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“Go on, Josie,” said the maid seated next to the one with the parchment. “Read it out to us again. You are the only one of us that can read. Are you certain it is them?”
The maid holding the parchment rolled her eyes. “Course it is, you silly featherbrain. Who else could it be? It has all but named them. L.P.H? That was Her Grace’s initials, prior to their marriage. And no one could mistake His Grace. They call him the Beast and talk about his scarred face…”
A cold shiver fell through Patricia. She felt frozen to the spot with horror. These maids were gossiping about them, behind their backs.
At that moment, Sally, her own maid, walked towards them her face frozen in a rictus of disapproval.
“Is this what you do on your break?” she barked, staring hard at one and then the other. “Gossip about your betters? Do not forget that you are in the service of the Duke and Duchess. They pay your wages. Have you no shred of loyalty?”
The maids looked shamefaced. The one holding the parchment hastily put it down, her face burning. The other maid was flushed also but raised her chin staring back at Sally.
“It is not our fault that they are in this scandal sheet,” she declared defiantly. “The whole of London knows about it. We are just keeping up with the news.”
“News?” spat Sally, her face thunderous. “That is not news! That sheet is only good enough to wipe your backside with. Destroying people’s lives, so it is. I am heartily ashamed of you both.”
“All the servants know,” said the maid called Josie, her eyes flashing. “It is all anyone has been able to talk about all day. It was his man of affairs, Godwin, who brought this in so we could read it…”
Patricia blanched. This was intolerable. It wasn’t just thetonwho knew about it – it was the servants as well. They were all laughing at them behind their backs.
She marched into the kitchen, her back ramrod straight. The whole kitchen gasped, frozen, as they watched her. Cook’s hand holding the wooden spoon was suspended in mid-air above the pot. Sally looked as if she might be ill. The two maids on their break were scared out of their wits, their eyes darting frantically to left and right, as if seeking escape.
Patricia slowly walked up to the group, holding out her hand.
“Give it to me,” she said slowly, in a deceptively calm voice.
“Your Grace,” breathed Sally, her eyes wide with fright. “Please. I implore you…”
Patricia ignored her. She kept her eyes on the maid named Josie. The maid was pale now, slowly reaching out for the sheet of parchment and then placing it in her mistress’s hand.
“Thank you,” said Patricia grimly.
She turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen, clutching it in her hand, without another word. She could feel the eyes of everyone boring into her back. Now she knew why none of them had been able to look her in the eye.
In the parlour, she screwed up the sheet of paper, throwing it onto the fire. It hissed for a moment, before blackening, turning to ashes.
If only I could do that with every copy in London, she thought in despair.If only I could wipe it off the face of this earth.
As she watched the paper burn, she didn’t think she had ever felt more desolate in her life.
