Chapter II
Anna rolled over at the sound of Gwen saying her name, still cocooned in the sheets on her small bed.
She opened her eyes and groaned a little. "For just once in my life I'd like to sleep until I woke up natural."
Gwen sighed. "Or had a fire lit. Imagine that."
Anna smiled, closing her eyes for just another moment.
"Come on," Gwen said, her voice gravelly, "I'll lace you in."
"Oh, would you? It takes half the time."
They dressed quickly and efficiently in their morning dresses, corsets snapped and laced, aprons tied neatly. A bit of cold water splashed on their faces, their hair woven like bread in neat chignons almost covered by white caps. It was a strange sensation. The uniform was different, the house unfamiliar, and she hadn't yet met the people she was about to dress, yet Anna felt as if no time had passed since the last time she'd put on her uniform at Mayfield, managing her corset on her own, her hair back in its more severe style than the ones worn here, her plain face staring back at her from the small mirror above the dresser.
Gwen headed straight to Mrs. Hughes' office as soon as they got downstairs.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes," she greeted.
"Good morning, Gwen, Anna," the housekeeper greeted.
"I thought Anna could come along with me today, and she can go on her own tomorrow."
Mrs. Hughes nodded. "Very well. No dawdling."
"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," they said together. Anna followed Gwen back up the staircase to the first floor. Gwen directed some maids to the library and led Anna forward.
"We'll do this one first," Gwen said, gesturing to the right. Anna remembered it was the morning room.
They automatically went to the windows, pulling back the heavy shutters and fastening them tightly. The curtains were opened, filling the room with a pale April dawn. Anna noticed tiny dust particles floating in the stabs of sunlight. She went to the rose-colored sofa in front of the fireplace and began plumping cushions on one end while Gwen did the other, then noticed the kitchen maid trying to build a fire in the hearth.
"Daisy?" she asked, remembering the girl's name. "Whatever are you doing there, crouching in the dark?"
"You weren't here, and I didn't like to touch the curtains with me dirty hands."
"Well, quite right, too," Gwen said. "Why didn't you put the lights on?"
"I daren't."
"It's electricity," Gwen said, "not the devil's handiwork. You'll have to get used to it sooner or later." She and Anna started brushing off the cushions with their clean hands, moving any dust that had settled overnight.
Anna thought of Mayfield. "Some houses even have it in the kitchens."
Daisy looked at her, bemused. "What for?"
"To see better, silly," one of the younger maids said, walking through. "Wouldn't you like to see if you've got the salt or sugar in your hand?"
Daisy considered this, then turned back to her work. The soft jingle of keys announced the housekeeper's arrival as she made a quick appraisal of the morning's work.
"Is the library tidy?"
"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," Gwen said. "I sent Betsy and Amelia."
"Good. I want the dining room given a proper going over today," the housekeeper said, looking at Gwen. "You and Anna can do it when they've finished their breakfast." The girls nodded, moving to the cushions on the chairs.
"Oh, heavens, girl!" Mrs. Hughes exclaimed, noticing Daisy at the hearth, working away, her hands blackened with soot. "You're building a fire, not inventing it. How many have you done?"
"This is me last till they come downstairs."
"Very well," the housekeeper said. "Now get back to the kitchens before anyone sees you." She moved on through the room, presumably to inspect the next one, while Gwen and Anna finished with their cushions.
"Why do they need all the fires, anyway? They're not in their rooms but an hour before coming down."
"I guess they want to be comfortable," Gwen said. "Nobody likes to wake up cold."
"Then why don't we have them?" Daisy asked.
Anna exchanged a smirk with Gwen.
"Come on, let's do the drawing room before we go back down," Gwen said.
Ten minutes later the main staff sat around the table for a light breakfast. Porridge, just as Anna had eaten every day for the past ten years. At Mayfield they'd sometimes had the luxury of a dollop of jam to sweeten the tasteless meal. Here there was butter.
"Gwen and Anna are going to dress Lady Sybil and Lady Edith today," Mrs. Hughes announced. "Miss O'Brien, you will please see to her ladyship and Lady Mary."
Miss O'Brien looked up from her tea mid-sip. "You heard Gwen last night going on about Anna knowing how to dress. Why can't she see to Lady Mary?"
