Page 18 of A Maid of No Consequence (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

UNEXPECTED PANGS

E lizabeth lay wide awake, staring up at the ceiling in her glorious room at Pemberley.

She laughed quietly. The absurdity of the last few weeks filled her thoughts: being tossed out of Pollard House, relying on friends and near strangers, and now nestled in the home of a man whose proposal she had rejected five years earlier.

She sat up in the largest bed she had ever had to herself—and the most comfortable, she had to admit—and yet there was no sleep.

What would tomorrow bring? If only she could talk to Sarah.

For the last six months, she and Sarah had shared their evenings commenting on the Pollard family’s outlandish behaviours, comparing the aches and injuries they incurred in their workdays, and laughing at the nonsense and conversations they had witnessed or overheard.

It was a sisterly camaraderie which kept their spirits high through it all.

She missed her company. Sarah was much younger, and in some ways reminded Elizabeth of Kitty.

However, Sarah was not a gentleman’s daughter, and she had not been raised with the privileges and comforts that she and her sisters had.

Sarah had been made wise beyond her years by the difficulties she had endured, and yet had a convivial personality; she was good-natured and kind.

There was a comfortable amity between them, which Elizabeth appreciated, especially as she had not shared a closeness with anyone when she served as a governess in her previous position.

She wondered how Sarah is faring alone in a new, enormous, very grand house.

Without a thought, Elizabeth whisked off her nightclothes, tossed them on the bed, and slipped into the gown she had been wearing earlier.

She quickly found her shoes, lit her candle from the glowing embers in her fireplace, and as she slipped out the door, hoped that she would not encounter anyone in the corridor.

Sarah had been put up in a room by the kitchens; she was not allowed to stay with Elizabeth in any of Pemberley’s grand collection of bedchambers.

Elizabeth understood there was a plot at play to keep her respectability and separate her from the maid of all work that she had been.

Rumours travelled quickly, she knew this.

Yet, where would disloyalty to a friend fit into anyone’s understanding of manners and propriety?

Elizabeth had worked in two grand houses before, so she tried to follow the corridors as logically as she could, finally finding the servants’ stairways in the obvious places.

She had to chuckle slightly, realising that her years of hired service had given her a unique perspective as well as the ability to sneak around imposing homes in the dark of night, undetected .

She finally found her way to the corridor leading to the kitchens, grateful for the light of the flickering candle.

The kitchens were warm from the work of the day, and she found herself feeling quite comforted as she stood there.

Lingering aromas of something sweet that Cook had baked brought on unexpected pangs.

She had left much of her supper untouched, her stomach in turmoil from the events of the day.

Now, she regretted pushing aside the quail and potatoes.

Her stomach growled again, a reminder of how foolish that was.

She saw two closed doors, each with lights flickering beneath.

The brighter one, she realised, must be Mrs Reynolds’s rooms, so she crept slowly towards the other.

She lightly tapped her finger on the door, trying not to cause undue attention from the housekeeper.

“Sarah,” she murmured as quietly as she could.

She was about to turn to leave, when the door opened slightly.

“I had a feeling you’d come to find me.” Sarah’s arm came out and pulled Elizabeth into her room. It was tiny, with no window, but a small cot with blankets that took up almost half the room. It was cold, so they both went under the covers quickly.

“You did not need to check on me, Eliza.”

“Obviously I did.” They lay quietly for a few moments. “I confess it was more for my benefit than for yours, selfish creature that I am.”

“You? Selfish? I don’t believe that.”

“Then…perhaps just lonely. No matter what happens going forward, we will remain friends, Sarah.”

“You mean, as I am to be your companion and maid?”

Elizabeth nodded .

“We were never equals, Eliza. You may have worn a maid’s frock, but you were never a maid.”

“No, I was not.” Elizabeth closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts.

“Things are happening very quickly, and decisions are being made that I cannot object to, not since I allowed myself to be at the mercy of Mr Darcy. I am grateful for his help, truly. But it is not easy to admit this, as I have not had someone to look after me in a very long time.”

“I am happy to see you finally as you were all along. You are Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Nothing takes that away, do you see? Not a maid frock, or a mean lady of the house,” Sarah said in a confident voice. “It is who you are, to your very bones.”

Elizabeth felt wistful hearing the kind of sisterly advice she remembered from years of whispered conversations with Jane, and could not help a tear falling, though she caught it before it reached the sheet. “How did you get to be so wise?”

“I’ve had a governess for the past six months, Eliza. Has no one told you?”

Elizabeth smiled. Then her stomach rumbled.

“Is that your belly?”

Embarrassed, she admitted, “I did not eat much at supper.”

Sarah pushed her from the bed, “Go. Grab yourself an apple tart. The cook, Mrs Hodge, made some fresh for tomorrow’s tea but she set aside some in the larder for the servants. Go, now, sneak off and find one, and then see yourself off to your own bed!”