“Of course.” Celeste bobbed another quick curtsy at Warner. “Please excuse me, my work calls.” And she slipped on past Warner and into the butlery. Mr. Hammonds closed the butlery door after her, shutting Warner out of his domain.
The room was pleasantly cool and quiet compared to the bustle in the serving halls where dinner preparations were underway. The shelves were lined with bottles of wine. A lovely old table graced the center of the room, with a large book open upon it. Entries in the book indicated wines and other viands withdrawn from the butlery. Celeste rested the basket of laundry on one hip, and faced the butler. “How may I be of service?”
“Rest your basket a minute on that chair over there and humor an old man by taking a cup of tea with him.” Mr. Hammonds placed a steaming cup in front of her. “I have a moment or two before announcing the next course.”
“Thank you, sir.” Celeste sat on one of the straight-backed chairs placed around the table.
“I’ve a job for you that I think you will like,” Mr. Hammonds said. “The maid who did the house bouquets has abruptly left, and I need someone to do the floral arrangements for the public rooms and for the Duke’s study. I’m sure you’ll have no problem with the bouquets in general, but the Duke’s requires a special touch. He likes something a bit more masculine, yet still decorative.”
“I will be glad to try, Mr. Hammonds. Thank you for offering me the opportunity for so pleasant a task.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss Singer. You have more than earned the privilege with your work these three months.”
Celeste bowed her head with respect. “I am always glad to be of assistance.”
“Go along with you,” Mr. Hammonds eyes twinkled even though he spoke almost severely, “And don’t let me catch you loitering in the halls.”
“No, sir, I will not!” Celeste picked up the laundry basket and hurried away to complete her errand.
When she reached the upper servants’ dining room, Betty McGuire, one of the maids, and Martha Sedgwick, the housekeeper, whose room was next to hers, had just finished arranging the place settings and were beginning to bring in the food that remained from the courses that had already been served above stairs. “It smells delicious.” Celeste inhaled deeply as Betty ladled portions of savory broth into soup bowls while Miss Sedgewick placed wedges of chicken pudding on each of the plates.
Betty and the newest scullery maid shared a room on the same hall as Miss Sedgewick and Celeste.
“Don’ it just,” Betty replied. “His Grace allus has cook make enough of whatever they’s havin’ so’s we can have the same. Not like some of the great houses where all you get is leavin’s or maybe porridge if they ain’t no leavin’s.”
“Now Betty,” Martha reproved, “You wanted to learn to talk proper. If you were talking to Her Grace, how would you have phrased that?”
Betty paused and thought about it for a moment. “I guess I should have said ‘Doesn’t it smell good’.”
“That’s a good start.” Martha smiled her approval. “Now go on.”
“Um…. ‘His Grace al-ways has Cook make enough that we can have some’?” Betty colored up, and looked at Celeste with a worried expression on her face.
“It is hard to learn new ways of speaking,” Celeste reassured the girl. “I remember when I was learning English how Sister Mary, one of the teachers at the village school, would correct my way of saying things.”
Betty’s eyes got big at that. “Were it… no, that’s not right. Was it hard learning English?”
“It was very hard. Mama said that if I wanted to be a successful shopkeeper, I would need to know how to talk to English patrons. That was why she and Papa saved enough to send me to school.”
“I hear tell,” Betty began, but at a look from Martha carefully corrected herself, “I have heard that it is scary in France right now.”
“Very scary.” Celeste arranged a salt cellar, several dishes of dried herbs, and a cruet of vinegar and oil on the table, while Betty returned to the kitchen for more items for the table.
Sally Ann, the new scullery maid, popped in with a tray of fresh dishes for the upper servants’ tables. “Did you hear?” she announced in a loud, harsh whisper, “They found a dead body at the edge of the Lolly Mire.”
“Oh, no!” Martha exclaimed. “Did they say who it was? And why are you whispering?”
“We ain’t supposed to know about it,” Sally Ann said, in a more normal voice. “They ain’t said official like who it is just yet. But Cook thinks it’s the maid who used to do the flowers.”
Celeste’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, no!”
Miss Sedgewick looked surprised. “You knew her?”
Celeste shook her head. “No. But Mr. Hammonds just asked me if I would do the flowers. He said the maid who was supposed to do them had disappeared, and had not done them for a couple of days.”
“Well!” Miss Sedgewick declared, “That is enough to give you a turn. The vases have not been changed out for a day or two, that is for sure. But who would have thought it was because the young woman had drowned in the Lolly Mire?”
“Will you still do the flowers?” Betty asked.