"Because this is Anna's first day. She hasn't even been introduced to Lady Mary."
"I don't mind, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said. "Miss O'Brien is right. I do know how to dress. It won't be a problem."
Mrs. Hughes looked at her. "Perhaps you could start with Lady Sybil this time." On the wall behind her, the first bell of the morning rang.
"And they're off," Thomas said, putting his spoonful of porridge back in its bowl before he could take another bite.
"That's her ladyship," Miss O'Brien said, standing. Another bell rang. She turned to Anna. "And there's Lady Mary."
"Don't fret, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said, standing and pushing in her chair. "Gwen showed me the rooms yesterday. Where can I find Lady Mary's tea?"
"This way," Miss O'Brien said, going to the service window by the kitchen and pointing to a tray of china cups. "Is it hot?" she asked.
"Would you like me to splash it on your face to find out?" Mrs. Patmore called.
Miss O'Brien only raised an eyebrow and took one of the cups, steam rolling off the surface of the murky brown tea. "I'll be back in a minute to take her breakfast up."
"I await your return with bated breath!"
"Not that one!" Daisy said quickly as Miss O'Brien turned to leave and Anna reached for a cup. "Lady Mary doesn't take milk in her tea. It's the one in the middle."
Anna smiled. "Thank you, Daisy."
She hurried up the servants' stairs to the second floor where the family bedrooms were located and pushed the door open. The silence of morning, save the ticking of a tall grandfather clock as she walked past it down the hall, light catching on the crystal chandelier in the great front hall and dancing on the wood panelling like faeries. She knocked quietly on Lady Mary's door and, at the small noise of assent, let herself in. A regal young woman lounged in the mussed bedclothes on the large bed, her dark hair loosened from its braid.
"Good morning," she said. Her voice, low, was scratchy with sleep.
"Good morning, milady," Anna said, going to the bedside table to set down the cup of tea.
"Where's Gwen?" Lady Mary asked, her brow knit in eight o'clock confusion.
"Downstairs, milady. Would you like me to draw the curtains?"
Lady Mary took her cup of tea and blew across the surface. She cleared her throat slightly and shook her head. "Not yet. I'll ring again when I'm ready to dress."
"Very good, milady." Anna bobbed a curtsy and left Lady Mary to drink her tea in the red, womblike dark.
When she returned to the servants' hall Anna was greeted by a very different sort of chaos than was typical of any morning in a large household. From the hall she saw that two of the maids, still sat at the table, were crying. There was an excess of staff clogging the dining area and hallway, all speaking to each other worriedly, and the back door was open. Cold April air blew through, chilling her ankles. Mr. Bates, Thomas, and Gwen had already gone up. Anna found the first person she recognised.
"Jenny? What's happened?"
The young girl looked at her with wide brown eyes. "That big ship, the Titanic, it's sunk out at sea."
"What?"
"It's in the papers," Jenny said, gesturing to the one Mr. Carson was hurriedly scanning before taking them to the dining room for Lord Grantham to read over breakfast. "There was an iceberg." Anna stopped William with a hand on his arm as he walked by.
"Is it true?"
"'fraid so," he said, passing her, carrying something for the upstairs dining room.
"But didn't they say it was unsinkable?" one of the hall boys asked.
Mr. Carson grunted, folding the papers neatly. "Evidently, they were wrong. Now hurry along, it doesn't concern any of us."
A bell rung in the servants' dining room.
"That's Lady Mary," a footman called.
Mr. Carson looked up. "Anna."
She turned and went back upstairs, taking them a bit too quickly, lost in her thoughts, so that when she opened the door into the sumptuous hallway she had to steady herself with a hand to her abdomen where the corset constricted her movement. It couldn't be real. A great, sturdy ship like the Titanic didn't just sink in the middle of the ocean. And all those people…
When she knocked and opened Lady Mary's door again she found the young woman in her dressing gown standing in front of her opened wardrobe, staring at the carefully hung clothing as if she expected a dress to present itself for the day. She noticed Anna.
"Still no Gwen? Am I not to have the pleasure of dressing with O'Brien this morning, then?" she asked with a note of sarcasm.
