Forced To Be The Duke's Maid

Forced To Be The Duke's Maid - Part 3

The car pulled up a long-gravelled driveway. A huge stately mansion came into view through the trees. It looked imposing but also very beautiful against the dark, cloudy sky. This was to be my new home for the foreseeable future. I should have felt a modicum of excitement at the thought, instead all I felt was fear and apprehension. What Mrs Dawson had said about the duke liking my ‘innocence’ wasn’t helping. What could she possible have meant by that? Did the duke plan to sexually assault me? I had no one to save if that were the case. I was completely at his mercy here, miles away from everyone and everything I knew and cared about.

The car slowed to a stop and the driver got out. Walking to the side of the car to open the door for Mrs Dawson. He held her hand and helped her to her feet at the bottom of the large stone steps. There were large ornate statues of lions at either side of the steps. The driver moved round to open my door, instead of taking my hand, he took my bag from my hands and stood holding it as I pulled myself out to a standing position. When I went to take it from him, he merely shook his head. “I will bring it to your room miss.”

I gave him a curt nod. “Thank you.”

I walked round to where Mrs Dawson was standing. She never made eye contact, just turned to walk up the stone steps. As she lifted her skirt to walk up them, she only mumbled. “Follow me girl.”

I did as she instructed. My skirts were not long enough to require lifting, so I just followed her slowly, doing my best not to go quicker than her up the steps. As we almost reached the top the large doors opened, several members of staff were awaiting us. “Welcome back Mistress Dawson.”

“Thank you, Emma, could you and Rowena please see our new maid to her quarters please. I must go and speak to his grace.” The young girl just nodded and gave a slight curtsey.

As I reached the entrance to the mansion, I saw two elderly gentlemen in smart suits, their shoes so highly polished you could see your face in them. There were two young females in black and white uniforms and another slightly older lady in dark grey uniform. None of them looked that pleased to see me, apart from the one that Mrs Dawson had referred to as Emma. She gave me a broad smile that seemed to light up her entire face. Maybe she would become my confidante and ally here? I truly hoped so.

“Come with us, we will show you to your room.” Emma, followed by the other young girl in the same uniform walked ahead of me as I followed them towards a flight of stairs. I looked up the winding staircase, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. I walked up behind the maids, looking at all the artwork and family portraits hanging on the walls as I went. The faces looking back at me were very serious, did everyone who was born into money look this glum and depressed?

Emma spoke now as she proceeded to walk along a beautiful, elegant hallway. Opulent colours, more artwork and tapestries hung on the walls. I immediately felt out my depth, I had never been accustomed to such lavish and luxurious surroundings, how could I possibly fit in here? “This is your room here.” She stopped outside a grey door trimmed with white. She opened it and allowed me to walk in first. I thanked her and made my way into the room. I felt dumbstruck. Was this really a maid’s quarters? It was very plain, but there was a four-poster bed, heavy white drapes hanging from the top, a fireplace with logs and coal bucket filled next to it, there was an antique looking wardrobe and dresser in the corner, as well as a changing screen covered in butterflies and flowers. It was stunning. I turned to Emma as her and the other girl followed me in and shut the door behind them. “Has there been some mistake? This room can’t be mine, it’s too good for me.”

Emma giggled. “Yes, it’s yours silly. His grace likes his girls to be close to him and have their own private chambers. I am Emma by the way, this quiet one is Rowena.”

I felt sick, what could she mean by that? His girls? It made me sound like a lady of the night. “My name is Celeste, it’s lovely to make your acquaintance. What did you mean by that? His girls?”

Emma just smiled and shrugged. “Just that, you are on of his grace's girls. Didn’t Mrs Dawson explain all this to you?”

I shook my head sadly. “No, she didn’t. Only he would like my innocence.”

Emma and Rowena both exchanged a glance, they looked almost sympathetic. “I promise Celeste, it’s not as bad as it sounds. You will be well cared for, enjoy nice food, have access to education in music and literature. All you must do is be amenable to his grace when he requests your company. That’s it.”

“And if I don’t? Not sure I can be amenable to some dirty old aristocrat.”

Emma giggled again. “Old? I think you have been misinformed Celeste.”

Before I could ask what she meant by that, the door burst open. Mrs Dawson stood glaring at all three of us. “That is quite enough gossiping for one day girls, get back to work immediately.”

Emma and Rowena both muttered their goodbyes and scurried past Mrs Dawson, stopping to give her the smallest of curtsies before scarpering off down the hall again.

Mrs Dawson never said a word as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, revealing numerous dresses, bodices, under garments and coats.

“Do they belong to the last girl?” I asked, hoping my curiosity didn’t anger her.

