Christmas Child: an absolutely heartbreaking and emotional Victorian romance by Carol Rivers (classic english novels txt) 📕

not told her of this. But then, Sister Patrick had not told her very much at all. Not even the names of this couple or where – exactly – they lived.

Ettie glanced up at the large clock on the mantle. It was past ten. She stood up not wanting to wear out her welcome. ‘Goodnight,’ she bid them, making a small curtsey.

‘Goodnight Ettie. Don’t work too late,’ Clara told her.

The house was very quiet as Ettie continued her chores. The kitchen was warm and functional but needed a good clean. The cupboards had to be rearranged from their higgledy-piggledy untidiness. The mangle and boiler in the outhouse reminded her painfully of the laundry, but this time, she shed no tears. For God had given her a new family and she would work hard to reward them for their generosity. Lucas and Clara had welcomed her so warmly.

As Ettie climbed the stairs to the first floor, she heard Clara’s soft tones behind the bedroom door. Then came Lucas’s deeper voice. Although Ettie deeply missed the orphans, she was grateful for God’s goodness.

Tomorrow she would rise early, light the fires, tidy the drawing room, fetch water from the pump in the yard and cook breakfast. The black leaded range would smell fresh and look sparkling before Lucas set eyes on it. The house would be swept, dusted and polished before Clara sat in her chair.

And if she had time, she would trace the origin of the odd smell. Ettie was too tired to peep out of the window. Instead she lay under the pretty coverlet of her bed, enjoying its luxury.

Silver Street was noisy indeed - just as Lucas had predicted. Drunkards shouted and women cat-called. But Ettie welcomed the sounds that made up her new world. The world that Michael had warned her about.

The world that Michael himself was part of. If only she knew where!

Ettie rose at the crack of dawn to say her morning prayers. She included her new family as well as her old one. Neither did she forget Michael who was never far from her thoughts.

She washed with the water from the china pitcher and dressed in the previous maid’s uniform. Looping the white apron tightly around her waist, the grey dress was almost her size. She found a round white cap and coiled her dark hair beneath it. Her boots were her only regret. But she soon forgot about these as she sped around the house – cleaning, dusting and emptying the high piles of ash in the glass dish.

Once the books and papers were returned to the cupboards and a fire lit in the drawing room, she washed the dirty china and cutlery that seemed to have gathered around the house. The source of the perplexing smell came from a small pedestal desk in the hall. The drawer was full of small bottles. The smell equalled no other that she could think of, except perhaps the orphanage sick room, where Sister Patrick had the medicines kept under lock and key. Ettie washed each bottle, removing any sticky substance that had dribbled down the sides.

Having done her best to eliminate the smell, she was blacking the stove when Lucas whistled his way into the kitchen. A strong smell of cigar tobacco wafted from him as he looked around.

‘My word! My word!’ he exclaimed as he rocked on his heels with his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets. ‘Is this the abode of the tobacconist Lucas Benjamin and his good wife, Clara? Or have I mistaken my direction? Is this not a palace I see before me? I must be at the wrong address!’

Ettie realized he was teasing her. She smiled shyly.

‘Ettie, you have worked wonders.’

‘I am only a quarter way through my chores, Sir.’

‘Then a quarter is as good as one whole in my opinion.’ Lucas beamed.

‘Will Mrs Benjamin be eating breakfast, Sir?’

‘Indeed she will. I would say in fact, there’s no doubt on that score.’

‘I’m afraid we only have eggs. But they will cook very well if poached lightly with a little cheese I found.’

Lucas had clapped his hands in delight. ‘Manna from heaven!’

‘I’ll have breakfast cooked in ten minutes, Sir. The table is laid.’ She added hesitantly, ‘I have toasted all the bread in the larder.’

Lucas thrust his hand through his red hair. ‘Please forgive its meagre contents. I cannot leave my customers, you see. Berwick Street market is just down the road.’

‘I shall go there today, Sir. Mrs Lucas will have the very best pie to eat tonight.’

‘Oh, joy!’ Lucas patted his pockets. ‘Before we open, I shall give you a whole two and six pence. Is that enough do you think?’

‘I am sure it will be, Sir.’

‘Then I shall make haste and call Clara.’

Ettie found no difficulty in preparing the meal, even with the few items she found in the larder. for the nuns had taught her how to make a great show of very little.

‘I can’t recall when we ate eggs cooked so deliciously,’ Clara exclaimed as she sat at the breakfast table.

Ettie served the poached eggs on slices of thin toast lavished with butter. Added to the hot coffee, and presented on the very best china that she had discovered hidden at the bottom of the chiffonier, the first meal she had cooked for the couple was a success.

‘Do please sit down and eat with us,’ offered Clara. ‘The house is sparkling. You must have risen early.’

‘I have eaten, thank you, Mrs Benjamin,’ Ettie replied, although she had been too nervous to eat breakfast.

‘A perfect start to the day,’ said Clara dabbing her napkin at the corner of her mouth. ‘I feel so much better this morning. I am sure I could not eat a fig more.’

‘Ettie, you have worked wonders,’ said Lucas gratefully. ‘If only we had known you before …’ He stopped and glanced at his wife. ‘It is so wonderful to see Clara with roses in her cheeks.’

As Ettie cleared the table, she wondered what Lucas