"It'll be me today, milady."
"All right. I'm sorry, what is your name again?"
"Anna."
Lady Mary nodded. "Anna. I suppose the curtains can be drawn now. I was thinking of blue today." Anna crossed the room to neatly pull the curtains back while Lady Mary perused her wardrobe with better lighting. "And I may go riding after breakfast. You might tell Lynch."
"Very good, milady," Anna said, then went to rejoin Lady Mary. "Have you decided?"
Lady Mary nodded. "Yes. The gathered blouse with the flowers, and my blue skirt. The new one," she said, shedding her dressing gown as Anna moved to find undergarments. Having familiarised herself with all three of the girls' clothing the day before, she had no problem locating the blouse, but came across two blue skirts. A quick feel of the fabric told her which was newer. The dressing process was efficient and easy, with very little conversation. At Mayfield, Lady Eleanor had always been quite chatty, but she was younger, and the only girl among five brothers. It was a treat for her to converse with a young woman, even if she was only a housemaid.
"You can do something simple with my hair," Lady Mary said, sitting at her vanity and checking her face in the mirror. "We'll only have to redo it when I go out."
Anna nodded and started undoing the long braid of dark hair, gently taking a brush to it, beginning at the ends. Lady Mary applied her perfume and studied Anna through the mirror.
"You're very quiet," she observed. "How long have you been with us?"
Anna looked at her in the mirror. "This is my first day, milady."
Lady Mary raised her eyebrows, then her expression softened. "I won't bite, you know."
Anna smiled a little and turned her attention back to her work. "It's not you, milady," she said truthfully. "Only we just heard downstairs that the Titanic had sunk." She gathered some hair up from one side and began pinning.
"That's impossible," Lady Mary said, although her interest was piqued. "It's probably all press to make the arrival in New York all the more exciting. Americans do like their headlines."
"In the papers they're saying it was an iceberg."
"Goodness," she said, taking a pair of blue teardrop earrings out of a Chinese jewelry box. "What a story."
Lady Mary hummed a little, watching her reflection. Her eyes brightened. "Oh, Anna, that's very clever! Where did you learn that?"
Anna smirked, winding the plait she had finished around an elegant yet simple chignon, a cousin to the one she wore herself. "My mum taught me, milady. I think it's nicer than tucking the ends in at the back. What do you think?"
Lady Mary touched the back of her head, turning her head to admire the subtle intricacy of the style. "Well, I'd take my hat off to your mother, but I don't want to ruin my hair," she joked. "Do you think you can manage it again for dinner?"
"Of course, milady," Anna said. "Will you be needing anything else?"
Lady Mary was about to speak when a soft knock came on her door. Her two sisters slipped in. Anna recognised Lady Sybil as the youngest from the way she wore her hair, still down and tied in a ribbon. Lady Edith, with her blonde hair, looked slightly out of place between her sisters.
"Mary, have you heard?" Lady Sybil asked, her voice gentle and caring.
"About the Titanic? Yes, Anna told me." Lady Mary looked back in the mirror, putting her earrings in.
"It's wretched to think about," Lady Sybil said. "All those people, drowning in the cold water."
"I'm sure they didn't all die," Lady Mary said. "Sybil, what do you think of what Anna's done with my hair?"
"It's lovely." She smiled at Anna. "Gwen said there was a new housemaid."
Anna bobbed a curtsy and looked at Lady Mary. "Will that be all, milady?"
"Yes, thank you. You might ask Mrs. Hughes to send you instead of O'Brien to dress me for dinner. Tell her I requested it."
"Very good, milady."
"We should go down," Lady Edith said as Anna crossed the room to leave, "Perhaps Papa hasn't heard."
Once the girls were headed down the staircase, Anna went to Lady Sybil's room, where she found Gwen remaking the bed.
"Can I give you a hand?"
Gwen looked up in relief. "Thanks. Normally Betsy would be doing this, but she's in a state, and I didn't want to make her come up in tears."
Anna went to help her shake out the duvet and pull up the sheets, tucking them tightly.
"How was Lady Mary?"
Anna shrugged. "She didn't believe that the Titanic had sunk. Thought it was just a story for the newspapers."