She never replied, only pulled out a white bodice with attached petticoat and a dark blue dress. “Get changed into this please. His grace is awaiting your visit, you must not be tardy. You will be punished.”

I moved to take the garments from her arms and move behind the screen. As I removed my old workhouse clothes, I felt a great sadness washing over me. How could I survive without my workhouse family?

Mrs Dawson reached her hand round the screen, pass me your dirty clothes please.”

“Are you going to wash them?”

“No, I certainly am not, they’re going in the bin, where they belong. Now please hurry up.”

“Please don’t dump them, Mrs Campbell bought me that dress.”

“We will not have filthy clothes lying around Elstree, his grace will not stand for it.”

I felt tears sting my eyes, I couldn’t cry though. I would only be giving her what she wanted, to break me completely. “Are all those clothes in the wardrobe mine now or do they belong to someone else?”

“You ask too many questions girl, but yes, everything in this room is now yours to use. I hope you will show his grace the gratitude he deserves for showing a workhouse waif like you such kindness.”

I rolled my eyes. Thank goodness I was tucked away behind this screen. I pulled on the bodice, lacing it up at the front. It felt amazing against my skin, silky and soft. The white petticoat hung round my ankles. I think it was maybe for someone taller than me. I stepped into the dark blue gown. It had a high neckline with four tiny buttons at the back. The skirt was very tight across my hips and backside then fluted out at the bottom. I felt incredible in it, as much as I tried to hide my enthusiasm. I stepped out from behind the screen. Mrs Dawson looked at me approvingly. “Do I look okay milady?”

Mrs Dawson nodded. “Yes, more than adequate. Just tidy up your hair and we will be set. His grace always likes your hair to be up, neatly pinned with no hair loose from the bun. He will tell you the rest of the rules when you meet with him.”

Rules? I had a feeling there were going to a lot of them and probably none I would want to uphold. Did I have a choice though? Not likely. I walked over to the mirror, I pulled the pins out of my braised bun, added in the loose strands from round my face and pinned it all up again. There, no messy hair now. When I turned to Mrs Dawson, she seemed satisfied too.

“Follow me Celeste, his Grace has waited long enough. We mustn’t keep him waiting any longer.” She opened the door and turned to her left, as opposed to the right from where I had come from earlier. I walked along behind her, careful to keep a respectful distance between us. The last thing I wanted was to step on her dress or trip her up.

Mrs Dawson came to a sudden stop at the end of the hall. We stood facing two large cream doors with brass handles. She knocked and waited for a response. A deep male voice could be heard from within. “Enter.”

Mrs Dawson pushed the doors open and put her hand up to stop me following her. She walked over to a high-backed leather armchair. I could see one leg with pinstripe trousers and a highly polished black shoe, that was all I could see of the duke so far. Mrs Dawson curtsied before announcing me. “Your Grace, let me introduce Celeste. I hope she will be satisfactory for you.”

Mrs Dawson nodded at me to enter. I walked over to where she was standing and took a deep breath as I turned to face the duke. The man who was interested in my innocence. I could feel bile rise in my throat as I slowly turned to face him. Was it hot in here? I suddenly felt very hot and dizzy.

When my gaze finally met the duke’s, I gasped. He was no overweight elderly aristocrat, but a young man no older than twenty-eight years of age. His dark eyes were scanning me from head to toe, he had a broad jaw, a slight stubble just coming through, as if he had not shaved in a few days. His dark brown hair was slicked back perfectly. He had long tanned fingers, he steepled them, staring intently at me, barely even blinking. He looked very tall and muscular; it was hard to tell with him sitting with his legs crossed in the armchair. As if he had heard my thoughts, he put his hands on the arm of the chair and pushed himself up to a standing position. He was indeed tall, at least a foot taller than me. He walked over to where Mrs Dawson and I stood. Without breaking eye contact with me, he simply said. “Leave us.” Mrs Dawson curtsied again and left the room, closing the doors behind her.

Now I was completely alone.

My heart was racing, I felt like a wave of heat was washing over me, nausea building with every passing second. Did he plan to assault me? I looked at the door, could I run? Would he catch me?

He spoke now for the first time, a low, deep tone to his voice. It sounded nice, but also very authoritative. Like everything he might say could sound like a command. “Hello Celeste, please turn around for me. Slowly.”

“Yes, your Grace.” I began to move slowly, doing my best not to lose my balance. Between how tight the bodice was and my anxiety levels, I felt like I could pass out at any moment. I was almost fully round when two strong hands clamped round my waist and pulled me backwards. I found myself caged into his solid chest. My heart was beating so hard now, we could both hear it in the silence of the room. I was too scared to breath. Is this it, my innocence is going to officially be taken from me?

“You must breathe Celeste.” Were the last words I heard before everything went black.