Page 24 of Claiming the Tower
“Something to drink before we go off to bed?” Hereswith stopped in the hall, between the door to her rooms and the door leading to Bess’s.
“If you like. And if it won’t put anyone out, it’s so late!” Bess was undoing her bonnet. “Do you want to wash up first?”
“You, please. I’ll go see if the light is on under Papa’s door. There’s a decanter in the library, and there should be something light to snack on.” Hereswith went off to the other end of the hall, but there was no light on, so she came back. By then, Bess had finished in the bath, and Hereswith washed her hands and face thoroughly, then took a cloth and a charm to clean up her forearms and behind her ears.
Ten minutes later, she’d undressed, leaving the gown for Mary to deal with in the morning, and put on a nightgown and her lightest cotton wrap. She still felt a trifle overheated, somehow. There had been rumblings of thunder, but no actual rain, which was good for the Faire on the whole. By the time Hereswith reappeared, Bess had brought the tea cart into the sitting room and set food out. There were glasses of sherry to go with the simple bread and butter and cheese.
Bess looked rather lovely, actually. Not that she’d got sun. They’d both been careful of their bonnets. But she had roses in her cheeks that hadn’t been there when she arrived. Her auburn hair was in a braid, wisps coming out by her ears, and she had her own brown wrap on. The brown didn’t flatter her, exactly. Bess definitely looked better with more colour in her clothing. But in this case, it made her look a little like a tinted sepia print. Hereswith claimed her own food and glass and settled on the other end of the sofa. “Today was delightful, and all the better for your company. It’s been a long time since I could enjoy the Faire with a friend.”
“I’m glad.” That was sincere enough. Hereswith was certain of that. But Bess went quiet then, rather than making more of a comment.
Hereswith let it be for a minute or two, enough time for both of them to eat and drink, before she said, “You’re thinking about something.”
“A number of things.” Bess picked up her sherry glass, set it down again, and stared off toward the dark window across from her. Then she turned back to look at Hereswith, her face set. “Today was wonderful. I haven’t had a day that entirely good in, in many years. A solid afternoon and evening, all pleasant. Good company, intelligent, well-read, thoughtful company. Mutual enjoyment, both of us going to things we might not have chosen on our own, but that were far better with someone else.”
“I appreciated your patience with the lecture. And the concert was delightful. They were every bit as good as you said they should be. We will have to see about tickets to future performances, yes?” Hereswith settled back against the sofa.
“That is—” Bess’s voice caught. “That is what I’m thinking about. This, all of this. It can’t last. It’s not,” She swallowed. “It isn’t ethical for it to last. Not just proper, I know you’ll argue with proper.”
“Ethical?” Hereswith tilted her head. She suspected what was coming. Bess had been up front about her interest, earlier, after all. That wasn’t the sort of thing Hereswith would forget.
“You are my employer. It is wrong for me to have certain thoughts about my employer. And it is certainly not sensible. I— there is nowhere else I can go right now, except The Field. If?—”
Hereswith let out a soft “Ah.” She didn’t rush. This was delicate, and it wasn’t as if Bess didn’t have a good point. “You feel more strongly about me— in favour of me, on a personal level— than you did.”
“How could I not?” Now Bess sounded honestly upset. “You are kind, you are thoughtful. You see to needs before I’ve even realised I had them, several times. You are not selfish or greedy or short-sighted. You are be—” Something in that list brought her up short. “What is your long-term aim, here? With me. You have one, don’t you?”
“Several possible ones, at the moment.” Hereswith had only rarely tried to explain how she saw the world. Marcus understood it. Papa understood most of it. Though some of it made him wave a hand at her and tell her to let him go back to his more comprehensible Anglo-Saxons. Her brothers ignored it. “That’s how I look ahead. Different roads, going to a given destination. Or perhaps a region. It depends on the problem at hand.”
“And in this case?” Bess leaned back a little, not quite so urgent.
“In this case, all roads lead to Rome, as the saying goes. This Rome is a world, a time when you feel you have security and happiness. I cannot create happiness for you out of nothing, like an illusionist creates beauty. But I can, perhaps, help you get to a place where happiness might grow and have roots and sturdy branches. Where you could lean on it.”
“And that’s something you want for me. Enough to— enough to do what? How are you thinking of doing that?”
“Nothing that would force you, of course. That would not lead to happiness.” Hereswith held her hands out so she could count. “Having your own money, sufficient for your needs, that is one desire. That gives you more choices, whatever else happens. A steady means of employment that pays decently, and that suits your skills and competence. Papa is a reasonable stepping stone, but I suspect you will be bored with it, eventually. He will not provide proper scope.”
Bess just arched an eyebrow. “Go on about that.”
“You are a clever woman who can hold dozens of things in your head at once. Many of the same skills I’ve developed, for hostessing, for keeping track of dozens of people and their preferences and more. Not just the need, but the want, what will make them comfortable and at ease and better able to do what they choose with their lives. A foundation. You might find a position at one of the clubs, or one of the schools, as a chatelaine, something of the kind.”
Bess snorted. “I don’t have the background for that. Not that would convince any of them to hire me. You need experience with the lower jobs in those places, to get considered for that.”
“Perhaps. There might be ways around it. There are sometimes positions that come up for a shorter span of time. A young woman coming out, whose family needs someone to manage the Trellech townhouse and social diaries without offending the housekeeper, for example. A widower, looking to marry again, who needs someone to manage his household until he does. You could step from that to something else, given a little time.”
This time, Bess didn’t argue, and Hereswith considered that a signal point of progress. “Anyway. I do not expect you will want to stay as Papa’s companion for years. The month we’ve agreed to, certainly. Three or six months, possibly, to give you time to look for what you wish next.” She lifted her eyes now, meeting Bess. “So if your concern is that I am your employer, and you have stronger feelings, one answer is to wait until I no longer employ you.”
“That answer only,“ Bess looked at her, and then blinked. “If I am the only one with feelings, it doesn’t matter, really.”
“It matters in terms of your happiness, but I agree, it is not the same sort of ethical problem.” Hereswith swallowed. “I still don’t know exactly what I feel. It is not as if I have a wide prior experience to compare to. But I enjoy being with you, having you right there, in a way I have not felt with most anyone else. I am comfortable with Marcus the same way, most of the time.” He had been a trifle annoying on Saturday, and she still needed to talk that out with him. “But most of the time, I am done with my work, or some event, and I want to be on my own. Yet, in those moments, I want to be with you. Even if we’re just sitting in the same room, reading or sewing, or whatever else. The company of it.”
“And you don’t know if that extends beyond company.” Bess coughed. “I mean, truly don’t know?”
“I have also not spent a tremendous amount of time thoroughly considering what two women might do in intimacy. My own pleasure, yes. But how that might go with someone else, male or female, no. Do you know if there are books or some such that might give an idea?” Hereswith had been curious about that question for some days now. At least in an intellectual sense. But it was scarcely the sort of thing she could ask about in a bookshop.
“Mostly, I think women sort it out themselves.” Bess was flushing now, and that made her rather lovely indeed. “There are some books. You need to know where to find them. I might—” She looked down. “If you wanted me to buy a title or two, I could do so when I was in Trellech next.”
“Please do. The prices are like other books? On the average, I mean?” Bess nodded once, a little jerky, and Hereswith went on, “I’ll give you the coin for it, bring me back whatever change. No need for that to come out of your purse.”
