The MacGuffin - Chapter 4

life of a governess in a wealthy Victorian household

“Allow yourself to slip back to a time when you were known as Tessie MacBrady. Do you remember it?”

Work and other responsibilities had kept Tessa from hearing this tape despite a strong desire to do so. The Newman mergers had finally closed to everyone’s satisfaction. Two other business ventures had crossed her desk. Dinners and evenings out with Daniel had left Tessa too tired to wait for him to start rattling the walls with his snores. Why she had not shared the existence of the tapes with her boyfriend was a question Tessa chose not to confront. But finally she was sequestered in front of a low fire in the living room listening to the hiss of quiet audiotape again. The silence lasted to the point of distraction. Maybe the MacBrady memory was not strong enough. But then the Irish brogue reappeared. Tessa listened as Dr. Baille asked for simple details of Tessie’s life.

Tessie MacBrady, according to the voice on the tape, had been born in County Galway but immigrated to England via Wales due to the spreading starvation in her native land. She worked most of her life as a governess for a wealthy English family. When Dr. Baille asked about her older years, the voice took on a raspy sound and explained that consumption had taken her shortly before the upcoming nuptials of her youngest charge. She had never seen her beloved Ireland again. Dr. Baille then asked if Tessie could remember any important or unusual events in her life.

 

It was a chilly morning as Tessie MacBrady slipped down to the kitchen to get the usual glass of warmed and sweetened milk for Miss Victoria May. The youngest of the Winchester girls awoke hungry every morning. Tessie thought of her own youngest sister at that age. Unfortunately, there had seldom been milk for Bridget, only potato water. The familiar sadness tugged at Tessie’s heart. No time for self-pity; she had a full day ahead. Today the girls must learn teatime protocols according to their father’s request. Tessie had no idea why Lord Winchester wanted his young daughters to begin this training now. Most young ladies living in Victorian high society did not attend formal teas until they were in their early teens and the oldest Winchester girl was only approaching her tenth birthday. To add to the already busy day, the family was to sit for Monsieur Navez, the popular portrait painter at midmorning. Hilde had arranged for three new dresses to be made for the girls and it would be Tessie’s chore to have them prepared and in the parlor on time.

All of this was running through Tessie’s mind as she walked directly into the broad back of Cook. The governess had no idea what Cook’s given name was since no one ever used it. She was simply Cook, amicable and productive Cook. Tessie took the glass of milk that Cook had been pouring and scooped up the plate of scones and jam obviously awaiting her arrival. Tessie quickly vacated the Cook’s dominion and headed up the back staircase toward the nursery. Unfortunately her Irish luck failed her again as Hilde turned the corner of the staircase into Tessie’s path.

“Vat is dis?” the housekeeper demanded in her thick German accent.

“Breakfast,” Tessie mumbled as she tried to squeeze past the sizeable woman.

“Dis is not nutritious meal for growing girls. Cook, we have fruits and porridge, no?”

Cook ignored the question, knowing full well that Hilde’s power ended at the walls of the kitchen. Tessie wished she could say the same about the nursery but Hilde was a formidable woman and Tessie was frightened of her. Tessie knew better than to start this argument again but the words escaped her mouth before her brain could stop them.

“The girls hate porridge. I can barely get them to eat it when the weather is frigid, let alone on the warmer days.”

“Ve must feed the girls vat is good for them, not vat they vant.” The stern German woman pulled herself up to her full height. Hilde was not much taller than Tessie but her formidable size made the young governess feel tiny and powerless. Tessie looked for help from Cook but that broad back was turned toward her as well.

Tessie allowed her shoulders to slump and called over to Cook. “Is there a pot of porridge on this morning?”

Cook harrumphed. With a strong emphasis on the first word, she replied, “No one eats porridge in the warm weather. There may be a hint of fall in the air this morning but it will soon burn off and then we’ll be wanting for ices.”

Tessie thanked Cook and slid past the German housekeeper. If she thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have run back down the stairs to hug Cook. She slipped in through the nursery door and made her way to the large crib. She really must talk to her ladyship about getting Miss Victoria May a proper child’s bed. Miss Sarah Elizabeth had been in a full-sized bed at four and supposedly Miss Mary Alexandra had been in a trundle bed shortly after her second birthday. Tessie reached between the bars and tickled her youngest charge’s left foot. The foot disappeared under the blankets. Another tickle on the right foot and a giggle issued from the other end of the coverlets.

“Hush, Sugarplum, want your glass of warm milk?”

A curly blond head appeared with a broad smile. The bright four-year-old put a finger to her lips and nodded heartedly. Tessie set the glass aside to help the girl sit up straight and then passed the glass over. Miss Victoria May greedily gulped down half the glass and then leaned toward her governess.

“Lexie had dreams again,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“She did?”

