Her mouth dropped open, but then she grinned.
“I think it is time to join the others. When we are together, you may call me Jane, but with company, even just your father or the servants, you should call me Miss Jane. That way they will think that I am doing my job,” I said, and she grinned again.
We went and joined the others, and Katie behaved impeccably. Groves served a lamb stew and dumplings, which was about the nicest meal I ever remember tasting. I was famished, but had to eat slowly and ever so politely. It occurred to me that however my new body was enhanced, my taste buds must have also been enhanced. I was served a glass of Madeira wine, having to resist the urge to ask for a Budweiser.
At one point, her aunt asked Katie to stop kicking the table leg, and Katie looked at me, so I simply nodded and she immediately stopped, saying, “I am sorry Aunt Maud, I didn’t know I was doing it.”
Roger stared at her and then at me. I simply smiled and ate my food. There was sufficient for seconds and Roger had some. My plate was clean, so he offered me some more. I accepted, aware that in polite society nice girls should only eat a small amount. I wasn’t a nice girl - I was a starving Marine.
“Faith, Jane, I do like a girl with a good appetite. It is so refreshing,” he said.
“To eat too much is grossly unseemly and a sign of a rough upbringing,” offered Maud, in a prissy voice. I felt the anger rise in my breast.
“When you have had as little as I for so long, I am afraid you can take my upbringing and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” I said, but instantly regretted it.
Maud stared at me with an open mouth, while Roger paused with his fork on the way to his mouth. Katie simply dissolved into giggles.
Roger put his fork down and burst into laughter, tears rolling down his cheeks, as his daughter and sister stared at him. Finally, he controlled himself, wiping his eyes with his white linen table napkin.
“Daddy, I haven’t heard you laugh like that since before Mama died,” Katie said.
He looked at her and smiled. “No, I haven’t had too much to laugh about,” he said, and then looked at me, “Perhaps now I have.”
I looked down, aware that I was blushing.
Maud sniffed disapprovingly, so I stifled a giggle. Roger noted and smiled, which made me worse. I changed it into a cough, which fooled no one, except perhaps Maud.
Groves cleared the table, bringing a steaming apple pie and custard. Roger served it up, giving me an enormous slice, which I dispatched with alacrity.
Roger observed and smiled at me, saying nothing. The clock in the hall struck two, so Maud rose.
“Roger, I must go, I have an appointment at two thirty with my dressmaker,” she announced.
She turned to me and, through a superior sneer, said, “It was interesting to meet you, no doubt you will not last long, but I wish you well.”
“You underestimate me, Madam. One thing I am famed for is lasting,” I said, holding her glare and returning it so she broke off first. We did not like each other, she and I.
She kissed Katie on the cheek and the little girl made a face, wiping her cheek with her hand as soon as the woman turned away. She then kissed her brother, who went with her into the hall.
I could hear her voice, whining and unpleasant.
“Roger, I do think you ought to reconsider, I do not believe that that girl is the right sort at all.”
“And why is that, pray, Maud?” Roger’s voice had a guarded edge to it, but Maud went on, oblivious.
“Oh, she is rather too vulgar, and certainly forward. I believe she has her eyes on you as a husband.”
Roger laughed.
“For goodness sakes, Maud, I’m a penniless soldier, with two brats and little income. She is a striking beauty, who could have any wealthy man in the land if she so desired. Besides, have you not seen that already Katie does as she is bid?”
“Hmph. Trickery, if you ask me.”
“Goodbye Maud, please do not question my decisions in my house ever again,” Roger said, a note of anger creeping into his voice.
“Roger. I am only looking after your interests,” Maud replied, her voice whining awfully now.
“Rubbish. You are looking after yours. You will do me the service of minding your own business, and not interfering with mine. Mother is dead, you have no right to try to take her place,” he said, and the front door slammed.
He returned to the dining room, still a little flushed.
“I am sorry, sir. It was not my intention to cause discord between you and your sister,” I said.
He looked at me and smiled.
“Dear Jane, my sister and I have experienced discord ever since I can remember. I am sorry that she behaved like an unpleasant harridan towards you.”
“It is of no account. As I said, I am capable of looking after myself.”
“Of that, I have no doubt whatsoever,” he said.
After lunch, Katie and I went for a walk along the banks of the river Thames. We wrapped up warm, as there was a cold wind and it looked like rain. I found it amazing that only a few hours ago I was traipsing around with no clothes on at all.
It was fascinating seeing a period of history about which I knew very little. I had only studied American History after a fashion. I was aware that at this time the early colonists were still fighting for independence. Indeed, Napoleon had sold the whole of Louisiana to the Americans for the equivalent of 5 cents an acre. He was so desperate for funds to fight his battles in Europe.
However, even with Napoleon Bonaparte on continental Europe, life in England seemed very sedate and calm. That, having been said, we were on the eve of the industrial revolution, so the gulf between the rich and poor was immense. The emerging middle classes were only just beginning to wrest some of the ill-gotten gains from the aristocracy and landowners, but it was a hard battle.
The river traffic was prolific, as the Thames was the highway of this part of England. We watched the barges as the enormous horses tugged them along and the little boys threw bread at the ducks, as they have done for centuries. Once outside the cities and town, the roads were simple tracks that became mud in poor weather. Inside the towns, few of the streets were anything other than cobbled or crude gravel.
We walked home, as Katie began to talk to me about her mother. She missed her dreadfully, and she described a picture of a gentle loving woman, with patience and an artistic streak. Katie was almost in tears as she told me what they used to get up to, and my heart went out to the small girl.
“She was very pretty,” Katie said. “Daddy had her portrait done. It hangs in his study over his desk.”
“I should like to see it. I am sorry I never met her,” I said.
She looked at me. “You are pretty too, but in a different way.”
I smiled. “How different?”
“You are not as dainty as she was. You make some men frightened, I think.”
I laughed. “Why is that?” I asked.
“Because they don’t like clever women, who are as good at things as they are. They like girls to be sissy and silly. Like Aunt Maud.”
“Not all women are like your aunt,” I said.
“No, thank goodness. My last governesses were. I am glad you are not.”
“Good,” I said, as we headed back to the Manor.
Katie was a highly intelligent little girl, who had taken the birth of her brother and death of her mother rather badly. Her maternal grandparents, now having lost their daughter, doted on the child, spoiling her rotten. The Major saw a good deal of his beloved late-wife in Katie, so did not have it in his heart to scold her, as he should. However, recognising that a child needed discipline was more than happy for me to take on such a task.
When I told her that my (supposed) parents were both dead, and my sisters too, she was very quiet, taking my hand in hers.
“It is awful being alone. But I will always be your friend,” she said.