Page 19 of Claiming the Tower (Council Mysteries #1)

Sunday dinner at Verdant Court

H ereswith was not at the Midsummer Faire.

And she would not be on Monday, either. Tuesday, though, she had promised Bess an afternoon to enjoy the Faire.

It was something for Hereswith herself to look forward to, almost as much.

Saturday had been entirely tedious, and this morning was nearly as much so.

The actual diplomacy of the evening had been made of tension and entirely the sort of people who wanted the women banished to the parlour, not engaging in the actual conversation.

Not only did Hereswith want to be part of it, but Marcus preferred it when she was there.

They each had different particular foci.

He’d been just as frustrated, after. Then they’d had to appear at church this morning, with no point in going to their own homes.

The London townhome was comfortable enough, but it was not remotely hers.

Every bit had to be decorated as any woman of her class and purported background would, and all the magic had to be hidden.

They did occasionally host non-magical guests for a few days here or there, always something of a strain.

Tonight, though, both her brothers had come out for supper.

Neither of them had explained precisely why.

It was far more common for them to come singly, or for a family occasion with their wives and possibly their children.

The conversation over supper itself had an edge to it, the sort of edge Hereswith was trained to notice.

An echo, that’s how she always explained it when pressed, an open chord without the third, so you couldn’t properly tell the scale or mode without more information.

Everything being presented was accurate enough, but it was not the entire truth or the complete landscape.

It was a pen and ink sketch, if one changed artistic modes.

It wasn’t until they got to the after supper coffee that Wulfred cleared his throat. “Did you intend to withdraw, Hereswith?”

“Not tonight.” Bess was dining up in the sitting room.

She hadn’t wanted to intrude on the family.

“Not when it’s just family.” Their wives usually withdrew because they didn’t care for a good half hour of historical argument counterpointed against whatever investments Wulfred was currently considering.

Instead, she leaned forward. “Do tell why you came out today?”

Oswig hesitated. Wulfred nodded at him firmly, and Oswig spoke. “There’s been some gossip. We wanted to find out what was going on.”

“Gossip.” If her older brothers had sense, they’d have reconsidered.

Alas, they did not have that much sense.

Hereswith had wondered, for much of her adult life, how much of that was nature as opposed to nurture.

Their mother had been, by all accounts, a pleasant woman, but content with a more domestic sphere.

She’d died of a fever when Oswig was nine.

And of course, it had been different, then, in terms of how social events were arranged.

They’d been at school by the time Papa had remarried and Hereswith was born.

But for all that, they’d got along well with Mama.

She’d arranged pleasant things for them— outings and their particular amusements and interests— without, Hereswith thought, trying to step into their mother’s place.

As an adult, she suspected the correct phrase was affectionate but not maternal.

Not that Papa was particularly good at being paternal, not in that sense.

They’d muddled along, comfortably enough and without the arguments or enmities that sometimes happened.

Now, Hereswith waited for one of them to expand. Papa waited too, though she could tell he was letting Hereswith take the lead. That was partly because being sharp, the way he’d been when she was younger, was exhausting. But also because the gossip was probably more relevant to her.

“There’s someone staying, Hargrave said. Sitting with you, Father, the last two days?”

“A friend of mine.” Hereswith kept her voice clear. “Horse House, a few years ahead of me, we’ve been chatting over tea at the Field for some weeks.”

“Previously with Madam Judson.” That was Wulfred at his most disapproving.

“That would be the gossip, then?” Hereswith matched him tone for tone. “You can’t give credence to it.”

“You know nothing about the woman! There are some horrible stories about her. That there’s silver missing, that sort of thing.”

Hereswith narrowed her eyes. “You’re listening to that nonsense?”

“How do you know it’s not true?” That was Oswig. He lent forward enough he half stood up, then caught himself and sat with an audible thump. He was forgetting himself, that was a worrying sign.

Hereswith took a deep breath, then made a point of a slow sip from the glass on the table. “Would you like to hear from me, then, the scope of the arrangements?”

Wulfred almost burst out with something, and Papa raised two fingers. Wulfred subsided, and Oswig managed a more or less polite, “Please, sister, if you would share what you have in mind.”

Just to make her point, and to draw out the space a little more, Hereswith took another sip from her glass.

She could only do that twice more without being obvious.

She didn’t have enough wine left. “Mistress Marley has spent the past two decades as a companion in several respectable households, serving patiently with care. As is common— as we do for our own staff— she had permission for a half day on Thursday. She was home on time, before Madam Judson was expected back from her attendance at the Council Rites. Instead, Mistress Marley was turned out without proper notice.”

Wulfred was about to say something, but Hereswith forged on, refusing to give him so much as a breath to interrupt.

“Mistress Marley could bring none of her things, she was not permitted to pack her personal items, even to bring her savings down from her room. It was after banking hours on the solstice. That’s the sort of thing you do if there’s a concern about safety, not for being a few minutes late. Not that Bess was late.”

Now it was Oswig who cleared his throat, and Hereswith ignored that too.

“Naturally, Bryce and Howell were glad to see to the practical details. They made sure that Mistress Marley’s personal possessions were properly inventoried, packed safely, and returned to her on the Friday, as well as all payment due.

They’ve set up the current contract, entirely within the expected standards.

” This was where she paused for effect. “And they have ensured that Bess’s side of things was properly reviewed under truth charms, calling in a favour from one of the staff in the Courts.

She is not the one at fault here, whatever story Madam Judson is putting around. ”

Oswig looked from Hereswith to Papa and back to Hereswith. “What precisely is she doing here? You have been vehement you do not need a chaperone.”

“I do not. We are of Albion, not Victoria’s Britain, thank you.

I can be trusted in public and in private without a keeper of my purity or chastity.

” Not that she had actually done anything that might affect either, but that was neither here nor there.

In all such things in Victoria’s realm, it was the show of the thing that mattered as much as the reality.

“But I do like her company. And Papa does too, so far. The agreement is that Bess is spending time with Papa for the month. We will re-evaluate at the end of three weeks what makes sense going forward.”

Papa picked his time to speak very well, adding, “I like the woman. She does not fuss about finding books in the library, she asks good questions, and she does not chatter on. And—” He hesitated for a moment. “I do feel better having someone in the room when I am on my own for some time.”

“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.