“Uh-ha. She was calling for Layda again.”

Tessie frowned at this news. No one knew where the name Layda had come from or why Mary Alexandra spent her nights searching for this unknown woman or girl. At one time her ladyship had felt the need to call in the doctor’s opinion about these night terrors. The doctor had recommended a draught of warm milk and hops at bedtime to give her a more restful sleep. The intervals between incidences were lengthening as time went on but the nighttime searches had not ceased.

“Come on, Sugarplum, let’s be after starting your morning meal while I wake your sisters.” Tessie lifted the child over the bars and set her at the nursery table. Victoria May placed her glass above the plate already set out and eyed the platter on the sideboard. “Did Cooky make scones? I asked her p’litely.” The little girl’s legs danced inches above the floor.

Tessie grinned at the eager anticipation and placed the serving plate within the child’s reach. “Want some preserves on yours?” Tessie ripped open a biscuit to slather it with the fruit compote. She patted Victoria May’s head and slipped over to the far side of the room where the two larger beds sat against the wall each to one side of the large south window. She pulled back the heavy velveteen drapes and allowed the light to bathe the room in golden warmth.

A moan erupted from the larger lump. “Please, Tessie, just a few more minutes. Lexie kept me awake half the night.”

The soft brown curls of Miss Mary Alexandra appeared over a clouded face. “I most certainly did no such thing.”

“You did. You were crying for that Kayla again.” Sarah Elizabeth’s own pale face and hair had come from under her blankets as well.

From the table, Victoria May felt the need to add her own thoughts. “Layda. Lexie called for Layda just two times.”

Lexie suddenly looked depressed and ducked back under the coverlet. Tessie thought she could hear a quiet sob. “Miss Lizzie, go keep May-May company. There’s scones and jam. I have to fetch your tea.” Tessie patted the lump that was Mary Alexandra. “Come, Sweetlet, you mustn’t fret. It’s been some time since you had one of your episodes so don’t be upset. Come, you must be at your breakfast for we have a busy day.”

Tessie gave the lump a hug and then headed for the door. “I will be right back with teas. Please, Miss Lexie, get out o’bed.” She stopped just a moment to wipe a dribble of jam from Victoria May’s chin and drifted out the door.

Back in the kitchen, Tessie was surprised to find Lady Winchester conferring with Cook. Tessie slipped behind her ladyship to the counter where sat the tea tray for the older girls. “Good morning, Ma’am.” Tessie dropped a curtsey.

“Tessie.” The lady of the manor smiled, showing her perfect teeth. “I do hope the girls are at their breakfast. They do have to be ready for Monsieur Navez at half past the hour of ten.”

Tessie curtseyed again. “Yes, Ma’am. They’ll be ready, Ma’am.” She latched onto the tray and headed back toward the stairs.

“On what, may I inquire, are the girls breaking their fast?” Lady Winchester eyed both Tessie and Cook with that question.

Tessie halted but Cook quickly replied. “Fresh scones and fruit compote, Ma’am. Made them myself at dawn.”

Lady Winchester laughed heartedly. “I can well imagine that Hilde was not impressed.” Tessie shook her head mutely.  “I thought not,” her ladyship continued. “Mmm. Any of those scones left for my breakfast, Cook?”

As the cook and the mistress returned to their conversation, Tessie hurried back to the nursery. Although Lady Winchester had never been anything but kind, Tessie always felt like a mouse in the presence of a barn cat. All three girls were talking through mouthfuls of jam when Tessie stepped back into the large room. The nursery took up a full half of the second floor of the north wing of the house. The other half consisted of three small rooms, two of which were presently occupied by Tessie and Hilde. The third was used as a sickroom for the girls or any seriously ill house staff members.

 

At twenty-five minutes past ten on the nursery clock, Tessie finished tying the white satin bows into the girls’ hair. She stepped back to take one last critical look at her work. She adjusted a stray curl next to Mary Alexandra’s face and declared them the prettiest girls in all of England. She straightened her uniform apron and led the girls down to the parlor. Lord Winchester was discoursing on which angle of the room was best. Monsieur Navez seemed to feel that the family should stand opposite the large bay window so that he could have light for some time. Lady Winchester, who had been amused by the conversation between her husband and the artist, came to greet her daughters.

“Oh, my dears, you all look so lovely. Hilde did well in choosing the dresses.” A gloved hand reached out to set aright the same stray curl on Mary Alexandra. “How did you sleep, my dear?” she asked softly. Noticing the drop of Lexie’s chin, she quickly added, “No matter. These nights happen less often and soon we will have completely forgotten them.” The lady’s eyes traveled over each of the girls but came to an abrupt stop at Victoria May. “What on earth are you wearing about your neck, Child?”

