War Chest: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 5 by Lynne Connolly Read Free Book Online

can go down then.”
    Just as well, because her stomach was rumbling as if she had not eaten well last night.
    After she helped Andrea feed and settle the babies, Ruth went downstairs. Before she arrived here, belowstairs had been an unfamiliar world. The backstairs were part of the old fabric of this house, Tudor or Stuart, dark wood carefully polished to a sheen. After the first two flights, she went through a door and down another flight, this time of stone steps in a spiral, from the worn treads even older than the ones in the main body of the house.
    The house contained a warren of passages and rooms, some service areas, and some for storage. They were stone flagged. The walls exuded cold and damp. That was, until she approached the kitchen.
    She slipped into a huge room, with a fire roaring at one end, the spits already occupied by poultry and joints of meat. The woman in the large cap and sleeve protectors glanced around as she came in. “Breakfast is in the upper servants’ room.”
    “Thank you.” Ruth didn’t think the woman was listening. She was instructing her two assistants before Ruth turned around to go to the chamber set aside for the upper servants’ use. This house must once have employed many more servants. Great houses like this could have up to fifty people to keep it in splendour, but at present, the provision of separate rooms for servants seemed superfluous.
    Five people sat at table. Two footmen and three housemaids. Ruth took a plate, helped herself to the generous amount of viands on the sideboard and smiled her good morning. “It’s a splendid day, is it not?”
    “‘Splendid’.” One of the maids giggled. “You’re a governess all right. Sit where there’s a place. Mrs. Brindlehurst ate earlier.”
    Ruth sat next to the maid and set to eating. “Didn’t his grace say you were a relative of his?” the girl asked. “What are you doing down here with us?”
    Ruth shrugged, wishing the duke had not invented the tale “I must eat somewhere. I’m a governess by profession.”
    The maids stared at her curiously, and Ruth’s heart sank. Governesses, companions and other genteel people who were employed to serve a family fell between the two stools. They weren’t good enough for the family, and they did not fit in belowstairs, because who knew what they would convey to their masters? Nobody trusted them. They could lead very lonely lives.
    Ruth busied herself with her food and the big dish of tea someone set before her. “I’m just here to care for the babies and set up the nursery.”
    “How long are you here for?” the maid next to her asked as she shoved a stray lock of hair back under her linen cap.
    “As long as his grace needs me.”
    “Have you been to London?” the footman asked her. He’d taken off his heavy coat and sat at table in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves.
    Ruth shook her head. “No further than York.”
    “London drives people mad,” the other footman said sagely. “It’s not a safe place. You wouldn’t get me going there.”
    “What about if he orders you, Will Kennaway?” Daisy, the maid sitting next to Ruth asked.
    Will Kennaway blushed. “That’s different.”
    Ruth cut into a thick slice of bacon. “I’ve never been to London. I come from the north.” She stopped herself saying “Cumbria” in the nick of time. They might know the babies’ mother came from there.
    “Scotland?”
    “Nearly.” She sipped her tea. Just as she liked it, strong and hot.
    She didn’t linger long over her breakfast, but the chatter going on around her disturbed her a little. What could she say?
    She turned to her food, and said nothing, then excused herself to go upstairs. She’d seen eight servants down here, all but the housekeeper and the butler. It seemed a woefully small contingent for such a large house, ten servants, plus the nursery staff, and the duke’s personal body servant. The duke seemed content with the arrangements, so who was she to