She turned around and yelled, not caring that she sounded like a maniac. “Is anyone here? Help!”
And was met with silence.
Chapter Six
1919
Miss Helen will see you at nine o’clock, Miss Lilly.” Miss Winnie’s voice rang out across the staff dining room.
Lillian twisted around from her seat at the table where she’d been finishing up her oatmeal so that Miss Winnie could see her lips. “Where shall I present myself?” she asked.
“Her sitting room on the second floor. Take the front stairs. East side of the house, second door on the right.”
“Thank you.”
She had thirty minutes to spare, so she decided to explore the house more fully. The south wing, where the entrance off the porte-cochère was, included a ladies’ dressing room, a butler’s pantry, and a dining room with windows that looked out to the park. The living areas of the house extended off at a right angle: the Fragonard Room, where she’d had her interview with Miss Helen, the living hall, and then the library. The door at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar, and she stepped close to peer in.
“No!”
She whirled around to find a maid standing behind her, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You don’t want to go in there unannounced, I promise. You’ll have your fanny spanked right off.”
She had a wide face and a toothy grin, and Lillian couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, I was trying to get my bearings. Today is my first day.”
“Ah, the latest human sacrifice for Miss Helen, is that right?”
The idea unsettled Lillian, but then the maid laughed again. “Oh, your face! You are right terrified, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. My name is Bertha, I’m her lady’s maid, and have been for the past four years, so if you need any help you come to me. They put you in the room next to mine upstairs. I hope you couldn’t hear my snoring through the walls.”
Before Lillian could answer to the negative, Bertha took her arm and guided her up the stairs. “Let me take you around, show you the place. Back there, where you were about to go, is the art gallery and Mr. Frick’s study, where the master of the house can be found most hours. So keep out, all right? He’s a tetchy one. Tetchier than Miss Helen. Is that a word? Tetchier? Maybe, maybe not.”
She barreled on, seemingly unconcerned with the answer. “You already know the third floor. Bedrooms for the women staff are up there, along with the bathroom and a small break room. The south wing has a trunk room tucked into the southwest corner of the house, but be careful because the sloping eaves will leave you with a big bump on your head. And there’s also a linen room and the fur vault, which is kept locked.” She gave a wink. “I tried the door, that’s how I know.”
They made it to the landing of the second floor. “There are two elevators on the other side of the house. One is for servants and the other for the family. Along the south wing here is a breakfast room, a service pantry, and a small office for Mrs. Frick. Shhh, follow me. You have to see where she sleeps.” They both crept inside the most beautiful bedchamber Lillian had ever seen, every surface covered with silks of the most delicate rose and gray. If she slept in a room like that, she might never get out of bed. A portrait of a young girl hung above a narrow secretary desk. She looked to be around four or five and had the same reddish hair as Miss Helen, but instead of brash, bright eyes, the girl had a haunting sadness about her. The boudoir, on the other side of the foyer, was decorated with fanciful panels that reminded Lillian of those in the Fragonard Room.
Back in the hallway, she discovered she’d lost all sense of direction. “Is Miss Helen’s sitting room in here?” she asked, pointing to a door.
“No.” Bertha opened the door anyway. Inside was what had to be the master bedroom, finished in dark wood, which connected to a sitting room with a mahogany grand piano. “This is for Mr. Frick. Did you know he made his first million by the age of thirty? That means it’s too late for me. I’m thirty-four. Too bad, right?”
“What does he do?” Lillian knew it had to do with steel, but was unsure of the details. These were things she should know if she’d be working here.
“He made coke, which is used to make steel. He’s lauded here in New York as one of the richest men in America, but back in Pennsylvania, where I’m from, it’s a different story.”
Now Lillian was intrigued. “Why’s that?”