To avoid a repeat of the tears and wails that she had endured just a short while before, Tessie quickly stepped in. “It’s a trinket we found in the attics a few days back, Ma’am. She hasn’t stopped wearing it since. I had such a horrid fight with the wee thing about it so I gave in, hoping that maybe Monsieur could just avoid painting it.”

The object of discussion was an ugly necklace made of alternating chunks of a silvery metallic stone and misshapen crystals of a putrid shade of green. Tessie had taken the girls on an adventure in the attics a few days back to bide away a rainy day. In an old cedar trunk, they had found a sailor’s uniform wrapped in linen, some papers, and the necklace. Miss Victoria May had immediately declared it one of the royal jewels and staked it as her own. The older two were quite happy to let their little sister have the ugly thing since they had found pretty promenade dresses in another trunk. Lady Winchester had already acknowledged everything in that attic to be of no use to the household and offered that the girls could take what they wanted. Since that day, Victoria May had only removed the necklace long enough to sleep at night. Tessie had barely managed that by suggesting the necklace would break if it were worn to bed. She explained all this quickly to Her Ladyship while Victoria May’s face clouded.

Lady Winchester lifted the front of her burgundy gown and lowered herself to her youngest daughter’s level. “May-May, could Mama have the necklace for a little while, please?” Victoria May shook her head vigorously. Tessie could see tears welling up and worried about the white dress the child wore. Without standing, the lady called over her shoulder. “Monsieur, may I speak with you for a moment, please?”

Lady Winchester and the artist discussed the situation. “But of course, Madame, it is of no difficulty. Today, I will simply be making the drawing. We will be putting in the colors tomorrow. By tomorrow, maybe we can convince la petite to remove the object long enough for the sitting.” Monsieur Navez looked straight at Tessie with the latter.  He returned his gaze to Her Ladyship. “I too have une petite who loves the bright trinkets.”

The rest of the morning progressed satisfactorily as Monsieur Navez posed the family members and settled in to sketch them. Tessie was surprised and very pleased at how well the girls behaved. No one was allowed to leave or move until Monsieur had the sketch completed. Tessie stood to one side in case any of the family should need a nose wiped or an itch scratched. Finally just before the hall clock chimed the noon hour bells, Monsieur allowed that he had done enough for today; he would return early the next day to begin “the colors”.

Tessie herded her charges off to the nursery to change into their normal frocks and to take their midday meal. While the girls ate, Tessie slipped off to find Lady Winchester. If she was to start etiquette lessons with all of the girls, it might be best if they were given the opportunity to eat in the formal dining room for their evening repast. Tessie found the mistress of the house reading a note that had just arrived by messenger. Lady Winchester looked up and saw the young governess.

“Oh Tessie, could you be a dear and go find Hilde for me please. I don’t want to have to ring for her.” She went back to reading the note.

Tessie hurried off to find the housekeeper. As little as she wanted to deal with the harsh German woman, it was unthinkable to say no to her ladyship. It took some time before Tessie found the housekeeper talking with the laundress who came in twice a week. She relayed the message and then dashed off to the nursery. She rarely left the girls alone this long without giving them some task first. Surely by now they would have finished their meal and be into some sort of mischief. To her dismay, she was correct. The girls had pulled out their own paints and were doing imitations of Monsieur Navez.

Another change of clothing and the tidying of the paints were followed with getting Victoria May to settle down for her nap. Now came the time each day for the other two to take their music lessons. Since Tessie had no skill with an instrument other than the voice, this meant that she had an hour to herself four days a week. Mondays and Thursdays, Sarah Elizabeth took piano lessons with Miss Prudence, Lord Winchester’s ward, while Mary Alexandra took music theory with Hilde. Wednesdays and Fridays these were reversed. Tuesdays, Tessie gave the girls vocal training and on Saturdays she taught them the sea-faring songs and old folk tunes that she had often sung at home in Ireland.

Today, being a Thursday, allowed Tessie the time to run into the market to send off the letter she had written to her folks along with more than half the wages she had received. Her family was quite dependent on financial support from her and her brother Tommy who was serving in the British army in far off Bengal. The money they sent home paid the rent on the farm so that their da would not lose it like so many of his fellows had done. Someday the farm would produce healthy potatoes once more.

Tessie returned home with plenty of time to spare before she would have to collect the two older girls and waken Victoria May. The thought of a good cup of tea enticed her to the kitchen. Besides, conversation with Cook was always good as long as she helped peel vegetables for the pot. Tessie practically skipped into the kitchen to find the mistress there for the second time in one day.

“I would gladly do this for you, Milady, but my eyes would be closed only a moment or two and I would be off to Slumberland. I have a tendency to snore when I sleep so it would never do.” Cook spied Tessie at the doorway. “Ma’am, could Tessie not do this favor for you?”

