Chapter 1

I tell you, I knew it the first moment I set eyes on him: Ralph Escott was a man who would mean a bit boiling heap of change to my life, make no mistake. Now, I admit that I am something of a book lover. Even though my wages were always rather too thin for my liking, I always scrimped to save a few extra pence for buying a cheap novel here and there. I was always partial to those lovey-dovey romances, and even scribbled a few of my late into the night, much to the teasing of the other girls I boarded with. I must say, it always kept me looking for my own knight in shining armor bloke to waltz into my life, lowly maid though I be. Well…not a lowly maid anymore, I suppose. But that will come later.

As I was saying.

I was in the kitchen when he first came, lead by Vike, that nasty old butler with the bullet scar. He came with his toolbox in his hands, looking 'round the kitchen at me and Cook and the scullery maid, Liza. I was filling a pretty blue vase with water what for setting the flowers in the drawing room and I had to crane my neck to see who it was. Liza was up to her arms in flour, but she managed to give him a big flirty smile, batting her bleeding eyelashes like a stupid cow.

You have to know, see, that any knew man what comes 'round was exciting to us girls. I knew I had my Stokes, of course, but he, the great lump, was as jealous as the devil. And frankly, I didn't like to see Liza getting so high and mighty, thinking that every new man that walks through the door was nabbed for her. So I can tell you, that when I saw this handsome plumber walking in, his eyes on Liza, I was dead set with envy. I must of turned a might shade of green with it.

As Vike took him to the sink, where the leak was, I moved over a bit, holding the vase in my hands as the butler showed him the problem. I knew I had work to do, but that thought of Liza's smile drove me mad. Pretending to busy myself with drying the vase, I listened as Vike went on about how old the silly pipes were, and how the Master was particular about repairs, and all that gammon. I dilly-dallied until Vike stalked off, leaving the new plumber rummaging through his tools.

"What you come 'round here for, then?" I asked. It was a daft question, as I had known all about the leak for weeks, but at least I got him to look at me.

"There's a nasty leak down here, what needs fixin'."

Those were the first words spoken to me by Ralph Escott, and I will never forget them. He had a great sharp chin with a small goatee, and he looked at me with the keenest grey eyes I had ever seen.

"Ah well, I'd best be lettin' you get on with your work," I said with a big sigh. "Although I was thinkin' that a night at the pub would set me up forever."

"Are yer the housemaid?"

The question seemed right queer to me. Usually, the next question was about when I would be fixing to go.

"Of course I am!" I exclaimed, hoisting my vase. "Would a scullery maid be gettin' flowers for the Master's drawing room?"

He gave me a little funny smile, showing yellowed, but at least rather straight, teeth. "Nah, I suppose not then." As he leaned over his tools again, I turned my head and stuck my tongue out at Liza, who gave me a look that could kill a daisy. Picking up a wrench, he paused to look at me before he ducked under the sink. "Now what time were ye fixin' to go to this pub?"

"Oh, Ralph!" I squealed as we wandered home. This was our third night out together. A visit to the pub every evening had become our custom, but tonight we had drunk a little more than usual. "What a sight we must be!"

He laughed next to me as we leaned on each other, each of us a bit pickled. It had been a grand night, and it felt nice to have a warm arm around my waste. I snuggled my head on his shoulder as we neared the stables, and he paused for a moment. When I looked at him, I saw he was watching the up windows.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" I asked in a singsong voice, giggling.

"Is that where that Milverton bloke sleeps?" he asked.

"What?" I looked up at him again. "Now whatcha wanna know that for?"

He tweaked my nose with his finger, smiling again. "So I knows when I can come see you. Without that bloody Milverton peerin' about."

"Gonna come see me are ya?" I poked him playfully in the ribs. "And get me off me job?"

"I'd come quiet like," he whispered, smiling into my face, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. "And come whisk yer away."

I stood up against his chest, tilting my chin up. "Where'd we go?"

"How does China sound, love? Or the West Indies?"

"Mmm, I'd like that," I sighed, leaning against him again as we resumed our walking. I closed my eyes, letting myself be staggeringly led along the cobblestone path. When I opened them again to smile at him, he was still staring at those windows, a queer keen look on his face.

"Come on now, Ralphie." I tugged him to a stop, holding onto his scruffy coat collar. "I need to tell ya somethin'."

He stopped and looked at me, but I could tell his thoughts were still on those bleedin' windows. I sidled up close, as close as I can, going in to make the catch. A grand night was all well and good, but if Stokes got wind of it, which he certainly would if Liza had her way, then I was in danger of being without a man. And I wouldn't be caught dead without one, not with that nasty pig Liza wagging her tongue in the kitchen.

Putting on all my charm, I gently touched the brim of his cap, smiling as soft as a kitten. His eyebrows got all knotted as he watched my fingers trace from his shaggy brown hair all the way down to his neck. "It's real important," I whispered shyly. "Are ya listenin'?"

"Yes." His eyes were searching my face, and I wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with him. Why was he so serious?

I stood on my tiptoes, getting close to his ear. "I think I'm in love," I breathed, wrapping my arms around him. His arms tightened around me just a bit, but rather stiff like, like he didn't know what to do. So I made it easy for him.

I leaned back a little so that he could see my face, closing my eyes, my mouth tilted up towards his, waiting for his lips to touch mine.

But they never came.

My heart twisting, I opened my eyes. There was such a stark scared look that was on his face, it made me all hot with blush and anger. I pushed him away, my eyes smarting with embarrassed tears as I began to stomp away, my fists clenched tight.

"And if ya don't know how to treat a girl, then I don' want ya!" I said between clenched teeth, my heart pounding. I might have had a way with men, but it didn't mean I wasn't young and still had my pride.

"Aggie! Aggie, me girl!" I could hear his footsteps behind me, but I didn't look at him, quickening my step.

He caught up with me fast, grabbing my wrist. "Here now, Aggie-"

"Get away, you!" I snapped at him, yanking my arm away. "I give ya my heart, and all ya do is stare?" I stopped and cried at him, them tears falling like rain down my hot cheeks. "What kinda man are ya?"

He took my hand all soft-like, rubbing my fingers in between his. "Aggie, Aggie dearest," he murmured, a little smile in his voice. I kept my head down, the tears still coming, but not letting on that this was what I wanted him to do. "Aggie, don't make a man break his 'eart over yer so. Yer wants me to say it aloud? Alright then. I loves yer."

I sniffled a bit, looking up at him through my eyelashes. "Do ya mean it, Ralph?"

He gently pulled my arm, bringing me close to him again, touching the back of my hair. "Aye. I do."

"Then kiss me."

I looked at him bold this time, waiting, my chin up towards his. He hesitated, staring down at me with a flicker of that odd fear, but slowly leaned down and carefully kissed me. It was quick and soft, but I didn't care. I pulled away from him, giggling.

"There now, ya chump," I laughed, lightly punching him on the shoulder. "That weren't too bad, was it?"

He blinked slowly, as if he was waking up out of a dream. He gazed down at me for a moment, our eyes holding each other. Then, shaking himself, he took my shoulder firmly, and we kept walking. "Now c'mon, Aggie girl. Let's get yer home before we're found out."

I let myself be led on, but my heart was all aglow and fluttery like a bird. If he kissed me, he liked me. If he liked me, well then…the life of Agnes Morton was worth living.