"Lady Edith thought I dreamt it up to give her a fright," Gwen said.
They stepped away from the bed and stood up straight when the bedroom door opened again, only to see Miss O'Brien, holding a white cloth that needed stitching on the edge.
"Yes?"
"His lordship just came in while I was setting down the breakfast tray," Miss O'Brien said quietly. "He says Mr. Crawley and Mr. Patrick were on the ship when it went down."
Gwen and Anna resumed making the bed. "But they would have been all right, wouldn't they?" Gwen said. "Being in first class."
"'Neither of them were picked up'. That's what he said."
"Mr. Crawley and Mr. Patrick?"
"What did I just say?" Miss O'Brien said. "Her ladyship was the colour of this cloth."
Gwen frowned, taking up a pillow to plump it. "Well, it's a terrible shame if it's true."
"It's worse than a shame," Miss O'Brien said. "It's a complication."
Anna and Gwen continued making the bed and tidying while Miss O'Brien stood in the room, apparently waiting for more discussion but unwilling to help in the work.
"What do you mean?" Gwen asked.
"What do you think? Mr. Crawley was his lordship's cousin and heir to the title."
"I thought Lady Mary was the heir," Gwen said as they put the finishing touches on the bed. Anna picked up a candlestick that needed to be polished as they left the room and moved down the corridor to Lady Edith's -a bright, sunny room in shades of green, with dark wood furniture.
"She's a girl, stupid. Girls can't inherit," Miss O'Brien said. Anna remembered the argument that had broken out when Edward and Alexander, the two eldest boys at Mayfield, had gotten in a drunken fight over who truly deserved Lord Darlington's title, spilling beer all along the parquet she had only finished polishing the day before. "But now Mr. Crawley's dead, and Mr. Patrick was his only son. So, what happens next?"
Anna felt a strange wave of sadness wash over her. Even though she didn't yet know the Crawley family, she could already sense the damper of loss it would bring to the vibrant house. "It's a dreadful thing," she said.
"Well, you're none the wiser," Miss O'Brien said, her eyes hard. "You didn't even know them."
"No, but I know what it's like to lose someone overnight," she said, working with Gwen to shake out the duvet. "It's a dreadful thing, whoever you are."
Miss O'Brien crossed her arms. "Anyway, her ladyship asked me to sort out her black. You should do the same for the girls."
"How long will they be in mourning, do you think?" Gwen asked.
"Six months, her ladyship said. You'll have to see that everything still fits. Might let some of them out for Lady Sybil." Miss O'Brien smirked. "Grief makes people hungry."
Anna frowned. "That's not very kind."
"It's the truth," Miss O'Brien said.
"Go on," Gwen said. "I'm sure Anna and I can manage on our own. Thank you, Miss O'Brien."
The staircases at Mayfield had been narrower and taller than the ones at Downton, but no matter how many times she went up and down them a day, going all the way to the attics in any house put a strain on her calves. Anna was still catching her breath, slightly out of practice, when she noticed Mr. Bates standing in front of an open cedar-lined wardrobe. The smell reminded her of Christmas. It was stuffy up here, though, and dusty. She sneezed into her elbow.
"What an entrance," Mr. Bates remarked, reaching into his waistcoat for a handkerchief. She waved her hand.
"It's all right, I've got my own." Taking her handkerchief out of her pocket, she wiped at her nose, then caught her breath.
"I'm just getting out all of his lordship's black," Mr. Bates said. "What's suitable for spring and summer, anyway." A basket by his feet served as a receptacle for whatever was wearable. All of it would then be laundered, mended or altered if necessary, and ironed out.
"And I'm here for the girls."
Mr. Bates walked a bit further into the attic and pointed to two wooden chests. "Miss O'Brien was already here for her ladyship, so things might be a bit untidy."
"It's no problem," Anna said, pocketing her handkerchief and going to the chests, opening them up. Again the fresh, nostalgic smell of cedar.
"You won't tell anyone if I take a moment to rest, will you?" Mr. Bates asked, gesturing to a wooden chair that had ended up cast to the side on the opposite wall.
