The Maid Under the Stairs - Chapter 1
< Chapter 1 >
“Daisy, please don’t wander too far. You never know if someone among the servants might recognize us.”
Mabel whispered, wearing a black lace veil on her headpiece.
Her heart had been racing since the moment Lord Herbert had entered.
“Oh, come on, there won’t be any lower servants we know at such a fancy party. Let’s just enjoy ourselves. Look here, they say this honey cocktail is all the rage in America!”
Flushed with excitement, Daisy, her cheeks turning red, half-listened, half-ignored Mabel’s nagging, and dashed towards the table in the center of the ballroom filled with cocktail glasses. In stark contrast to the snug green satin dress she wore that hugged her body, Daisy’s face was full of innocence.
‘Inviting innocent young maids to upper-class parties just to toy with them…’
Mabel resented George Herbert, a snake-like figure who had nothing to boast about except his father’s title of Baron.
It was already widely known throughout Oxford that he preyed on innocent young maids. So, unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before Daisy, with her cute face running errands between mansions, would become George Herbert’s target.
Just last night, he had sent her an invitation to the mansion’s party, along with a glamorous dress, as Daisy had just turned eighteen.
Daisy, who had never attended such a party in her life, despite the invitation from the smirking George Herbert, was excited rather than intimidated.
‘As long as I behave well, everything will be fine, right? If you’re so worried, Mabel can come with me to look after me. After all, she’s like a sister to me.’
Perhaps not having the courage to go alone to the party, Daisy finally relented to Mabel’s continued pleading and wore the dress sent by George Herbert, twirling around in it. Despite the dim lights, the dress, with its soft sheen, radiated an orphan-like innocence even in the shabby maids’ room shared by Mabel and Daisy.
Unable to resist Daisy’s pleading that continued for days, Mabel eventually gave in and borrowed a black dress from the maid next door, Sally, to attend the party as ‘Daisy’s protector.’
‘Yielding to such obvious pleading. Maybe I’m even more innocent than Daisy.’
Mabel thought as she looked at the crowded ballroom and the band playing lively jazz music.
“Mabel, do you know you look exceptionally beautiful today? The black dress accentuates your white shoulders. Instead of standing stiffly watching over me, why don’t you join those gentlemen and enjoy a dance or two? Opportunities like this don’t come to us often.”
As if reading Mabel’s thoughts, Daisy approached her with both hands full of cocktail glasses, swaying slightly.
“Tomorrow, I’ll be back under Lord Alfred’s stairs, doing all sorts of menial tasks. Even carrying food at a party like this is forbidden for lower maids like me.”
Daisy said with unexpected sadness in her voice, softening Mabel’s nerves a bit.
At an age when dressing up was of great interest, Daisy, always timidly dressed, worked in the dark and gloomy kitchen and basement under Alfred’s mansion’s central stairs with Mabel.
“Hah… Alright, Daisy.”
Mabel, as if making a big decision, lifted her black lace veil and quickly gulped down the cocktail Daisy had handed her.
“In a few days, we’ll be hosting Mr. William Edmundstone, Lord Alfred’s nephew. And Lady Margaret, our housekeeper, will surely make life difficult for us. So…”
Mabel continued, gulping down the other cocktail Daisy handed her. The sweet scent of honey lingered on her lips.
“Let’s just pretend for tonight that we don’t belong on the mansion’s stairs. Got it?”
Daisy nodded eagerly, her white feather headpiece swaying as if she had been waiting for this. Seeing this, Mabel took a deep breath and was soon led by Daisy into the lively crowd of the ballroom.
The impeccably dressed band in black suits finished their lively performance. People, dancing to the smooth saxophone and lively piano rhythms, applauded the musicians.
Amidst the dancing crowd, where bodies swayed gracefully towards each other, the summer night at Herbert’s mansion was heating up with the young elite of the upper class.
As a new dance tune began, Mabel left the crowd and headed towards the balcony of the ballroom.
