Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Servants' Hall
Despite Julian's protection, the manor itself was divided. In the servant quarters below the grand dining hall, whispers traveled fast through the pantry and linen rooms.
"She played her cards well, didn't she?" sneered Mrs. Gable, the veteran head housekeeper who had served Victoria’s family for years. "From folding bedsheets to sitting in the private parlor. An old trick."
Clara, carrying a pitcher of tea back to the kitchen, stopped just outside the doorway. The sting was bitter, but she kept her head high. She had cleaned these floors on her knees; she knew the quiet dignity of hard work.
Suddenly, Mrs. Gable’s voice cut off.
May you like
Mrs. Higgins, the elderly head cook who had practically raised Julian after his mother died, stepped forward, wiping her hands on her apron. "Shut your wicked mouth, Martha. Clara stayed up three straight nights during the winter blizzard feeding the furnace when the power failed, while you were drinking sherry in your quarters. That girl has more grace in her little finger than you have in your entire bitter body."
Clara stood in the corridor, a single tear running down her cheek. Compassion was alive even in the darkest corners.
