Jenny stood obediently in the small, dim attic room, listening to the man in front of her speak.
“Do you remember what I told you?” The man was named Tom. He was the son of the butler of Carlton House and a senior servant himself. Carlton House was the London residence of the Prince of Wales, the current first in line to the English throne, and it was not far from St. James’s Palace.
“I heard you.” Jenny, who had just turned five that day, obediently nodded to show that she understood.
It was the morning of January 7, 1801. That evening would be the fifth-birthday banquet for Prince George of Wales, the Prince of Wales’s only legitimate child. Although the two had been born on the exact same day, there was obviously a world of difference between their circumstances.
It wasn’t that Jenny wanted to replace him. It was just that—sigh—why had a perfectly ordinary modern adult like her been reborn in this era as the daughter of a maid whose father was unknown? That was an even worse starting point than being an illegitimate daughter with a questionable reputation!
In 1795, in order to repay debts amounting to as much as £630,000, the Prince of Wales had agreed to marry his cousin, Caroline of Brunswick. Although he received an annual allowance of £125,000 from Parliament after the marriage, it still failed to solve his financial problems, while new bills continued to pile up.
Yet despite all this, whenever the social season arrived, Carlton House was still brilliantly illuminated night after night, becoming one of the liveliest places in London.
Jenny’s mother had come to Carlton House shortly before the Prince of Wales’s wedding through the Countess of Jersey, who was then the Prince’s new mistress. Although the countess was now nearly fifty, she still firmly controlled the balls and banquets held at Carlton House.
As for the actual Princess of Wales, she had separated from the Prince just two months after giving birth to the heir and had left the residence altogether the following year.
She had never returned in all these years.
“If you heard me, then change into the new dress and make sure you perform well tonight.”
The man placed the dress on the small bed and waited to see the result. If one of the guests arriving that evening hadn’t been particularly fond of little girls, he would never have thought of little Jenny!
He had watched her grow over the past few years, watched her silky golden hair grow long, watched her reveal a sweet smile as though it had been dipped in honey. Tom Baker had almost come to regard the child as his own daughter!
But she wasn’t! He didn’t have those beautiful green eyes, and neither did anyone in the Baker family.
Fortunately, the little girl wasn’t his biological daughter. Otherwise, he might have hesitated over whether to send her over that evening. As things stood, there was nothing to hesitate about. Since she had inherited a beautiful face like her mother’s, it was better to put it to use early. If she became accustomed to the advantages brought by money and power at such a young age, with some cultivation she could become a useful social butterfly in the future.
“Don’t know how to put it on? I’ll get someone to help you.”
After waiting for a while without seeing little Jenny move, the man came to his own conclusion.
“That’s understandable. This dress is worth four pounds. You’ve probably never seen anything like it before. Don’t worry. As long as you do well tonight, you’ll be able to wear dresses like this often in the future.”
The man smiled as he walked out, not particularly worried that the pounds he had spent would fail to earn their return. This was London, after all, and this was Carlton House, the residence of the Prince of Wales! As long as he was here, money would never be a problem.
Once he had left, Jenny remained standing where she was.
She knew that a maid would soon come in to help her. It might be her mother, or it might be another maid, but it didn’t matter.
She had lived here for five years. Although she had never been to the most luxurious parts of the residence, the servants were remarkably well informed. The adults always spoke in whispers when discussing private matters, carefully keeping their conversations away from prying ears, but who would pay attention to a servant’s child?
Jenny knew what happened at those balls and banquets. She even knew what the familiar maids did after dressing themselves up beautifully and going there.
After all, that was how she had come into this world. How could she not know?
As for what the butler’s son had just said about Prince George needing a new companion, she didn’t believe it at all.
Who was he? He was the only legitimate grandchild of George III and, more importantly, the sole heir to the future George IV! With such a status, his companions could only be children from noble families. How could someone like her, the daughter of a servant whose father was unknown, possibly qualify?
Being sent there as a little maidservant was much more believable.
Still, even becoming a little maidservant would be better than being confined to the attic for most of her time.
Jenny didn’t understand why history had changed so much. George IV had historically had a daughter, yet now he had a son. Perhaps this was a parallel world. Surely the child hadn’t simply been switched.
While thinking about what would happen that evening, someone entered the room.
It was her mother, Beth.
“Darling, I’ll help you.”
Beth, who was in her twenties, also had golden-blond hair, although hers was a little darker.
“Uncle Tommy worked hard to get this opportunity for you. Don’t waste it.”
Her daughter had come into the world unexpectedly, but as the child gradually grew, Beth became very satisfied with the gift heaven had given her.
Jenny was clever. She would know what to do, just as she always did.
“Mother, will you leave Carlton House? Like the others?”
Her shabby old clothes were taken off, and the new dress was slipped over her.
“Why would I leave? To become a man’s mistress? No. Jenny, a mistress will eventually be discarded when she grows older. I’d be better off staying here as a maid. It was only because I was at Carlton House that I had the means to give birth to you and raise you without worrying about food, clothing, or other necessities.”
Only foolish girls followed men away, after which no one heard from them again.
“Jenny, don’t believe what men say. Their money isn’t ours, and their property certainly won’t become ours. We’re doing fine like this, with food and clothing. Don’t think too much about anything else. Your job is simply to make the little prince like you—like you enough that he wants to keep you by his side.”
Being everyone’s maid and being one person’s personal maid were two entirely different things. If Jenny could take advantage of her young age to get close to the little prince, it might be a very good opportunity for her.
Of course, even if she failed, nothing terrible would happen. She would simply return to the way things were.
“Mommy’s Jenny is so pretty. His Highness the Prince will definitely like you.”