Anna shook her head. "'Course not." She began sorting through yards of delicate beaded fabrics, wools, cachemire, looking for any black. She stole a look at the valet sitting down in the chair, his cane on the floor beside him, and wondered how he'd gotten up all the stairs.
"You said you'd been working in Somerset."
She separated a dress from the others and studied it, looking for clues as to sizing. It could be worn through June, if that. "Yes," she said shortly, then, "They'll be burning up under all this in the summer."
Mr. Bates chuckled. Anna looked at him.
"I shouldn't laugh."
"What is it?"
"It just seems a bit unfair, doesn't it, that we're in black every day of the year, even in summer, while they wear every colour under the sun."
"Speak for yourself. I've still got my cap and apron!" she joked.
He held up a hand in surrender and glanced back at the open wardrobe. "If I sit any longer I won't be able to get up again." He stood from the chair and, limping without his cane, resumed sorting through the wardrobe. Anna sneezed again.
"Bless you."
"Thank you. So far I've only found two frocks, and I don't even think I could fit Lady Sybil into them," she said, defeated, before moving onto the second chest.
"She's grown up over the past year," Mr. Bates said.
"Oh, yes? And what would you know about such things, Mr. Bates?"
He chuckled. "I meant that her mind's matured. I know we're not supposed to listen…"
Anna looked away from the cabinet and over to him curiously. "Go on. I won't tell."
He smiled a little nostalgically. "She's the sweetest one out of the three of them, but there's some fire in her. It was something she said one night. She challenged something his lordship said during dinner. I can't remember what it was now. But he listened, and he respected her point of view, saw the logic in it. Just a girl of seventeen."
Anna smirked. "Some of us would be looking for a smack in the mouth if we challenged our fathers at the dinner table."
Mr. Bates turned his head, the smile still in his eyes. "That's the sad truth, isn't it?"
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, with Anna depositing the girls' black in with Lord Grantham's, knowing they would sort it later at the laundry, until she finally put her hands on her hips and looked into the wardrobe.
"That's all I can find. Maybe I haven't looked everywhere."
"You'll have to ask Mrs. Hughes," he said. "Come on, we'll go down together."
Anna nodded, and they closed everything back up. She sneezed again.
"Bless you."
"Thank you," she laughed, wiping her nose once more. Mr. Bates bent to pick up the basket, but she stepped forward. "I'll carry that, Mr. Bates."
"I can manage," he said, his cane in his other hand.
"I'm sure you can," she said. "If you want to be stubborn about it, I can carry it down halfway and then we'll switch."
He looked back at her. "I can manage."
"I know," she said, her voice bright, "but I don't trust you with all those fine fabrics." She pursed her lips to hold in a smile until he relented, letting her take the basket and slip out ahead of him, starting slowly down the stairs.
"You better not sneeze on any of that," he called as she walked down ahead of him. Anna laughed. It felt good to laugh. Her mouth hurt from speaking and smiling after so much silence.
She wasn't used to animated mealtimes. At Mayfield the staff ate together in silence, sometimes so late she couldn't stomach the food. When the butler put down his knife and fork it signalled the end of the meal, which led to eating small portions too quickly. The insufficient diet coupled with seemingly endless hard work had made wearing a corset necessary only for warmth. At Downton the staff sat close together and chatted through the meal, catching up with friends after the butler and housekeeper shared any announcements. And Mrs. Patmore's cooking was hearty and filling. Anna had been given a thick slice of bread with her stew, but she knew that for the first time in years she wouldn't be sneaking half of it into her pocket to save for the morning before work began.
"How did you get on today, Anna?" Mrs. Hughes asked. "Lady Mary seemed satisfied."
"Very well, I think, Mrs. Hughes."
"I think you can dress her, then, and help with Lady Edith and Lady Sybil if Gwen is too busy in the mornings."
"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said. "I already found black for tomorrow. It's airing, but I'll take it up with me when she rings."
"Some of it will have to be altered," Gwen added. "I can work it out tomorrow if it's all right, Mrs. Hughes."
The housekeeper nodded. "They'll be needing them as soon as possible."
"Miss O'Brien, could I borrow some of your black thread?"
Miss O'Brien looked at Gwen with raised eyebrows. "Borrow my silk thread? How are you planning to get it back to me, then? What's wrong with the thread in the mending room?"
