Page 18 of Claiming the Tower
“Mistress Marley?” Now Hereswith was worried. Why on earth was Bess here? “I’ll come, shall I? Where is she?”
“Downstairs, mistress. I didn’t like to leave her alone, but I didn’t like to bring her up, either, please.” Nellie shifted from foot to foot, and Hereswith set her book aside and stood up.
“You needn’t worry she’ll behave badly. Papa, I’m sure something’s the matter. Let me go see about it. No need to bother yourself.” Papa nodded once. They could both keep to the unstated acknowledgement that he wasn’t fit to go downstairs and back up by himself, not with his valet away until later tonight. Hereswith smoothed out her skirts, and nodded, following Nellie down.
Bess was standing in the front hall, wearing exactly what she had been an hour or so earlier, when they’d parted at the portal. No shawl, no cape, even though the evening had chilled a little. The rest of her, though, looked awful and disturbingly different. She was pale, almost as if her skin might be clammy, and she was staring at the floor.
“Goodness, Bess. What’s the matter? Come in, please. Nellie, are you up to putting together a tea tray? Tea, some broth, if we have it, and bread and butter or a sandwich, if there're the fixings for that.” Hereswith kept her voice clear, direct. “Can you manage the stairs, Bess? You’ll be warmer upstairs in my sitting room, but it’s two flights.”
Bess shrugged a little. “I didn’t—” She looked up, as if she were about to plead her case and couldn’t, her voice cracking and failing.
“It is no bother to sit and sort out what you need. And we can certainly feed you and give you tea. Come along. Nellie, if you’d bring the tray up to my sitting room when it’s ready, thank you.”
Rather to Hereswith’s relief, Bess could climb first the stairs up to the first floor, then to the second, without needing too much more help than a hand at her back or a bit of guidance on which direction to go. But once they were in Hereswith’s sitting room, Bess collapsed onto the sofa, as much as her corset permitted.
There was no fire lit. It was the middle of June, after all. Hereswith ducked into her bedroom and the cedar storage, pulling out a light wool blanket and adding a warming charm before she came back. “Here, you look like you’re shivering. Can you tell me what happened?”
Bess looked up at her, blinking, then tugged the blanket around her shoulders, pilling the extra into her lap. Hereswith considered, then settled beside her on the sofa, reaching for one of her hands and cupping it in both of hers. That seemed a good idea both for the kindness and connection of it. And because it gave her a chance to feel how Bess’s skin was too cool to the touch, even through the cotton glove.
“Something shocking, yes?” The thing about diplomacy was that the actual daily work was rarely a shock, so much of it was choreographed well in advance. But the news certainly produced shocks that reverberated, like the explosion of cannon balls, shaking everything loose. Everyone in her department knew what to do in those moments, even if they rarely discussed it. Tea, warmth, a bit of connection with someone trusted, and a moment of quiet if a moment was all you could get.
Hesitantly, Bess nodded. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Hereswith pursed her lips. “Aspasia Judson turned you out?” There was absolutely no title attached to that. The woman did not deserve one. Bess nodded, a jerky little movement. “Well, that’s foolish of her. May she live to regret it every day of the rest of her life.” There was more weight of magic behind it than Hereswith usually permitted herself. “And you— oh, of course. Did she let you bring anything?”
“Sent along. A day or three. Probably. To the Field.” Bess’s voice was thin, decidedly fragile.
“We’ll see about speeding that a bit tomorrow. One of the junior solicitors at the firm Papa uses will be in the office for such needs, I’m sure.” Hereswith could make that happen in her sleep, honestly. “You had an employment contract with her? No, never mind, that can wait.” She saw the way Bess flinched a little. “Food, tea, a warm bath— I can run that for you myself. No need to keep Nellie busy. I can lend you a nightgown and a wrap, certainly. No drinking chocolate on hand, I’m afraid.”
“Tea is—” Bess shivered again. “I. Wait. You’ve got ahead of me.”
Hereswith had not explained herself, no. She took a breath and said it as plainly as she could. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you need. No, don’t fuss, I’m certain you won’t presume. It’s a large house. In a minute, when the tea’s here, I’ll let Papa know, and leave a note for the housekeeper. And ask Nellie to see to airing out one of the other bedrooms up here for you. Then you can have a bath, and borrow a book— books, if you want— and rest. In the morning, we can figure out the next steps. I don’t need to be at the Ministry.” She had not planned to take extensive time off over the holidays, and she had obligations in London on Saturday evening, probably Sunday morning as well, for church. But that was the day after tomorrow. One day at a time.
“You can’t just, I mean. I turned up with no warning.” Bess was, in fact, trying to argue. It at least suggested she was not as badly off as Hereswith had been starting to fear.
“What’s the good of being the one in charge of the house if I can’t have a friend— who, I am sure, will not be at all difficult— to stay? And by difficult here, mostly we mean interrupting Papa unduly or being a problem with the staff. You aren’t likely to do either, are you?”
Now, finally, Hereswith got a faint smile. “I, no. Probably not. Should I introduce myself to your father?”
Hereswith considered that. If Bess were only staying for the night, probably not. If it were longer, though, better to do it now. “Yes. Tea first. I don’t like the way you look, yet. How nasty of her. I’m sure there wasn’t an actual reason.”
“She came back early, and I wasn’t there. She said I was late, but I wasn’t. I’m sure I wasn’t. I heard the clock chime.” Then Bess put her head up. “What time is it?”
Hereswith glanced at the clock. “Coming up on half-eight. When did you leave there?”
“I thought before half-seven. Maybe she was shouting longer than I counted?” Bess’s gaze dropped. “Or— I was standing out by the portal for a while. I could go to the Field.”
“No. First, you’re here now. No need to go out. Second, they’re probably full up, and while they’d sort out a cot or something in extremis, that’s silly.” Hereswith considered the evidence of her eyes and ears and magic. “You might have been standing there for a bit. You still seem a bit in shock. But we can sort that out. And as I have said, do I need to repeat it further? You are not a bother here. We’ve plenty of space, and the staff will be glad to have someone else to cook for. Until you figure out what the next thing is.”
“She won’t give me a good character.” Bess buried her face in her free hand. “I can scarcely get another decent position.”
“I would argue with your word choice there, dear.” Hereswith kept her voice even, much as she’d like to utterly demolish Aspasia Judson for this. She might yet. The option was paused, not removed, after all. “Another implies that Aspasia Judson was a decent employer. I don’t know anyone off-hand, but I am clear you have skills. You know people who can vouch for you, including me, and we will sort something out. Or at least, presuming you permit me to help.”
Bess swallowed, visibly. “I don’t really have any choice.” Then she glanced up. “Are you managing me?”
“Oh, yes. Do you mind?” Hereswith considered, then went on with the best honesty she could muster. “I plan to continue managing you tonight, but we can discuss tomorrow when it’s tomorrow.”
That got a small snort, and then one of Bess’s smiles, faint but more present. “All right. I’m sure I haven’t either the wits or the strength to argue with you.”
