last time Tess had been in the
housekeeper's private apartments was when she'd been interviewed
for a position with the Winwards five months earlier, in the house
on Fifth Avenue. The Moran family had just emerged from Ellis
Island armed with letters of recommendation from Lady Meller. The
letters were an unlooked-for act of kindness on Lady Meller's part,
because Tess's mother, a cook, had earlier been found guilty by a
court of assizes of stealing whatever spirits were not locked away
in the Meller pantry and drinking them. (Mrs. Moran was often drunk
and an uneven cook as a result, but this was not within the
province of the court to punish.) Sir Meller, a fair man but
unrelenting, had insisted on dismissal, and Lady Meller had
softened the blow by writing accolades for everyone.

Mrs. Moran had died aboard ship on her way
to America, and the family's grief was cut short by the need to
find work. A cook was far and away the best paid member of a
domestic staff; without Mrs. Moran, the family's prospects were
grim. Still, there were always slots to fill in the larger houses,
and the Winwards had more slots than most. To William Moran, who
had been a smithy on the Meller estate, quite naturally fell the
responsibilities of the groom, with young Will close at hand as
stableboy. Maggie was assigned to the laundry, but Tess was offered
a choice: still-room maid or laundry maid. She'd hesitated, torn
between the higher, more appealing tasks of the housekeeper's
assistant and the grueling duties of a laundry maid. She chose to
work close to Maggie, of course; and Mrs. Bracken never got over
the perceived slight. Mrs. Bracken remembered everything: every
little inefficiency, every little mistake. Tess's mother would not
have lasted out the week.

The younger maids were afraid of Mrs.
Bracken, and the older ones resented her. No one had ever been
favored with a soft smile or a kind word from this most thorough of
professionals, which was why Tess approached the interview as she
would a walk along a high wire.

Mrs. Bracken was seated at a large oak desk
which was tucked into an alcove in the apartment. She motioned to
Tess to take a chair alongside.

"You know, of course, of the madness that
overcame the staff, Tess?" Her expression was haggard but
businesslike.

"Some of it, ma'am. Bridget told me."

"Oh—Bridget! Believe very little of what
that magpie says. And for heaven's sake, don't pass on any of her
version of events; it would be most disloyal to Mrs. Winward. You
understand, of course, that changes must be made affecting you and
your family. It is most important that the staff be set to running
smoothly again: a large party of guests is due tomorrow—indeed,
some have already arrived—who will stay in anticipation of The
Breakers Ball next week."

"Yes, ma'am."
Changes affecting you and
your family.

"A new butler will take over within the
week, a Mr. Ransom, who comes highly recommended. In the meantime,"
Mrs. Bracken continued in a careful voice, "I have sat down with
Mrs. Winward in an effort to contain the damage as best we might.
Bridget will replace Enid as head laundry maid."

"Yes, ma'am."
Bridget!

"She has been an indifferent kitchen maid,
and could never hope to rise to the position of cook. There is no
talent there, as even she admits. Your father had to be let
go—"

"Father!"

"—and as a result there seemed no point in
keeping the boy on. It's unfortunate, but Mrs. Winward simply
cannot tolerate fisticuffs among the staff."

"But Father didn't do anything!" Tess burst
out angrily.

“He did, and he has the bruises to show for
it. The matter is closed, Tess," she added brusquely. "It is not
why I asked to see you, in any event. As it happens, but not in any
way connected with today's events, young Miss Winward will soon be
losing the services of Marie du Plait, her personal maid. Marie has
announced that she is marrying and emigrating to Australia. Marie
is under the illusion that she will find her fortune there. We
shall see."

Mrs. Bracken, whose everyday expression was
a stern grimace, pulled the corners of her mouth down a bit
further. Her gray hair seemed to turn grayer; her bun, to coil a
little more tightly. The housekeeper accepted the everyday
insanities of the lowest class of servant, but had nothing but
contempt for the indiscretions of upper-house domestics who should
know better.

"In the meantime," she continued, "it has
not escaped the notice of Miss Cornelia Winward that you are gifted
with a needle, and she has asked for your services personally. It
is, of course, a tremendous opportunity for you, Tess," Mrs.
Bracken added unnecessarily.

There was no question in the housekeeper's
mind that Tess would accept: the position promised prestige, better
wages, better working conditions. It was a far better position than
even the still-room maid's. Tess, reeling from the upheaval that
had shaken the Moran family, was madly assessing their shifting
finances: Her fathers and brother's wages had disappeared in one
blow. For Maggie, no change. For Tess, half again as much. But
could she afford to abandon Maggie to the hard labor of the laundry
room?

"I assume, Tess, that the distressed look on
your face means that you can't find appropriate words to express
your gratitude." There was dry menace in Mrs. Bracken's voice;
obviously she remembered Tess's agony of indecision months earlier
in New York.

"Yes, ma'am," Tess answered with a touch of
dryness herself, "that must be it." She would work it all out
later, with Maggie, in their room.

"Good. It's settled then. For the next few
weeks you will be instructed by Marie. If you can afford lessons in
hairdressing, I should very much advise it; Miss Cornelia is very
particular about her coiffure. Until Marie leaves, your chief
responsibility will be to keep up Miss Cornelia's rooms and of
course her wardrobe. You will occasionally accompany Marie and Miss
Cornelia—to tea, tennis, a picnic, a ball, perhaps. I must also
request, though I am well aware that it is not the ordinary thing,
that for a while you help keep up the guest rooms as well. As soon
as I can find additional chambermaids to replace the ones we've
lost today, that temporary duty will of course drop away. Since it
is summer and there are no fires to make up, your duties as
housemaid are considerably reduced."

