Page 13 of Failure to Match

“Mistress Sinclair would have had our heads if she knew, but he never did tell her. Loyal as can be, the Young Master. Once you’ve earned his trust there’s no getting rid of it, is there?”

“It’s worrying, is what it is. There are people who will take advantage of that, you know.”

“Takes one rotten apple to spoil the whole batch.”

“Though the Young Master isn’t very easy to trick, is he?”

“Well, he couldn’t be. Not with his upbringing.”

“You learn quickly when enough people disappoint you at that age.”

“Born with a diamond spoon in his mouth, the poor lad.”

“I don’t think that’s the expression either, Mabel.”

“Is it not?”

“It is not.”

“What’s it supposed to be, then?”

“Silver spoon. Not diamond.”

“Oh, well that doesn’t have the same impact, does it? Though I’m not quite sure where I was going with it anyway. I’ve been rambling a bit again, haven’t I, Molly?”

“We both have, I’m afraid.”

“Why didn’t you say something, dear?”

They looked up at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I blinked between them with my mouth parted.

I was at a loss for words.

I’d been so absorbed (and confused, impressed) by their seamless back-and-forth that I’d stopped paying attention to what turns we’d taken to get to the large bedroom we were now standing in. I had one hand still clutching the towel around my body, the other cradling a bunch of items they’d stuffed into it—more towels, fresh clothes, sandals, toiletries.

Mabel (if I’d caught on correctly) placed her hands on her plump hips and frowned at her sister. “Look at us, Molly. We haven’t even offered her a hot cuppa this whole time, have we? And she’s still soaked!”

“Do you fancy some tea, dear? We have a pot of oolong brewing. Well, it’s an oolong and pu’er mix. But Young Master Sinclair complains when we brew the pu’er by itself.”

“Claims it smells like a dirty barn.”

“Took us a while to get used to the stench ourselves, that’s for sure. But it’s mighty good for you, isn’t it?”

“And he doesn’t complain about much—never did.”

“So, when he does, we pay attention.”

“He also never drinks any of it. No matter how many times we try to explain the benefits, it always falls on daft ears.”

“That’s not the expression, Mabel.”

Oh my god, no. I couldn’t re-enter this loop.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said just as Mabel went to respond. “Could I maybe get some privacy while I change? Thank you for the clothes, by the way. This is all very kind.”

They beamed up at me at the same time, all dimples and rosy cheeks.

“Oh, you’re very welcome, dear.”

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