2
Philippa Wilson smoothed out the fresh linens of the large four poster bed and sighed. There was nothing more dreadful than tedious work. And given that Philippa, at only twenty years old, was trapped in the dull, monotonous position of an upstairs maid, life at that moment seemed quite unbearable.
“Hurry up, Pippa,” Ruth, her friend and fellow maid, whispered as she ran a duster over the fireplace mantle.
Philippa stared at a stack of books on the bedside table. If she could just get a peek at them…surely her master and lady wouldn’t mind.
“Just want one look, Ruth. Hold on a moment.” She reached for the nearest tome, but Ruth rushed over and blocked her way, holding out her arms to prevent Philippa from touching the table.
“You mustn’t. We aren’t to put on airs.”
“Airs? It’s a bo