"Yes, ma'am. I understand."

"Well, then. For the moment, there is
nothing further. You will get together with Bridget and bring her
up to date on the present laundry routine; she has not worked in
the laundry room in over a year, and meanwhile the Bradford washing
machine has been installed. But first, I would very much like you
to see Jinny about helping her prepare some of the guest rooms. She
is quite overwhelmed; and meanwhile new carriages seem to be
arriving on the half-hour. That will be all."

"Yes, ma'am," Tess said one last time.
"Thank you, ma'am." She rose to leave.

Mrs. Bracken's eyebrows lifted in ironic
surprise. "Tess," she said, calling her back in mid-exit, "I have a
good opinion of you. You are a seemly young woman who avoids the
idle gossip of the hall. You dress with attention and take pains
with your hair and skin. It is to your great advantage that you
have learned to read and write and have made an effort to rid
yourself of the worst of your Irish accent and distressing
colloquialisms. Do not think such ambition goes unobserved. You can
do quite well for yourself, if only you apply discipline and
diligence. Mrs. Winward is not an ungenerous employer, though she
may seem remote at times. Remember that."

Tess, not yet eighteen, stunned by the
dramatic mix of good fortune and unjust reversals, did her best to
look the part of a well-mannered servant who was at home in the
world of elegant carriages and costumed balls, trans-Atlantic
liners and private railway cars. "I shall certainly do my best,
ma'am, and I think that my best will suit Miss Cornelia very
well."

Mrs. Bracken, thin and stiff, gave the tall
and graceful Tess a long, appraising look. "I'd like to think so,
too."

****

The next seven days could fairly be said to
have transformed Tess's life. Although Tess was familiar with most
aspects of domestic service, she knew little about the duties of a
lady's maid. Lady Meller had been attended by old Prudhella, who'd
served on the Meller estate all her life. As a result, Tess had
never had occasion to lay out a riding habit or pack a trunk full
of a lady's needs for a weekend. She spent the next few days under
Marie's sometimes offhand tutelage, carefully noting Miss
Cornelia's habits, from the time she preferred to be awakened to
the temperature of her bath water and her favorite kind of tea.

Tess turned her mistress's wardrobe inside
out, marveling at the superb craftsmanship in the gowns from Paris,
brushing the satin boots with a light and loving touch. By the end
of the week she had memorized the contents of the French provincial
armoires that lined Cornelia Winward's dressing room. Miss Cornelia
herself, intensely vain, had shown a keen interest in Tess's
discreet suggestions for improving the cut or fit of one or two of
her gowns, and by week's end had gone so far as to assert to her
mother that Tess was the best lady's maid in Newport and that it
was too, too bad that plain Gertrude Vanderbilt was not lucky
enough to have Tess's good services for her coming-out party the
following week.

Tess was dazzled. Only in her most far-flung
dreams had she imagined being privy to the nonstop glamour that
marked a Newport debutante's life. The laundry room might have been
a million miles away from the mistresses' bedrooms. Tess had been
often bored and always skeptical when the footmen and housemaids
sat around the servants' hall exchanging garbled and inaccurate
gossip about their masters and mistresses. But when Miss Cornelia
and her older sister Isabel excitedly compared notes after a ball
while their maids carefully removed the diamond tiaras from their
heads, well—it did seem to Tess that the gossip was much more
accurate. Besides, holding a tiara encrusted with diamonds and
pearls, if ever so briefly, brought home to her the idea of
boundless wealth far more dramatically than did carelessly spilled
port on priceless damask.

Late at night, after Tess helped Marie to
see their young mistress comfortably to her bed, she would return
to the garret room that she would be sharing with Maggie for so
little longer and pour wonderful gossip into her sister’s ear.
Maggie would be lulled into a respite from her racking, painful
cough and into sleep, often with a dreamy smile on her lips. And
then Tess would ease her arm out from under Maggie's head and creep
silently over to her own bed, and next to it she would sprinkle a
handful of rice on the floor and kneel on it.

"Dear Mother Mary, let Maggie get well," she
would pray as the little grains cut into her skin. "Don't let me
forget those I love best. Don't let me be jealous of a life I was
not born to live, or abandon those who gave me the life I have.
Make me remember. Amen." And then she would say a rosary, sometimes
only half-consciously, before she swept up the little grains of
rice with her hand into a box and fell exhausted into a deep, short
sleep.

Cornelia stood in the doorway of her
mother's bedroom and stamped her foot. "No! I will not have my maid
turning out beds for stupid guests. Isabel gets to keep a maid all
to herself. Why can't I have Tess?"

"Because, darling," Tess heard Mrs. Winward
say from within, "you have
two.
Once Marie leaves, you can
have Tess all to yourself. But for now we're dreadfully
short-handed, and if Tess doesn't mind doing the guestrooms, I
don't see why you should."

"Because it's
embarrassing,
mother!
How would
you
like it if
your
maid cleaned out the
slops of ... of some perfect stranger!"

"Tess cleans out
your
slops,
darling," Mrs. Winward said with a tolerant smile in her voice.

"Oh mother, that's perfectly different!"
Cornelia said in a tragic voice, and she spun on her heel and
marched unseeing past Tess, who was on her way to the opposite wing
to turn out the Blue Room.

Tess was behind schedule, of course. Back in
Wrexham Lady Meller had been fond of saying, "An hour lost in the
morning has to be run after all day," and that was exactly what
Tess was doing. She'd gotten up before dawn to do what she could in
the laundry to ease the burden on her sister; from there it was on
to Cornelia to prepare her for another exhausting day of
entertainment; from there, on to her temporary duties as
chambermaid.