If she weren’t a maid, her Jenny should have had a better life. At the very least, she could have had a respectable marriage and a happy family someday.
“Mommy is pretty too.”
Pretty enough that she would certainly appear at the banquet that night.
Prince George’s fifth-birthday banquet would begin after eight in the evening. However, Mother said that the little prince wasn’t in very good health, so he could only appear briefly at the beginning of the banquet. After that, it would be time for the adults.
“Uncle Tommy has gone to take care of some things. Mommy will take you over first.”
As soon as it grew dark, Jenny followed her mother in her new dress through a corridor she had never walked before, one that was not part of the servants’ passageways.
As they walked, the candles gradually came to life. Before long, the place was almost as bright as it had been during the day.
Perhaps the light was simply too bright, because Jenny barely had time to take in her surroundings. She hurried along behind her mother, passing through one doorway after another and crossing one grand, high-ceilinged hall after another.
“Beth, the banquet hasn’t even started yet. Why have you brought little Jenny over here?”
“Oh, Beth! I haven’t seen you for several days. Are you free later?”
“Wow, is this little Jenny? Do you want some dessert? Go over there and have some. Uncle has something to discuss with your mother.”
As they continued walking, more and more people greeted her mother, until someone finally interrupted their progress.
Jenny was carried off to one side, and when she turned around, her mother had already disappeared with someone.
She didn’t recognize the man from before. Judging by his clothes, he appeared to be a guard. From the way he spoke, he seemed quite familiar with her mother, so this was probably not the first time.
In fact, after seeing such things so often, a person could become numb to them.
At Carlton House, people with status and power frequently exploited their positions in their relationships with young women, while some women willingly sought the protection and advantages that came with such arrangements. This was also one reason the female attendants and maids at Carlton House seemed to have new faces every year: some would leave after becoming involved with wealthy or powerful men, and new women would take their places.
Women in this era had very few employment opportunities. Ordinary women who needed to support themselves or their families often had little choice but to enter various forms of transactional relationships. Compared with life outside, Carlton House at least provided its servants with basic food, clothing, and shelter.
Jenny quietly stood in a corner, waiting for her mother to return, a small piece of soft pastry in her hand.
She didn’t eat it. She wasn’t interested.
“Are you lost? Where’s your maid?”
A sudden voice interrupted Jenny’s thoughts.
The speaker was a noble boy of around ten.
“Come on. Let’s go to His Highness the Prince first.”
The Marquess of Hartington assumed that she was the daughter of some noble family who was making her first appearance in society.
Strictly speaking, a girl her age was far too young to be attending social occasions. But Prince George was around the same age. Even if the future Prince George were eventually to marry a princess from outside England, that would still be several years away. In the meantime, if anything happened between them, it would be enough for certain families to bring their young and beautiful daughters into society.
Should she go or not?
In the end, Jenny followed the young nobleman.
She didn’t need to worry about her mother’s safety. Since her ultimate goal was to remain by the little prince’s side, going earlier or later made little difference.
“If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’ve gone to see His Highness the Prince.”
Before leaving, she passed the message to a servant standing nearby.
Within minutes, the two of them had left the excessively bright area and entered a comparatively quiet section, although this place was also lit with candles everywhere.
Angels were painted all over the walls, and little angel ornaments could be seen everywhere.
“Marquess of Hartington, William Cavendish.”
The moment Jenny heard the surname Cavendish, she became a little more alert.
Oh, she knew this person.
She knew even more about what had happened in his family’s ducal residence in Devonshire.
After the servants announced their arrival, the door opened.
Once the servants moved aside and nothing obstructed her view, Jenny finally saw the little prince.
His blond hair lay limply against his thin face. His dark eyes lacked the clear innocence that a five-year-old child should have. Instead, they were filled with gloom.
“Who is this again?!”
His sharp voice rang out, and only then did Jenny realize that he was asking about her.
“Greetings, Your Highness. I am Jenny.”
She first performed a proper curtsy.
“Uncle Tom said that Your Highness might need a maidservant, so he arranged for me to come and try. Oh, and Uncle Tom’s father is Butler Baker.”
Since that was what she had been told to say, she wasn’t lying.
“A maidservant?”
Before the little master of the household could react, the Marquess of Hartington, who had brought her here, began questioning his own judgment.
Had he really mistaken a servant’s daughter for a nobleman’s daughter?
“A maidservant! You? What can you do?!”
Prince George looked Jenny over again.
She didn’t look like a maidservant at all.
Could she even dress herself?
She looked like an angel, and even her voice was soft. Could someone like her really do the work of a maid?
“Your Highness, I can keep accounts and make money.”
She certainly couldn’t compete with the other servants in the tasks they were good at, so she would have to approach the problem from another angle.
As she spoke, Jenny pulled a small account book from the side pocket of her dress.
“Look. This is the account book I’ve kept for the past year or so, recording the money I’ve earned.”
It wasn’t much, but her savings added up to 282 pence—more than one pound!
George had never intended to look at it. However, the Marquess of Hartington, relying on his height, caught sight of the account book and revealed a strange, doubtful expression.
George decided that he might as well take a look too.
“Give it to me!”
What exactly was written in it that had caused even the heir to a ducal family to change his expression?
Helping Sister Tana keep her accounts for one month — earned 1 penny.
Washing 100 dishes for the kitchen — earned 1 penny.
Helping Uncle Tom calculate accounts for three days — earned 10 pence.
Buying pain medicine for Mother — spent 12 pence.
Discovering an error in Butler Baker’s bill that would have resulted in nearly £9 in excess expenditure — reward: 10 pence.
Finding a pearl earring and turning it in — reward: 3 pence.
…