Eugenia (A Lady's Maid Trilogy Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter One

Pain spiked through my head as Miss Evans tried to drag the comb through my hair. The only way I kept from crying out was by biting on my lip. Growing up, I had thought that one day, eventually, I would become accustomed to the pain.

Such was not the case.

"Miss Burnham, please hold still, or I will never be able to do anything with your hair," Miss Evans said, a note of impatience in her voice. She muttered something too low for me to hear, and I guessed it had something to do with the difficulty of my hair.

It wasn't my fault I had thick hair, and I was sure I had kept as still as it was possible for someone to be when their hair felt as though it were being pulled from their head!

In the mirror, I saw Mary cast a sympathetic glance in my direction as she put away the dress she'd helped me out of earlier. Since Evans was primarily Mama's maid, I relied on Mary to assist me. She was not much better in managing my hair, but she didn't blame me whenever she struggled, which made me prefer her over Evans.

Finally, my hair was arranged into what was a passable chignon at the back of my neck. Evans had muttered under her breath the entire time. A few rebellious locks were already escaping their confinement.

"Thank you. That will be all, Evans," I said quickly, fearing the maid would want to make another attempt.

Quite honestly, I didn't believe it would make any difference. The other girls in society were all far prettier than I. What chance had I of competing with them when I was dull and uninteresting?

Evans gave my hair one last glare and then she hurried out. Mary scowled after her. "She won't be lasting much longer here, Miss Eugenia," she said with a certainty that worried me. "Mrs. Wilder says she sent off several letters. Responding to advertisements, if I had to guess."

"Oh, I hope not!"

Mama had gone through at least four lady's maids in the last six months. Although Jane Evans could do nothing to help my hair troubles, I didn't want to go through the stressful prospect of being without a maid while Mama found another one.

"I didn't think it was possible for someone to put on more airs than that Lizette Dubre," Mary said, shaking her head. "French, my foot! She was as French as my mother."

As ever, Mary's straightforward speech made me smile. I remembered the lady's maid she referred to. Whenever Lizette had struggled with arranging my hair, she'd lost all trace of her French accent and had used language that had made my cheeks burn. She had lasted four weeks, which was the current record in our household.

"If I had straight, manageable hair, we wouldn't have a problem keeping a maid here." I frowned at my reflection. The rosettes that adorned my gown were plentiful, and I wasn't sure it flattered me at all.

"That's not true! If she were worth anything, she'd know what to do with your hair!" Mary said immediately. "I reckon I take better care of you than she ever does."

I twisted around in the chair and forced a smile. "Of course." It was no secret that Mary wished to become a lady's maid. There were just too many rough spots for her to work on for it to be possible. "If Evans does leave us, maybe her replacement would be willing to train you so you can take care even better."

Mary beamed with pride. "I wouldn't ask Miss Evans to show me what's what. She turns her nose up at me enough as it is."

With a shake of my head, I rose and slipped my gloves onto my hands. Mary handed me a shawl, although I feared it would prove to have little effect with the air so cool. Still, I was as ready as I was ever going to be.