Page 2 of Claiming the Tower
“And you’re taking Wednesday through Sunday next week, yes? Neither of us here for Easter.” That had been the plan at luncheon today, but they both knew that plans could change without much warning. Easter was more of a show, and the parish was both more crowded and the service longer. Making an excuse for a country visit spared them both.
“We are. An invitation to use a country cottage and get out and ramble for a little. Well, ramble and read. William being William. It will be grand for the dogs, though.” Marcus looked delighted, though. He needed a few days off as much as she did, though the challenges he was juggling were a trifle different.
“That seems entirely pleasant.” Hereswith nodded. “See you in ten days, then. Enjoy the time.”
“Always do.” Marcus agreed. “My best to your father, then. I need to tidy up a little paperwork. And Hereswith?”
She had taken a few steps to the door, but turned back to look at him. “Yes?”
“You were splendid tonight. The official report will say so. I’ll send you a copy, too. I couldn’t have handled that tricky bit about the differences in provisions nearly as deftly.”
“Thank you, Marcus. I appreciate that you say so. And thank you for getting Monsieur Du Lang off me. If he’d gone on for a minute more, I might have lost my temper.” She wouldn’t actually have, but she appreciated Marcus stepping in. “My best to William.” That was easy to say, William was a delight and Marcus was lucky to have him.
“As always.” Marcus made a slight bow over her hand, and then stepped back.
With that, Hereswith took a breath, and made her way along the back hallway, to the conservatory, then through and into the passage. Once she was inside, she called a charmlight to her hand. Fortunately, at this time of night, there was very little in the way of a wait. Five minutes after that, she was walking out of the portal at home.
A few of the rooms were still lit, including the library. She drew off her gloves and shawl, handing them to Mary, who’d been waiting to meet her. “I’ll just check on Papa, if you don’t mind, and then come straight up.”
“Mr Hargrave brought him his tonic an hour ago, and he was still deep in a book, ma’am.” Mary bobbed. “A good evening?”
“Yes, but I’m looking forward to a few days of quiet. I don’t expect I’ll leave the house tomorrow, other than perhaps a walk if it doesn’t rain.” Hereswith glanced at the library.
“I’ll have things laid out. And no particular time to wake up?” Mary waited for Hereswith to shake her head. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll lay things out.”
Hereswith smiled and then went off to the library. Papa was, in fact, still awake rather than dozing in the chair, a book on an angled holder in front of him, for his comfort. He looked up as soon as he heard the door. “Ah, there you are. You look lovely. What was it tonight, then?”
“Certain French connections for supper and the theatre. Rather successful all round, actually, both the things they wanted to make sure we learned, and a few I don’t think were in their plans. Marcus sends his good wishes, of course.” She crossed the room, holding her skirts back enough she could bend to kiss him. “Have you had a good evening? You’re up later than I expected.”
“A nap, this afternoon. I don’t need as much sleep as I used to, you know that. I will be quite well, and—” There was a slight hesitation on the name. She’d been hearing that before, before he got it right. “Hargrave will be in to see me to bed in a few minutes. You go on up. You had no nap, I’m sure. You never have taken to them well.”
“I have not napped, no. Luncheon tomorrow, unless you have some other better plan?”
“Nothing like that. Good night, Hereswith, my dear.” It was a dismissal, but the sort that avoided them going back and forth in fondness for ten minutes. Hereswith retreated. The process of getting her out of the evening’s gown took a few minutes, and more to release her hair and braid it for the night. But eventually she was tucked into bed, with no obligations on Saturday but those she chose.
Chapter 2
April 25th in Trellech
By the time Hereswith made it to The Field, she was tempted to turn around and go right on home. It had been a particularly tedious sort of day, in half a dozen ways. Days that were tedious in one mode were entirely understandable, but this had involved two annoying but necessary meetings, two unnecessary meetings, and having to explain the basics of her work twice. Also, far too many cups of lukewarm and over-steeped tea. The last was just an insult, honestly.
If she went home, she would fume to herself for hours. That was not good for her. Nor was it kind to people she’d be around tomorrow. That was mostly Marcus, who was blameless in today’s annoyances. He’d done his best to redirect the conversation, with slightly more success than she’d had, but only slightly. So, here she was, at The Field.
At Bourne’s or Wishton’s— she had memberships at both, given her work and family— she’d just have found more reasons to be annoyed. The Field, however, offered at least the hope of something different. There might be some pleasant conversation she could enjoy, a card game to join, or just a quiet meal with a book with other people around.
“Mistress Rowan, a good evening. Did you wish a private room? Your favourite is open, or there’s space in the conversation room or the reading room.” Adelaide Ledger’s glance dropped to the sheet on her podium. “We’ve a table at half six for an early supper, or eight for a later one. Other times, if you’re willing to share.” Adelaide knew her preferences, of course, as she knew every member of the club. Or at least every member who came here regularly. She’d reigned over her particular duties for twenty years now, starting during Hereswith’s own schooldays, though she’d been employed at the club longer than that.
What Hereswith appreciated more and more was Adelaide’s deft sense of judging a situation from a few words. Hereswith’s mood was obviously showing at least a little, given that the first offer had been for a private room. But not so much that Adelaide had hesitated to suggest the more public spaces. It was a useful calibration.
“The conversation room, please. And a decent cup of tea and something modest to go with it. I’m likely to eat supper at home.” She often shared a table here, but it was a question of who she’d be sharing with. The thing about the Field was, all of them being of Horse House, it would not be sharp and tense, most likely. But it didn’t mean that any two members had a great deal in common. Hereswith could discuss the day’s paper and news, the current bohort matches, and the latest theatre and performances in Trellech as well as the next woman, but that only went so far over a meal.
“Of course, Mistress Rowan, this way.” The halls were quiet enough right now, making it a relatively simple process to go down to the conversation room at the end of the ground floor on the left. Only about half the chairs were taken, and Hereswith selected one by itself, near a pair.
She nodded at the woman sitting alone there, Bess Marley. Bess was enough older, seven years, that they’d not overlapped at school. And not here very often, only ever on a Tuesday. It was the sort of detail that Hereswith tracked without comment these days, because those patterns could be useful in the small dance of diplomacy.
Hereswith promptly settled her skirts, letting them spread out. The chair was deliciously comfortable, of course. No piece of furniture at The Field was permitted to be anything else. Adelaide waited until she was seated, then spoke quietly, sufficient it would not be overheard, and with a little shift of protocol. “Would you have a moment in the next week or two to speak to someone? Eloise Hunter, she’s having a spot of bother in her current role. One to another.”
Eloise was a member of the Society of the White Horse, as both Adelaide and Hereswith were. But she’d gone to Snap rather than to Schola— well, as most of the White Horse did. That did not always prepare people as directly for the machinations of Albion’s Ministry. Eloise had been in her role, oh, it had been about two years. That meant the disruption of promotions and additional duties.
