A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Six
"They're the finest family in
Westchester County...well, one of 'em, anyways. Been working for 'em for nine
years now," Bridie told Rose proudly. "I don't suppose I have to tell
you to be on yer best behavior at all times," she added, her tone of voice
changing suddenly to that of a stern parent.
"Yes, of course," Rose said.
Bridie had been lecturing her in this fashion
for two days. Early Monday morning, before Rose left the apartment, Bridie had
telephoned to inform her that she had spoken about her to her employers and
they wanted very much to meet her on Wednesday. Since then, she'd been filling
Rose's head with information about the Scott family, one of the wealthiest and
most influential in Tarrytown, a community located north of the city on the
Hudson River.
"They have four children, two boys and
two girls, but you'll be a chambermaid, so you won't be having much contact
with 'em. Oh, and I should warn you, Mrs. Scott is expecting her fifth, so
you'd best be stayin' out of her way as well," Bridie instructed as they
made their way toward the Third Avenue El station.
Rose had never ridden mass transit in the
city before (with the exception of the train from Philadelphia), and much of
what Bridie was saying went in one ear and out the other as they climbed the
stairs and Bridie paid the nickel fare for each of them. Even at six in the
morning, an eclectic group of passengers was already beginning to fill the car.
Most took no notice whatsoever of Rose and her companion. She loved it.
"Sometimes, if I leave early enough, I
take the trolley," Bridie was saying, raising her voice to be heard above
the noise. "It's so much nicer. But today, the missus wants us there at
eight sharp, and this gets us to Grand Central faster."
Grand Central Depot was a hub of activity,
complicated by the fact that the building was under construction. Rose had
never had to run faster to keep up with anyone as she did with Bridie that morning.
Again, Bridie purchased both their tickets, while Rose hung back and watched
all the travelers.
"Come now, there's no time to be a
tourist." Bridie was suddenly back at her side. "Our train leaves in
ten minutes."
The Hudson River Line advertised this weekday
morning train as an "express," but it still took nearly an hour to
reach their destination. Bridie offered a window seat to Rose, but the younger
woman declined. She hadn't been near a body of water since she left the
Carpathia, and she had no desire to look at one now, no matter how scenic and
peaceful the view.
Truth be told, Rose was terrified. She knew
she had never met the Scotts, yet she was aware from Bridie's description of
what circles they traveled in--suppose they were acquainted with her mother or
the Hockleys?
Her fear intensified as the conductor called
out their stop, and she trailed along behind Bridie, who continued talking.
"I must tell you, the Scotts are quite--how shall I put this?--liberal.
They pay well, and are mighty generous in giving days off. But they're not very
strict with the younguns, either. Been through five nannies in the last four
years, they have.
"But they don't bother me," she
added in a confidential tone. "I've been with that family since they lived
in New York, helped raise the little buggers...ah, here's Randolph now."
She indicated what looked to be a brand-new
Model-T Ford, which was pulling up to the train depot. The chauffeur had silver
hair over a kind, distinguished face. He smiled warmly at Rose as he assisted
her onto the sideboard and into the back seat of the vehicle. "How do you
do, miss?"
The Scott estate wasn't far from the train
station. All the way, Bridie chattered. She was beginning to rival her sister
in that department.
"The Rockefellers live in this area,
ain't that right, Randolph? They've invited the Scotts to many a function--and
have attended a few at the house. If you're lucky, you'll get to serve at some
of these fancy affairs."
The car was now climbing a steep hill, atop
of which sat a Colonial style mansion on a well-landscaped lawn. They followed
a curving tree-lined driveway to an open garage, where Randolph helped the
ladies out. Before following the others into the house through a side entrance,
Rose caught a glimpse of the Hudson, a small lighthouse bobbing in its waters.
Inside the entryway was a narrow closet,
where Randolph hung all of their coats. Rose checked her hair, which was pinned
into a modest bun, in a mirror beside the closet, as Bridie proceeded to show
her the way through an enormous kitchen and into the main foyer. There she was
cautioned to wait while Bridie knocked on a closed door.
Rose heard a muffled giggle and looked up. A
pixie-like face was staring at her through the bars at the top of the
stairwell. In a flash, the face disappeared.
"Rose? The missus can see you now."
Bridie gestured for Rose to follow her into the study.
The room had a cozy appearance, its walls
lined with overstuffed bookshelves and cut logs stacked beside a stone
fireplace. An oak writing desk sat before a window which offered a breathtaking
view of the river and the mountains beyond. At this desk sat a tall woman with
flowing blond curls. She stood and, wearing a broad smile, came around the desk
and took Rose's hand. Rose was shocked to see that she'd chosen to wear a dress
that did nothing to conceal her pregnancy, which was about as advanced as
Madeline Astor's had been aboard the Titanic.
"I'm Victoria Scott. It's a pleasure to
meet you," she said. "You must forgive me for shutting the door; I
was writing some correspondence. Bridie, please be a dear and bring us some
coffee?"
"Now, miss, you know what the doctor
said--" Bridie began.
"I know what he said," Victoria
responded. "Be sure and make it strong."
Bridie mumbled under her breath, but obeyed.
"She's always trying to look out for
me," Victoria laughed. "My doctor says no coffee, Bridie won't let me
indulge unless I have company. Oh, well, while we're waiting for my husband,
why don't you tell me about yourself?"
Rose squirmed, not knowing where to begin.
She had never been on a job interview before. She was still trying to reconcile
what she'd heard about Mrs. Scott with the bold, vivacious woman in front of
her.
"Bridie tells me your parents died
recently," Victoria prodded gently. "I'm so sorry."
"Thank you."
Just then there was a loud clatter and a
frightful cry from the foyer. "Lord, 'ave mercy, child! You come back here
and help me clean this up, y'hear?"
There was only a child's laughter in
response.
"Oh, dear, here we go again."
Victoria rolled her eyes, stood and marched out the door. Curiosity got the
better of Rose and she followed.
She was amazed to see Victoria kneeling to
help Bridie, who was placing broken pieces of china on a silver tea tray.
"Please, miss, I've got it," Bridie
said, a worried edge to her voice, and she helped her boss awkwardly to her
feet.
"Josie!" Victoria yelled up the
staircase. "Josephine, come down here NOW!"
Come Josephine, in my flying machine...
Rose suddenly felt lightheaded.
The little girl she had spotted earlier was
coming downstairs reluctantly, pausing after each step. Rose took a good look
at her face, and her heart began racing. She found herself swaying and grabbed
hold of the study door for support.
The child was the spitting image of Cora
Cartmell, the girl Jack befriended in the steerage section of the Titanic.