Relying on the cocktails she had been drinking, she tried to swing dance for a while, but she soon grew tired, feeling unfamiliar with the dance steps and anxious about when her identity might be revealed.
‘Who knew dancing would be harder than scrubbing the floors? Of course, Daisy still seems fine…’
Smiling at the thought of Daisy, who was enthusiastically dancing to the jazz swing, Mabel smiled.
Beyond the window, the music still played, but there was a quiet tranquility on the balcony, different from the bustling ballroom. Thanks to this, Mabel could quietly observe the people in the ballroom through the glass.
The young ladies in elegant dresses, wearing crimson gloves and adorned with feathers or exotic silk veils, looked noble at first glance, as if they were from prestigious families or the households of urban capitalists.
“Dancing to jazz music, yet the formal waltz steps learned from the family still linger.”
Mabel murmured, striving to remember the young ladies’ movements.
Since the protagonist of the novel she was currently writing was also a daughter of an upper-class household, this moment was a great opportunity for Mabel, who didn’t often get to see people of high status.
“If I had known there would be such good scenes, I would have hidden a notebook in my hat or something. It would have been a great help for writing the next chapter.”
Mabel muttered regretfully.
During the reverie, the sound of a match being lit came from the empty balcony she had just noticed. Startled, Mabel looked towards the dark edge of the balcony, where a tall and sturdy figure appeared.
The man, previously concealed in the darkness, casually walked towards Mabel, lighting his cigarette along the railing of the balcony. Soon, his face became faintly visible against the glow of the party.
Dark hair like the night sky, skin slightly tanned as if kissed by the sun, a handsome face with chiseled jawlines that looked even more rugged because of it.
‘Oh…’
Mabel’s mind went blank for a moment. She swore she had never seen such a handsome man in her life.
Beneath his summer breeze-swayed hair, his icy-blue eyes, like frozen pools, looked down at Mabel.
“Did I startle the lady?”
The man’s voice was pleasant to hear. What further befuddled Mabel, apart from his sharp features, was his gentle smile, contrasting with the intensity of his gaze.
“Oh, no, I thought I was alone on the balcony for a moment…”
Mabel curtsied slightly, maintaining the decorum of a lady.
His well-defined nose and lips beneath thick eyebrows were visible even through the faint smoke. Moreover, even without his top-notch suit, this mysterious man exuded an uncommon elegance that captivated anyone who saw him.
“I didn’t want to disturb your concentration, but I’m sorry if I did.”
Leaning casually against the balcony railing, his mere gesture caused Mabel’s face to flush. She wished her black lace veil were a bit denser.
“Are you a writer?”
His question momentarily flustered Mabel, and her face grew even redder. It was clear he had overheard her muttering and mistaken her for a writer.
“No, I just enjoy writing… I was observing things that could be useful for a short story. How the upper-class people party and dance, things like that.”
Mabel said, avoiding his probing gaze with difficulty. But for a moment, she wondered if her words sounded strange.
Originally, as an orphaned lower maid, she had to observe their parties to write stories starring nobles. But now, she was here, disguising her status. Observing upper-class parties would reveal her unfamiliarity with such events.
“I, I’m not feeling well… Actually, I’m quite frail, so I couldn’t attend these kinds of parties. I’ve never danced before, and I don’t know anyone here.”
Mabel hastily added, fearing her true status might be exposed.
“Oh, I see.”
The man replied plainly as if understanding Mabel’s concerns.
“To understand parties you don’t often attend, experiencing them firsthand is the best way.”
He said, swirling his drink on the balcony’s elegant railing. His faint smile in the semi-darkness was incredibly charming to Mabel.
“What do you think about me helping you a little?”
He approached Mabel and politely extended his hand. Just then, slower music began playing in the ballroom.
“Me dancing with you…?”
Instead of answering, he simply extended his hand. It was much larger and firmer-looking than hers.
As she hesitated, raising her hand to take his, his blue eyes, gazing at her with a smile, seemed to urge her to grasp it.
Mabel, almost spellbound, placed her hand in his warm, large hand.