Page 22 of Claiming the Tower
“There. It serves everyone directly involved well.” That included Hereswith. “What is the gossip, please?”
There was a long silence until Papa said, “Do share it.” His voice was not sharp, but that was an order, not a request.
“That there was something scandalous going on.” Wulfred spoke a little quickly. “Or theft. Now you say it, it was not terribly clear, just that there was something the matter with the woman. If you must have someone, Father, surely we could talk to an agency.”
“Last time I suggested that, you refused, Wulfred,” Hereswith said, a bit more curtly than she meant to. To soften it, she added, “And Papa did not like the idea, of course, so we didn’t continue.”
“Too many women flitter around, all fuss and bother,” Papa said, agreeably enough, which meant Wulfred had somewhat less space to argue. “This one is worth a trial. As your sister said, even if Bess does not suit long-term, we might learn more about who would in the future, what is most helpful or pleasant for me.”
That put an end to her brothers arguing, at least. Hereswith gave them a minute, then turned the conversation to something more neutral. She asked how Wulfred’s eldest was getting along with his work, and what sort of books she might reasonably hunt out as gifts in the near future. From there, she asked what they’d seen at the Faire, without mentioning she and Bess were planning their own outing.
Once Oswig and Wulfred had made their farewells, Papa shook his head. “Ask Hargrave if he’d come in, please. I shall go to bed rather than sit up and read.”
“Or rather, you will go to bed and read,” Hereswith said, agreeably. “Good night, Papa. I’m out tomorrow, and Bess and I are going to the Faire on Tuesday.”
“I will manage without you, somehow. And I meant what I said, my dear. She is good company. No reason she shouldn’t be here for a month or more, depending on how things go.” He turned his cheek up, and Hereswith stood, coming round to kiss him.
Once she was back upstairs, she knocked on the sitting room, waiting for Bess’s voice before she came in. Bess had been reading on the sofa, her feet tucked up under her, by the way the blanket was. She blinked. “You really needn’t knock. It’s your rooms.”
“Either neither of us knock or we both do,” Hereswith countered. “You persist in knocking, so until you stop, I will echo.”
Bess shook her head. “You are stubborn. These are your rooms, you should not need to knock at them. Your own place, whatever the rest of the house is.” She took a breath, and Hereswith expected her to ask about supper, but then Bess said nothing else.
Hereswith considered, then said, “Let me go change, back in a couple of minutes.” She disappeared into the bedroom. She’d dressed just for family tonight, so she could get out of the wrap and petticoats and corset herself easily enough. When she came out, Bess was sitting upright again, her feet in slippers. Her own slippers, not borrowed, since Bess’s own things were in the bedroom down the hall now.
Bess asked, before Hereswith could press a little, “Your brothers?”
“There’s gossip. About you, from Madam Judson. That you must have had a reason for being turned out. Stealing or some scandal or something. I pointed out that you’d made the oaths under truth magic, and it was all properly recorded.” That had been a fair bit of fuss, but it was easier done quickly, and had the advantage of also giving more weight to the solicitor’s negotiations on Bess’s behalf.
“I— I ought to repay you for that. For their services.”
Hereswith shrugged. “It is— all right, it is not exactly good for solicitors to have that sort of work. But they were glad to be useful. We were glad to put their time at your disposal. Do you feel— is the money a problem?”
Bess let out a huff. “Not having money is the problem. Of my own, I mean. Not enough. You have enough for freedom.”
“Freedom in some ways. Not all the ways I want. I could stay at home, or amuse myself, with the money Mama left me. That is not terribly free. It would be full of people criticising every detail of my dress and hair, because there was nothing more interesting to do.”
“And they do not do so currently?” Bess was teasing a little now.
“Well, in the dinner parties and gatherings and such, critiquing my clothing serves a diplomatic purpose. Also, it is not personal. I wear a costume for those events. It is a shadow of me, projected through a screen, a silhouette. It doesn’t touch me, does that make sense?” Hereswith felt that it likely didn’t make any sense outside her head .
“And so it doesn’t wound.” Bess let out a sigh. “I want— I want something of my own. Not borrowed, though borrowing from you is far easier than borrowing from Madam Judson or— well, others. You do not hold my gratitude over my head.”
“You are being a great help with Papa. He said so. My brothers were a tad difficult, but they stopped. With any luck, they will leave it alone now.” Hereswith gave it about one chance in two, but she could begin from a place of optimism until she had more information. It was not as if they could make a great deal of trouble about it. All three of them had been clear for years that managing the house and Papa’s needs was the realm of the unmarried daughter. “Now, did you decide what you’d like to do on Tuesday? Should I put in for tickets for anything tomorrow?”
That was a far more pleasant conversation, especially after Bess agreed that there was a concert she’d quite like to attend, following one of the lectures Hereswith had been hoping to hear.
Chapter 16
The next morning
On Monday, Bess’s new duties began properly. Hereswith had left the house before half-eight, leaving Bess to sort herself out. Bess had asked if Mrs Brown, the housekeeper, might have half an hour before Master Rowan would need someone handy. At nine, there’d been a knock on the sitting room door. “Mistress.”
At least Bess knew the dance of this particular etiquette question well enough. Hereswith had made it clear Bess was welcome to use her sitting room and library. Hereswith had, in fact, made that clear to Mrs Brown on Saturday morning. Bess had heard her do it. Now, the housekeeper was waiting, and Bess knew she had to navigate the delicate dance of status and experience.
Companions lived in a liminal space, never one of the family, but not quite one of the staff, either. They ate with the family or by themselves, not in the servants’ hall. They had their own room, often near to their mistress. That was less relevant here, because if Master Rowan needed help in the night, his valet was better suited for that.
Bess stood. “I’m so grateful for your time. I know that Master Rowan and the household all have their own specific rhythms, and I don’t want to interfere with any of that. I’ve found a little time at the beginning is no end of help. And I do hope you’ll let me know if there’s something I should do differently.”