Lady Winchester was wearing a somber blue-grey skirt and jacket over a soft pink blouse. Her lips had been painted a similar hue of pink. Her golden brown hair was still tied up with the silver and black snood she had worn for the session with Monsieur Navez. Surprisingly, a silver slipper appeared and disappeared under the hem of the skirt. Sarah Elizabeth had the same habit of swinging her foot back and forth when she was stressed. “Oh, Tessie, dear, come in. I did not see you standing there.”

Tessie curtseyed. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just came in from my trip to the post and wanted a cup of tea. I’ll come back later.”

“No, no, no. Do come in. Cook will pour you a cup.” Tessie noticed the glance between mistress and favored servant. “I am afraid that I have a predicament. I am to host a séance this evening. The Reverend Moses is introducing a young Mesmerist from America for the first time tonight. He insists that we must have thirteen at the table including himself and Mr. Randolph. My good friend, Mrs. Devon, has taken ill and can no longer attend and I do not have time to make out an invitation to someone else. Would you be willing to join us?”

Tessie sipped the tea that Cook had placed before her during the lady’s speech.  She was confused by Lady Winchester’s request. She had to have misunderstood something since servants never socialized with their employer. “I do not understand,” she admitted. “What is a say-ounce?”

Cook immediately needed to check the stew pot over the fire. Lady Winchester kindly hid a grin in her hanky. “Séance.” The word sounded very French when repeated by the lady. “It is a gathering of people who are willing to hear what the spirits have to say. Usually the Mesmerist goes into the spirit world and tries to talk to someone who is known to a person at the table. Sometimes he speaks to famous dead people.”

Tessie thought about this for a minute. “He talks to ghosts?”

“No, no, my dear. Ghosts do not know they have passed on and therefore have not made the transition properly. No, Mr. Randolph will be talking to those who have gone onto another state of being.”

“So, he talks to the people living in Heaven.” Tessie thought she was beginning to understand.

“You could say that.”

“Could he talk to my sister Bridget?”

“I do not know, dear. Sometimes the Mesmerist has no control as to whom he can converse. But we can ask him to try, if you would like.”

This required no thought on Tessie’s part. She nodded her acquiescence. Then reality sunk in. “Oh no, I cannot. I do not have anything suitable to wear.”

“Reverend Moses prefers us to wear grey or black. Do you not have a mourning dress?”

Tessie shook her head sadly. “I have a black sailcloth. But it is hardly suitable for society.” She felt wretched.

Lady Winchester reached out and took one of Tessie’s hands in hers. “Let us see this dress and we will decide if it is suitable or not. I am most certain we can find something for you if it is not.”

 

Lady Winchester was examining the charcoal silk gown as Tessie slowly turned in front of the mirror held by Miss Prudence. The younger woman had kindly lent Tessie the dress saying she hardly ever had a reason to wear it. Luckily, they were so similar in shape and size that the dress looked as if it had been made for Tessie. Tessie was rapturously enjoying the texture of the fabric when the door burst open and Hilde stomped in demanding to know why Tessie was so late in fetching her charges. The housekeeper was halfway through saying it was not her duty to mind the fiends when she realized that Tessie was not alone. With a scowl darkening her face, Her Ladyship informed Hilde that she would have to attend to the rest of Tessie’s duties for the day. Lady Winchester explained that Tessie would be reviewing high society etiquette in order to begin giving the girls lessons. As Hilde stepped back out of the room, gingerly closing the door, Miss Prudence broke into gales of laughter. Lady Winchester added her own chuckles. Tessie only grinned like a cathedral gargoyle.

Hours later, Tessie had tucked her charges into their beds and read them the next story in H.C. Andersen’s Fairy Tales. As Tessie was about to leave, Victoria May suddenly popped back up from her bed. “Tessie, wear my neckless for Mama’s party.” Tessie had explained to the girls that she would be spending the evening downstairs and that Cook or Hilde would look in on them occasionally.

“Neck-lace. Thank you, May-May, but I do not think that your mama would approve.”

“Yes, she would. Your dress is too, too …” Victoria May searched for a word. “Server. You need to make it pretty.”

Tessie grinned at the little girl. “Severe. You mean the dress is severe.”

“Yes,” agreed the little girl. “Like the lady at market that Prudence did not like. The Purring lady.”

“Puritan. Miss Victoria, I will not spend the whole night running through vocabularies with you. The matter is closed. I must get downstairs.”

“Please,” the little girl pleaded. “Pleeee-ease.” And so Tessie arrived at the bottom of the great staircase wearing the ugly silver chunks and greenish crystals tucked into the high frilly collar of the borrowed dress.

 

Little of this had actually been conveyed in the story related on the audiotape but somehow the details filled themselves in as Tessa listened. It simply did not occur to her to question this anomaly as she put in the next tape with the initials T.MB.