"I can't use it on an evening gown," Gwen explained. "That one's for uniforms and jackets."
"Well, you won't be having any of mine," Miss O'Brien said. "Go down the village and get your own."
Mrs. Hughes sighed. "I'll send someone down tomorrow after breakfast," she told Gwen. "In the future, when we run out of thread, I'd like to be informed."
"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," Gwen said.
"Can we have a game of Charades after dinner, Mr. Carson?" William asked. There was excited twittering from the younger staff.
"Certainly not," Mr. Carson said shortly, and the chatter ceased. "I will remind you all that there have been not only one, but two deaths in the family. As such, I expect an appropriate amount of respectful compassion from each of you."
"Of course. Sorry, Mr. Carson," William said, looking back at his plate. The room fell into awkward, chastened silence before Thomas spoke up.
"What do we know about the new heir?"
"Only that there is one," Mr. Carson said, putting his knife and fork down. Reflexively, Anna did the same. "It is not our business to concern ourselves in the family's affairs."
"It'd be different if Mr. Crawley had died here," Gwen said as they got ready for bed. Anna looked over, braiding her hair. "In his sleep, or something. Imagine you're on a ship all morning only to have it go down."
"Were they close with the family?"
Gwen nodded, pulling her knees to her chest under the sheets after climbing into bed. "Mr. Patrick was set to marry Lady Mary."
Anna frowned. "But this evening she seemed so…" She searched for an appropriate word. "So detached." Because of the death, Lady Mary hadn't gone out riding. She'd only walked with Lady Grantham on the estate. Anna had seen them from the window in one of the guest bedrooms after luncheon. And then before dinner Lady Mary hadn't even mentioned Mr. Patrick, instead lamenting the fact that she had to start wearing black when Anna brought up the freshly aired dress, promising to have more choices available the next day.
"At least it's only until September," she'd said at last, after standing to examine herself in the mirror.
Gwen shrugged. "That's Lady Mary," she said.
"What do you mean?"
Gwen bit her lip, thinking. "The girls couldn't be more different, if you ask me. I don't know how she was with Lilly, but I always got nervous dressing her. Lady Sybil is so friendly, and even Lady Edith has something kind to say in the morning."
Anna got into bed herself, a shawl around her shoulders. "Some people don't wake up friendly."
Gwen nodded, yawning. "I don't see how they could be bothered by anything in this world. All they have to do is ring, and they can have whatever they want. I once had to turn on the lights for her ladyship because she didn't know where the switch was."
Anna chuckled, then remembered a question she'd meant to ask Gwen earlier. "Gwen?"
"Mhm?"
"How did Mr. Bates hurt himself?"
"He fought in the Boer War," Gwen said quietly. "He was his lordship's batman. I'm not quite sure how he got injured. Must have been shot, or something."
"But he still works as a valet?"
"It was strange at first," Gwen admitted. "We didn't know how he'd manage with the stairs. We thought he wouldn't last a day, but his lordship kept him on."
"That was good of him."
"But he can't carry," Gwen said. "Thomas has been after his job since he arrived. Always complaining about the extra work he's got to put in because of him." She sighed. "He's quiet. We don't hear too much from him." She yawned.
The strain of the day settling in, Anna leaned over to blow out the candle. The small bed squeaked while she settled under the sheets. "Well, that's me done in."
"I'm glad you're here," Gwen said. "Mrs. Hughes is, too. She told me."
In the dark, Anna smiled softly. "I'm glad to be here, too."
She courted sleep for what seemed like hours, Gwen's steady breathing the only sound in the room, moonlight catching on the side of the wardrobe, along the floorboards. The threatening storm cloud of fear she'd been living under for so long had been chased away by something as simple as a train ride, but the aura of peace emanating from this house worried her. Feelings were dangerous and not to be trusted. She knew this now. To arrive at a house only to find it suddenly struck with death...life itself couldn't be trusted. Taking a steadying breath, Anna closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. It was all over and done with. There was no going back. Her chest ached, her eyes burned, but she finally found sleep.
A/N: Thanks for reading, and for your reviews on the first chapter! Let me know what you think of this.