Magic Below Stairs Read Online Free PDF Page A

be quite right, wearing so much fabric wrapped around his neck. It looked like someone had tried to cut off his head and then fasten it back on with bandages.
    That night, when Frederick unwound his cravat and readied the clean one he would put on next morning, he used the smoothing iron to duplicate the folds Fan had made. He did his best to copy her work, but next morning, somehow it looked different. The ends were a trifle more narrow, the edges a trifle more crisp.
    Frederick tied his cravat with care, and even though it was not quite a duplicate of the fashion Fan had shown him, it felt better around his neck and looked far neater. He could breathe and turn his head freely. When next he studied himself in the looking glass, he discovered that he looked as elegant as any footman, not bandaged at all.

    Frederick’s first glimpse of his employer came when he was scrubbing floors near the forbidden workroom. He was scraping at a stubborn spot when the door opened behind him and slammed shut.
    â€œConfound it! Kate, have you seen my sealing wax?”
    Frederick turned to look and froze in place so he wouldn’t be noticed. He knew without being told that he was looking at his employer. Who else would dare use the workroom?
    The wizard marched away, but even from behind Frederick could see the man was stocky, and much too short to be a stately butler or even a fashionable footman. He didn’t look a bit like a wizard. He was mumbling to himself wildly and running his hands through his hair, making it stand on end, as if he were some sort of a madman.
    As Frederick watched him go, the wizard called out again. “Kate!”
    From around the corner, a lady in a beautiful pink gown joined him. Her dark hair was twisted up in a complex knot at the back of her head, but the smudge of ink on her nose rather spoiled the elegant effect. She took the wizard’s arm as if joining him for a stroll. “Of course I haven’t, Thomas. I have my own, after all. Would you care to use some of mine?”
    â€œI don’t know. Is it red?” The pair of them turned the corner and Frederick went back to work. It was a great relief. Wizards were nothing like what he’d expected. His employer was just like anyone else, only rich.

    Nearly every day, Frederick learned a new skill as he went about his work. Under the watchful eyes of Mr. Kimball and of Mrs. Dutton the housekeeper, Frederick had learned how to dust. The very first thing to know about dusting turned out to be wash your hands .
    â€œUse plenty of soap when you scrub your hands,” Mrs. Dutton commanded. “I won’t have nice things made nasty by prints from greasy fingers. Clean and trim your fingernails while you are about it. You’re not a gardener, after all. Let the dirt go.”
    Mrs. Dutton ordered Frederick to start at the top and work downward, told him when to use the duster and when to employ the whisk broom, and set him to work.
    Frederick’s favorite part of his job was dusting and waxing and polishing the furniture. The wood carvings seemed almost grateful for the beeswax polish he rubbed in with fingertips and cloth. The beeswax was scented with lavender, and in the quiet of the drawing room, the clean smell of it filled Frederick with peace.
    Sometimes it was so quiet, all Frederick heard was the ticking of the tall clock in the corner, the one it was Mr. Kimball’s duty to wind.
    Sometimes it was so peaceful, Frederick felt he might be dreaming. Sometimes his ears buzzed a little, so that he almost thought he heard dry leaves rustling. There were no leaves to be found, of course, nor anything else in the room to explain the noise, but when Frederick heard that sound, he felt an odd sense of companionship, as if someone friendly was nearby, just out of sight. Sometimes, at his dreamiest, Frederick even thought he detected a low humming, as if there were bees about. Embroidered bees to go with the embroidered