Amelia stretched her arms above her head and yawned. Why was it that Lady Brenton always requested her presence so early in the morning? The old sourpuss was constantly finding ways to frustrate her and make her life miserable, but she would continue to do her job with the utmost of decorum and grace, because that is how she had been taught and she could be the perfect lady if she needed to be. But if Amelia had it her way, she would love to give Lady Brenton the cut direct, shut her curtains and sleep until noon, like the rest of the debutantes. Oh what a fabulous life that would have been, to be able to do as one pleased. Only she wasn’t a debutante. Not any longer.
She trudged out of bed, and began her daily ritual of primping and preening, as Lady Brenton called it. Of course Lady Brenton had ladies maids to ensure that she looked like a divine peacock, clad in the finest materials and trinkets one could afford. But those were the luxuries of a lady, when one had money and time, something that Amelia didn’t have, or would ever have as a lady’s companion.
Once she was dressed to her satisfaction, she left her room and made her way down the hall, towards the atrociously adorned Pink Room that Lady Brenton spent most of her time in during the day. Amelia could always smell the overly fragranced room when she was about halfway there, and if Lady Brenton requested her presence for too long, she was sure to have a headache from the rose scent that permeated the room. After having dealt with it for the past year of her employment, the scent of roses was no longer a smell she tolerated. If it was Amelia’s decision, she would never smell another rose for the entirety of her life.
Amelia knocked on the door and heard the high pitched voice of the woman on the other side.
“Oh, do come in Amelia. It isn’t necessary to stand around, needlessly hovering in between the door frame. Either come in or don’t, but please do make a decision. Your indecisiveness is making me anxious.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Amelia said, presenting herself in front of the Lady who considered herself as high and mighty as The Queen.
Fortunately for her, she didn’t have to spend an inordinate amount of time with the overbearing woman. Lady Brenton was older, and appreciated visitations with her friends alone most of the time, so it made it quite easy for Amelia to escape outside, or into the music room, where she could play the piano forte to her heart’s content.
Amelia hadn’t always been a Lady’s Companion, she was once supposed to be a lady herself. She was to have a season, attend luncheons on the arms of handsome men, and walk in Hyde park in beautifully tailored clothing, with fancily adorned hats. But due to her mother’s terrible spending habits and her father’s atrocious gambling debts, she and her brothers had been sent off to obtain work in whatever capacity necessary, so that they could survive on their own. Whilst her father was sent to debtors’ prison in Borough, London to rot, like the piece of fodder he was. Her mother had removed herself from the situation completely, as if nothing had happened. She now lived comfortably with her sister in Manchester, where rumors of their family’s downfall hadn’t reached the ears of her newfound society.
Well, good riddance to the pair of them. Her father was never very fatherly, and her mother had not one maternal bone in her overly obtuse body, often leaving her and her siblings in the care of the nurse or the governesses.
But her brothers she had a fondness for, and all of the adventures they had shared together as children. They were a fine bunch of lads, and she heard from them as often as they could receive and write her letters. She would obtain little snippets and tales of new lands they had explored, as they wandered the continents, making memories with each other in their travels. They were lucky to have found a gracious Captain, who had taken pity on all of them, keeping them together in the same company, instead of separating them from one another.
While Amelia, being educated and brought up in ladylike ways, became a Lady’s Companion to one of her mother’s arrogant friends, her mother’s parting gift to her. It wasn’t as if she was ungrateful for the job she had been given, she was very appreciative. She would have never survived the workhouse, like so many other families of misfortune, but she longingly wished for more than the company of a pompous woman for the rest of her life, but such was her lot in life.
“What can I do for you today Lady Brenton?” Amelia asked, a smile plastered to her face.
“I may have forgotten to mention to you that we are to have company for a fortnight, and will be having a Christmas house party. Isn’t that just wonderful? The invitations have all been sent and guests shall be arriving this very morning.”
Amelia was a bit taken aback. How had she not known that Lady Brenton had planned an entire house party, entirely without her knowledge? Was she oblivious to the things that were going on around her, or was Lady Brenton more cunning than she had originally thought?
“You can pick your mouth up off the ground Amelia, and do stop your gawking. We have plenty to do this morning to prepare for our guests’ arrivals and I need you to ensure that the maids have my son Georgie’s room prepared. He just penned me yesterday, informing me that he is able to join us for the party. Isn’t that just grand?” She squeezed her hands together in excitement. “I also need you to assign the sleeping arrangements for all of our guests. The rooms have all been prepared, so your duties should be very simple. Very manageable for someone such as yourself.”
She hadn’t missed the barb that Lady Brenton had thrown her way. It was a daily occurrence for her to add subtle insults along with her instructions toward Amelia, and she was beginning to adjust to the way she was being spoken to.
But Lady Brenton’s first request hadn’t gone unnoticed, causing dread to pool in her stomach. A visit from Georgie was perhaps the worst revelation she could imagine and Amelia’s mind screamed in agony. The man was perhaps even more terrible than his mother. Not only was his voice nasally and much too high pitched for a man, but his breath was as though someone had been feeding him a diet of solely onions and fish. He was the epitome of an imbecile, and every word that came from his mouth was either an insult or left one confuddled and dumbfounded. Now, not only would she have to tolerate his mother, but him as well.
“Oh that is just the grandest of news,” Amelia said through clenched teeth and with far too much enthusiasm.
“Well… be away with you. Mucking around all day won’t complete the tasks that I have given you, now will it?” She waved Amelia away with a flick of her wrist, nose held high in the air, and with an overly dramatic sigh she waved to the maid to bring her the morning tea.
She curtsied to Lady Brenton and made her way down the hallway to find the housekeeper Mrs. Russel. Bertie was her absolute favorite of all the servants in the manor, and she always had the most pleasant time trying to get her stern countenance to giveaway in front of guests. Bertie had shown her true self to Amelia many times over the past year. Whenever someone’s back was turned, Bertie would transform into a jestress, making faces and sometimes mockingly strutting like a chicken behind their backs. But as soon as the guests turned around, her stony facade was in place again, with no trace of mirth left on her face. She could always depend on the housekeeper to lift her spirits, and with Georgie arriving for a house party, she would surely need the amusement.
