Free Degrees of Hope by Catherine Winchester

of washing up grow bigger and bigger. He scrubbed, peeled, washed, sliced, diced, rinsed and did anything else that was required of him.
    Martha kept checking in to make sure he wasn't causing the servants any problems and each time he saw her, he continued with a renewed vigour, unwilling to lose this bet as a matter of principle.
    Finally he was free to get back to the washing up, which he hated but got stuck into. Some of the dirt seemed to have been baked on over years, but he had seen most of these dishes earlier, and so he knew that they had been perfectly clean then. He just didn't understand how they got so dirty so quickly.
    Once the family's dinner was served, the kitchen maid took pity on him and helped him to wash up, just as she would if there was a dinner party and the workload was greater than usual.
    When that was done, he once again had to clean the kitchen, pantry and hallway floors. His arms screamed in pain as he scrubbed at the floors, not to mention that his knees didn't much like being pressed into the cold, hard tiles.
    As he got up for the third time to change the water in his bucket, he couldn't help but sit down on the stool in the washhouse for a few minutes. He had never been so tired in his whole life and he just needed a small break.
    The servants noticed that he had gone, but it was not until Martha came down at nine thirty, when he should finish for the day to eat with the servants, that anyone bothered to look for him. She tried to rouse him from his slumber but he was so tired that he seemed to be in some kind of stupor.
    She got the footman to help her, and together they hauled him up to the guest quarters.
    His clothes were filthy and he needed a good wash, but there was little that they could do about that now. Martha left the footman to remove as much clothing as he could, before leaving James to sleep.
    Earlier in the day, Martha had sent a note to Honoria, informing her that her brother would be staying overnight and requesting a change of clothes, which was duly sent back, so she knew that they would not be worrying about him. She returned to the parlour, where the family was gathered.
    “Is everything all right?” Lucien asked.
    “Oh yes. I found him in the washhouse, out like a light! Abrahams helped me put him to bed.”
    Hope and the other children grinned at their mother's success, but Martha didn't feel as clever as they thought her to be. The life of a scullery maid was hard and although she had done her best to ease the duties of all the servants here since she had become mistress, after today it was clear that they still worked much harder than was fair.
    Martha had spoken to Mrs Lassiter about it that afternoon as they decided on the next week's menus, but Mrs Lassiter had assured Martha that they had ample staff. Martha had taken her at her word, for they had four more staff than a house of this size would normally employ, and they were much less demanding of their staff than many masters. Now however, Martha wasn't so certain that they couldn't employ a few more people.
    Lucien understood that this had been about teaching James a lesson, rather than about winning and he could understand that she took no pleasure in seeing a good man worked to exhaustion. As she sat down, he took her hand and squeezed, offering her a comforting smile.
    Since Martha had also risen much earlier than usual, Lucien suggested an early night for them and by ten thirty, the family was all tucked up in bed as well.

Chapter Eight
    When James awoke the next morning, his first thought was that he must have been drinking the night before, since every muscle he had seemed to scream in protest as he tried to move. When he opened his eyes however, he had no headache, so he reasoned that it must be something else causing him such pain.
    He didn't recognise his bedroom, so it took him a while to remember what had happened the day before and why he was here.
    He groaned when he did remember, but he had