Hester's Hope

Hiding her thoughts behind the mug of coffee, Hester took a long drink, and then sat the bitter brew on a scrubbed table.
“Where should I start?” she asked simply. The money offered for cleaning here was far too good to give up before she had even started. If she stayed out of the way, kept her mouth shut, and did her job, she and her uncle could relax a little with the steady income.
“Eager, ain’t ya?” the cook asked, wiping her brow with a towel draped from one shoulder. “Just as well. Maybe we’ll get a good day’s work from ya before ya run.”
“Yes,” Mrs. August agreed. “We’ll start in the dining room, and then move on to the parlor.” She shook her head in disgust. “The master is having a large gathering tonight and the grates all need cleaned.” She marched toward a small cupboard reaching in and grabbing an ash bucket and whiskbroom. “I don’t have time to show you where everything is right now. You’ll just have to learn as you go.”
“Yes ma’am.” Hester didn’t know what else to say, so she simply followed the staunch housekeeper up the stairs and into a long dining room in need of a good dusting.
“Start from the bottom and work your way up,” Mrs. August said. “I’ll expect this room spick and span by lunchtime. If you need anything, ask cook. I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.”
In a heartbeat the older woman was gone, slipping through a glossy white door at the end of the room and leaving Hester alone to assess the mess.
Making her way to the fireplace, Hester was shocked at the state of the grate. It didn’t appear to have been cleaned in at least a week, perhaps more. She had never heard of such a thing in a wealthy home like this.
Kneeling, the young woman carefully lifted the partially burnt logs, setting them on the marble hearth before scooping the ash into the pail. It was going to take a good bit of elbow grease to clean the soot-covered brick, but Hester wasn’t afraid of hard work, and the thought of being able to pay this month’s rent motivated her to put her back into it.
***
“You can’t leave, not today!” A man’s deep voice, timbered with panic, echoed through the closed door of the room where Hester worked. “You know this is the stockholder’s dinner. What will I do if you go now?”
“I don’t care what you do.” A woman’s high reedy voice drifted under the frame and Hester cringed. The voice was angry, indignant, and harsh. “I’ll not spend another minute in this house. You and your horde are pure evil.”
“Evil, now isn’t that being a bit harsh?” the man’s voice snapped. “Perhaps a bit unruly, yes, but evil. No.”
“You can use whatever words you like,” the woman said. “I’ll not be a party to any more nonsense. I’ll expect you to send my wages and my things to this address. No God-fearing woman in her right mind would stay a second in this den of wickedness.” The woman’s voice faded into nothingness as a door slamming punctuated her exit.
Hester’s hands stilled as she scrubbed at the blackened brick of the fireplace. Was what she had heard about this home only whispered rumors, or something far worse? A shiver raced down her spine as she wondered about her decision to take the job.
Pushing the unpleasant thought away, Hester finished polishing the brick, tossing the filthy rag into her pail and standing with care. It wouldn’t do to get cinders all over the floor, and she carefully shook her now filthy apron into the bucket as well.
“Who are you?”
Hester jumped, narrowly avoiding kicking the bucket and undoing her hard work at the man’s hard words.
“I’m Hester,” she stated, giving an awkward curtsy as her eyes fell on a tall man in his mid to late twenties. His dark hair stood in every direction as if tossed by the wind, and his soft eyes were troubled. “I’m the new maid.”
A bright glint entered the man’s hazel gaze and Hester almost took a step back. The predatory expression on his handsome face had her shaking where she stood. Wicked the unseen woman had said.
“New, huh?” the man ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. He didn’t look like a wealthy gentleman in his brown trousers and plain white shirt. “How new?”
“I only arrived this morning.”
A wolfish grin spread across the man’s well chiseled face as he stalked toward her. “I have a proposition for you,” he grinned shaking his head as her eyes grew wide. “How do you feel about children?”
Hester gasped. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said her voice rising into a squeak as the man stepped close.
“Do you like children?” he asked peering intensely into her face as he cocked an elbow against the dusty white mantel.
“Yes, I guess, but what does that have to do with anything.” Hester had the strangest urge to run from the man before her, but her uncle’s haggard face kept drifting before her, forcing her to hold her ground. If they didn’t make the rent this month, they would both be tossed out onto the street.
“Come with me,” the man grasped Hester’s upper arm dragging her toward the room he had just come from. “Children!” he bellowed as they passed through a thoroughly untidy parlor and into a hallway overlooking the stairs. “Children!” the man bellowed again. “I have someone for you to meet.”
The sound of running feet pounding down the stairs made Hester cringe as two children raced toward her.
“What is it Uncle Cecil!” A boy of about ten bellowed back as he hit the banister sliding to the bottom with at little leap thrown in.
“I have someone for you to meet,” the man smiled. “Jonas, I’d like you to meet your new governess Miss Hester,” he scowled at her for a moment realizing he didn’t know her last name.”
“What?” Hester gaped. “I’m