A Bride for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance

a tear trickled from the corner of one eye.  Comforted by her vow of vengeance, Mina fell into a deep sleep.
5
Mina rose early the next morning and established the routine that she would stick to for the next week.  She rose, dressed in her serviceable black gown, and descended to the kitchens in search of hot water and something to eat.  Her first glimpse of the large kitchen almost made her recoil, it was in such a squalid state.  Every surface was covered in a thick coating of grease and dirt.  The fire was lit in the coal fire range, though there was not a soul in sight.  Someone was up and about though, for on the table was the remains of a round loaf and a dish of butter which still had a knife set in it.
Peeking her head in the room next door she found a large scullery which had a copper set in the corner for heating water and a bread oven, both of which shared the same chimney.  Peering under the lid of the copper, she found the large pot was only half full of tepid water.  First she lit it with a spill from the kitchen range and then, casting about, found a large pail in the corner and remembering she had seen a pump in the courtyard the previous night, carried it outside to fill it with water.
As she waited for the copper to heat, she helped herself to a piece of bread and butter, reflecting she had not eaten since dinner the previous day and was ravenous.  A cupboard next to the sink revealed a jar of blackcurrant conserve which after sniffing she thought looked edible, so she added a scraping of that and had just perched on a wooden settle to eat it, when the sharp-faced barmaid bustled in, tying her apron strings.  She did a double take when she saw Mina and her face grew tight.
“Oh,” she said.  “You did make me start.  I didn’t expect to see you again.”  She sniffed and strode through to the scullery before returning rapidly.  “Who lit the copper?” she asked in surprised accents.
“I did,” Mina said, swallowing her mouthful of bread and jam.  “I’m heating water to wash.  Good morning,” she added briskly.  “My name is Mina Nye.  What may I ask, is yours?”
The maid flushed to the tips of her hair.  “It’s Edna,” she said after a moment’s heavy pause.  “Edna Lumm.”  She ran her hands down her apron distractedly.  “No offence, Mrs. Nye,” she said stiffly.  “But I got things to be getting on with.  I can’t stand around here passing the time of day like a lady o’ leisure.”
“That’s quite understandable, Edna,” Mina said pleasantly.  “I feel the same way.  May I ask if the kitchen is considered your province?”
Edna bristled.  “Hah! If only,” she snorted.  “My duties extend far and wide in this godforsaken hole!”  Her cheeks were two spots of bright scarlet now.  She was practically vibrating with indignation.
“Yes, I think I saw you serving in the taproom last night,” Mina agreed calmly, finishing off her meal and brushing the crumbs from her lap.
“My poor mother would turn in her grave if she knew I had to serve at bar!” Edna burst out.  “Ivy’s supposed to man the bar of an evening, but on fight nights… she’s got other duties,” she finished bitterly.  “I don’t like it, but needs must, and a girl’s got to earn an honest crust.”
“Yes indeed, it sounds like you must be spread very thinly,” Mina said with sympathy.
Edna’s mouth worked a moment before she could speak.  “I got pasties to make before lunchtime and then I got to make a start on the laundry.  It’s no good expecting that slattern Ivy to wake before noon!”
“I see.” Mina nodded.  “Well, if you’ve no objection, I can see there’s plenty of things I could be helping out with down here.”  She glanced around the filthy kitchen.  “I can’t cook, so the easiest thing for me to do would be a spot of cleaning.”
Edna stared at her.  “You’re going to clean?”  Mina nodded.  An expression of heavy skepticism passed over Edna’s face.  “I see,” she said, plainly thinking this some whim of the moment.  “Well, help yourself, I’m not about to stand in your way, I assure you!”
“Thank you,” Mina said mildly, standing up.  “Will you share the first lot of warm water with me?  Where do you usually wash?  In the scullery?”
This spirit of camaraderie had Edna blinking, but she fetched a china basin and the two of them went companionably into the scullery where they stepped into the alcove, unbuttoned their necks and cuffs, and rolled back their sleeves.  Edna shared a block of carbolic soap with her and some faded but clean washcloths.  They were performing their ablutions side by side when Mina heard the kitchen door slam and the heavy tread of boots across the floor.
Feeling Edna’s gaze on her, Mina forced herself not to react as she heard someone slamming cupboard doors and a filthy curse-word muttered before the rattle of knives in the drawer.  It had to be him.
“He’ll be getting himself bacon and eggs from the larder,” Edna muttered.  “And splashing hot fat all over the back of the range, no doubt,” she added bitterly.
Mina nodded, realizing the household seemed to shift for itself when it came to meals.  “I don’t suppose there’s any tea to be had about the place, is there?” she asked wistfully for she knew the drinking of tea to still be considered a luxury in many places.
“Tea, why to be sure,” said Edna. “We’ve a cupboard full of the stuff.  We’ll brew some, when he’s cleared out with his foul temper,” she added in a low voice.
A cupboard full?  Mina’s spirits rapidly rose.  “Wonderful,” she breathed, setting down her washcloth and picking up