Page 8 of The Demon's Discovery
I clamped my lips shut and waited, all too familiar with the lecture I was receiving. Nothing much had changed since I was a child in that regard, either. Lara’s claims were lofty at best. They’d kept me housed in a room with discarded furniture and little else in an abandoned wing of the manor. Even the walls and floor were bare and had been for decades. It was hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and if not for Bea and Caroline, luxuries like soap, towels, and bedding would have been virtually nonexistent. They fed me only as an afterthought, and I was provided cheap, often unviable chemistry supplies in lieu of any pay, despite working every single day of the week. Thespecialtreatment I got as an employee was anything but. In many ways, it was worse than if I were simply part of the hired staff.
“Lucky for you,” Henrik continued, “Mr. Feland was a gracious guest and curious about your unusual interests. He would have been a perfect suitor for Beatrice, but your lateness was an unrecoverable distraction. As for the job with the Walkers…” His lips pressed together, and he shook his head. Henrik’s rage had been replaced with a heavy disappointment.
“You’ll be docked for the cost of the glasses, of course,” Lara snipped. “Needless to say, they won’t be taking you on.”
My stomach twisted, and threads of guilt I knew I shouldn’t feel stole the joy I’d felt while under the unabashed scrutiny of Vassago’s eye.
I put on my most contrite expression, found a gap in the conversation suitable to defend myself, and said, “I’m sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean to be late. What Va—Mr. Feland said was the truth. We ran into one another in the hall and his wine spilled all over me, I had to go upstairs to change. If not for that, I might have been on time.” I’d have needed to change my clothes regardless, but they would never have known that. Never mind that us running into each other had been a distraction all of its own. “I appreciate that you’ve kept me on all these years, especially after my failed attempts at finding employment elsewhere. I know what an imposition it has been to allow others into your home when the result could be them taking a member of your staff for themselves.” Contrition, genuine or otherwise, was never ill-received.
“As you should. Giving grace to help who are clumsy and need constant rest is unusual at best. But we do. We have. And we allow you to follow your scientific pursuits, as well.”
“I know,” I capitulated, old guilt sinking its claws in again. “I am grateful, truly.”
Henrik regarded me carefully for several long seconds, his nearly black eyes searching mine. I held my breath, willing himto believe me as Lara stabbed her spoon into the soft egg, exasperated with the whole thing.
I straightened my back, hands nervously folded together on the tabletop in front of me. They loved to accuse me of being lazy. Of misunderstanding things I said. Whatever suited the situation and made me the one at fault. If I’d learned nothing else, I knew when to keep my mouth shut. The whole truth mattered very little to them, particularly when it came to me.
Henrik stood, ambling over near the fireplace. “Your invitation to the Collegium d’Arcan was for Monday afternoon, correct?”
“Yes.” Excitement fizzed in my chest.
“If nothing else, he’ll be able to see firsthand your shortcomings, and then we can get back to business as usual around here.” His eyes narrowed. In this case, best efforts equated to forced learning, but sure. “Your behavior will be exemplary?”
“Yes sir.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “You’re excused.”
“There are several gowns on the settee in the foyer,” Lara quickly added. “Take them to Beatrice,” she ordered.
I pushed my chair back, nearly tipping it over in my enthusiasm to escape. “Yes ma’am. Pardon me,” I muttered, rushing from the room. After collecting the massive pile of dresses Lara had mentioned, I carefully headed upstairs, turning down the first hall to find Bea.
How she’d gotten out of having breakfast with the family was a mystery, but I could only assume she was prepared for me to be in trouble and was sparing herself the discomfort of sitting through yet another meal where that was the main attraction.
“Bea? You in there?” I asked, rapping on her closed bedroom door.
“Of course I am,” she called back, and I took that as my invitation. She smiled as I waddled inside. “I see you survived unscathed.”
“Your mother was well prepared to blister me with her tongue, but I managed to get off light.” I dumped the pile of dresses on her bed. “I blew the trial with Mariam, though, so it seems I’m not supposed to leave this manor.”
“I’m sorry, Greta. I know you’d prefer to be self-sufficient. Perhaps something else will come through.” She shook her head, golden curls bouncing as she did so.
I sat on the edge of her bed as she pulled the gowns from their heavy bags, sorting them into several piles on the floor. “What are all these for?”
“Mother is trying to find me something I can wear for the ball.”
“Ball?” I asked, feeling even more out of my depth than usual. My shirt was obviously threadbare in contrast to the gowns’ delicate satins and silks.
Bea sighed. “Yes. For my announcement.”
“Oh.” I scrunched up my nose, sharing her distaste for what was to come. “I thought they’d decided to put that off until winter?”
“Several of the more desirable suitors would prefer a summer event. Mother informed me this morning. It’s why I had no appetite for breakfast.” She grimaced again.
“I’m sorry, Bea.”
She shrugged. “It’s alright. I knew it was coming.”
“You should have as much time as you need,” I argued, knowing that it was only by luck and being found wholly deficient at most things that I’d made it to thirty without any such designs being put upon me. “Also, if Mr. Feland was supposed to be?—”
