Page 41 of The Favourite

“Where did you spring from?” Jane blurted in surprise.

“The kitchens,” he said waving a vague hand in that direction. “Wat will bring your food out shortly.”

“Wat?” Jane was astonished. “But why would your servant—?” At that moment, Wat entered, forestalling her. He was carrying a salver piled with bread, butter, and honey.

“Where is everyone?” Jane asked in puzzlement. “And why is it that Wat is serving us at table?”

“Hmmm?” Alisander looked from her to Wat and then back again. “Oh, I dismissed them all.”

“Dismissed them?” Jane turned to stare at him.

“Yes,” he agreed, sitting down opposite her. “You must agree, my dear, that they were hardly worth retaining.”

Jane’s mouth fell open. “All of them?” she squeaked.

“Well, maybe not every single one,” he extemporized. “There was still some old crone turning the spit when I left the kitchens. Oh, and a young lad mucking out the stables.”

Jane looked around a little wildly as Wat set the food down before her. “I scarcely know what to say,” she started.

“Oh, and the nursery staff of course,” he added thoughtfully. “I have not approached them. Yet.”

Well, thank heavens for small mercies! “Who is tending to Davis?” she asked after taking a deep breath.

“Who?”

“The injured—you know full well, who I mean,” she broke out with exasperation.

“The injured—?” A look of comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh, him. Well, between the spit-turner and the mucker out, I am sure they can see adequately to hisneeds.”

Jane paused in the act of selecting a piece of bread. “This is a huge house, Alisander,” she pointed out, rather tartly. “It cannot run with a staff of only two servants.”

“I feel sure there must be more than two left,” he said frowning. “Wait, there is another locked in the attics upstairs, I believe.”

“Ayleth?” Jane asked, wide-eyed. “Have you seen her, then?”

He shook his head. “I have heard of her by reputation alone. And then, of course, there is—” At this moment, Beth slipped discreetly into the room. “—this young woman.” Beth looked more startled than Jane. “Tell me, mistress Bess—”

“It’s Beth,” Jane muttered through clenched teeth.

“How liked you serving in Sir Phillip’s employ?”

Jane’s eyes flew to Beth’s face which seemed for a moment to grow rather tight. The girl recovered quickly. “Why, as to that, my lord, I scarcely know the gentleman. Sir Phillip has not resided in this house above a few weeks.”

“Ah, but I have heard you knew him long before that,” Alisander said critically. “Come, you must not be reticent with us.”

Jane held her breath. How had he known that? A clever guess? Beth’s composure slipped and she looked almost afraid. “Yes, my lord,” she gulped. Rather than press the girl, Alisander held his tongue, reaching for some bread which he started unhurriedly to butter.

Beth smoothed her hands down her skirts and cleared her throat. “My mother served in his late wife’s employ,” she answered, her expression a strange mixture of defiant and mortified. Jane rather wondered at it.

“Your mother is yet living?” Alisander asked, idly glancing up as Wat re-entered bearing a jug of ale.

“Yes, my lord, only she’s respectably married now.” These last few words were choked, and the significance of them took Jane a moment to catch. Oh. The implication was clear enough. Beth’s mother had no room at her table for her illegitimate daughter.

“So, you must fend for yourself, Beth?” Jane asked quietly as Wat passed her a foaming cup of ale.

Beth lifted her chin. “Sir Phillip, he found me this position and the two I held before it.”

“I see,” Alisander commented, looking directly at Jane. There seemed to be the light of query in his eye, though she had no notion what he could be asking her.