Page 45 of A Marriage is Arranged
Rose had been enjoying life immensely. She was senior to Susan and treated with respect in the household. She sat at table just under the butler and housekeeper, on a level with his lordship’s valet.
Her duties had become heavier, it was true, and she was glad to share them. Her ladyship’s fine gowns took a good deal more looking after than her old clothes, and more expertise with the needle was required for the inevitable damage to the hems. Luckily, Susan had learned a lot from her Aunt Booth and could take over the repairs. It was she who cleaned the maligned wedding gown and hung it up in the room she now shared with Rose. Rose took over the duties of tea tray, hot water, and general putting away of her ladyship’s things, and they divided up the dressing and undressing. The one other thing Susan did consistently and successfully was her ladyship’s hair.
For Rose, a pleasant side effect of having a co-worker was that she could spend more time at the kitchen door with Freddy. After seeing her in the street with her mistress that day, it had not taken him long to discover her whereabouts. They were now walking out regularly, and on Rose’s days off he took her to all sorts of sights: Madame Tussauds, Astley’s Equestrian Review, and her favorite, the Vauxhall Gardens.
They couldn’t stay there late; it was a long journey back across the river and she had to be home by midnight, but she was charmed when all the lanterns in the trees were turned on at once. It was like magic! Freddy treated her to a supper of the famous shaved ham and a glass of wine. She was entirely unaccustomed to alcohol of any sort, and it went straight to her head. She let Freddy kiss her in the boat on the way home, but he was a perfect gentleman and didn’t press her for more.
It wasn’t long after The Kiss (as it figured in her mind) that Freddy began talking about their future.
“I’m beginnin’ to fink it might be time for me to settle down,” he said, “if I can just get a bit put aside. I’m doin’ all right, but a wife costs. I wouldn’t want ’er to ’ave to work.”
“A wife?” Rose couldn’t believe her ears. Did he mean her? They’d only been going together for a month.
“You got someone in mind?” she asked timidly.
“Yes, and you knows who it is, Miss Rose Brady! I ’opes you don’t go kissin’ just anyone!”
“No I don’t, and you know it! But you ’aven’t even met me Ma and Da.”
“No, and I ain’t goin’ to until I’ve got enough by me to prove I can keep a wife.”
Rose was struck by the justice of this. Her father certainly wouldn’t let her marry someone who couldn’t support her. She was the youngest in the family, and the prettiest. She’d always been his favorite.
“I just needs another bit ’o luck,” continued Freddy, “like sellin’ that story to me mate at the newspaper. You ain’t got a juicy bit o’ gossip for me, ave yer?”
“No. M’lady was a bit put out the other day and I thought she might be, you know, increasing, but she ‘asn’t said nothin’.”
“She had a bit of a barney wiv me lord?”
“No, nothin’ like that. I’ve never ’eard any arguments. We don’t see a lot of ’im to tell the truth. ’E’s always in the ’Ouse o’ Lords. Afternoons we does our walk, then she does ’er funny drawins and they goes out most nights.”
“Funny drawins?” Freddy pricked up his ears.
“Yes. She’s ever so good at them. People she meets, she makes pictures of them lookin’ well, funny. Carrycat-yours, or something, she calls ’em.”
“You got any of ’em? I’d like ter ’ave a look, if they’re funny like you say. I can always do wiv a laugh.”
“No, but I specks I can borrow ’em and show you.”
“’Ow about termorrer?”
“It’s not my day off!”
“I know that, yer silly. I’ll just come by and you can let me ’ave ’em. I’ll bring ’em back when I takes yer out next week. Tell yer what, we’ll ’ave pie and peas down on the river. We’ll get an ’ackney and spend the day. I’ll take yer for a row. Y’can wear a pretty bonnet, and I’ll wear a proper ’at instead of me cap, like the toffs.”
The vision of herself floating along in her new bonnet filled Rose with delight. It didn’t occur to her to wonder why Freddy was so keen to see a pile of funny pictures that he couldn’t wait till next week, but she didn’t think her mistress would mind. She always said they were just for fun.
Rose was late to bed after her day off and was still sleeping when Susan went to help their mistress get ready. The Countess was going to breakfast with the Dowager and was leaving the house early. So she missed the opportunity to ask her about the funny pictures and in fact had forgotten all about it when Freddy showed up at the back door.
“Sorry I can’t stop,” he said. “I got a lot of deliv’ries today and I need to get on. Where’s them carrycat-yours, then?”
“Oh! I forgot!” exclaimed Rose. “And now she’s gone, so I can’t ask ‘er.”
“But she won’t mind, shorely. Y’said yerself it’s only a bunch o’ funny pictures.”
“Yes, that’s what she always says.” Rose made up her mind. “Oh, all right, then. I’ll run and get them.”
Rose ran upstairs and took the portfolio of caricatures from the desk drawer where she knew her mistress kept it. She extracted the top ten or so pages with the most recent images and put them between the pages of the previous day’s newspaper she’d taken from the kitchen table. She didn’t want them to get dirty. She went back downstairs and gave them to Freddy.
“Don’t lose ’em, will you?” she said. “Make sure you bring ‘em back when I sees yer next week, on me day off, as usual. Don’t forget!”
“I won’t,” he said, running up the steps to the street and giving her a cheery wave.
It wasn’t until he was well away from Grosvenor Square that he dropped into one of the small parks, sat on a bench and opened the newspaper.
His eyes opened wide and a grin split his face. Here it was. This was going to make him a pile, or his name wasn’t Frederick Musgrove. He’d begun to think the money he was spending on Rose was going to prove a waste, but this ’ere was a bit of all right.