Page 22 of Claiming the Tower (Council Mysteries #1)

O n Thursday, Bess went into Trellech with several purposes, some of them more visible than others.

Mrs Brown had let her know yesterday that Billings and Sons had two or three new blends that might be to her taste.

The most sensible thing to do was to try them.

She was considering the complex social maths about whether she might reasonably ask for them and let Mrs Brown know for future orders.

Second, she intended to check with the agency she’d used for her prior placements, and let them know she was open to new work.

Third, she wanted to stop by the Field briefly and make a payment on her fees there.

She currently had her remaining pay from Madam Judson in hand and more confidence in a forthcoming sum from the Rowans.

Last, she wanted to stop by a particular bookshop.

She got to Billings and Sons perhaps thirty minutes after they opened, and they were not yet busy. She only had to wait for a minute or two for the clerk to be done with the woman ahead of her at the counter before he nodded. “Good morning, Mistress. How may we be help you?”

“Good morning.” There was every reason to be pleasant.

“I am living at Verdant Court at the moment, companion to Master Rowan. Mrs Brown mentioned you had a couple of new tea blends that might be of interest.” She pulled out the neatly written note.

“These three? If I could learn more about them, and perhaps taste one?”

“You would be welcome to taste all three, mistress.” The clerk was young— well, most clerks were noticeably young to Bess these days, near enough two decades younger.

“Mrs Brown mentioned you might be by.” He turned away, fussing with tea kept at boiling.

He measured leaves into tiny little teapots, just enough for a few sips of tea, with a practised pinch of each blend.

“Mrs Brown mentioned that if you find you like any, you are to put it on the household account.”

That, Bess had not expected at all. “Oh.” She couldn’t quite hide her surprise. “If that’s what she told you, then, of course.” It would make the judgements about the decision trickier, especially since the prices were not obvious. “A few minutes for them to steep, then?”

“Yes, mistress. If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll bring them out to you and let you know more about each.

” The clerk rather elegantly gestured her to a small table with a comfortable enough chair.

Bess spent the minutes looking around the shop and watching people go by through the large window that faced the street.

The teas were presented on a rather darling little tray, with cups sized to let her get a good sense of the smell and a few sips each.

There was even cold water to help between different teas.

Each was a blend of black and green, that was common, but the trick of it was in the quality of each, and whether there was anything added.

The first blend tasted too dear for her to get fond of.

That was an excellent and smooth green in the mix, and the most delicate of orange pekoe leaves.

The second was a more likely blend, well-made and balanced, but smokier.

The third, though, had rose petals and, as she peered at the listing, a touch of currant.

Bess nodded. “The third, please. Did Mrs Brown suggest an amount, given the household needs?”

The clerk bowed slightly. “Our usual suggestion is two ounces, to begin, and of course she will be here Wednesday next, should more be needed.” He inclined his head to the first pot. “Are you certain you’d not care for the others?”

Her fingers twitched toward the first cup, and she took the last small sip left, letting her eyes half close. The clerk, above her, said, “Mrs Brown thought that might please Mistress Rowan. I’ll just add two ounces of that to the order, shall I?”

Bess certainly could not argue with him.

She did not have the will to do so. And it was true, Hereswith might well like it exceedingly, given the tea orders so far.

Once she had surrendered to the order happening, the clerk was very efficient, packaging it all up tidily for her to add to her basket.

Bess went out, with a smile and a promise to praise his help to Mrs Brown, and went along to the agency.

That, unfortunately, was rather less successful.

Mistress Fuller, who ran the agency, left her sitting for a good half hour, even though there was no sign of other conversation or visitor in the front room.

Just the woman who greeted supplicants in search of work, or those looking to hire.

The latter, of course, had appointments and were shown in immediately to one of the offices.

When Bess finally was shown in, Mistress Fuller glanced up, then waved her to a seat. “You won’t get a character from Madam Judson. The way she’s been talking about you, I can’t imagine someone taking you on.”

Bess pulled her basket onto her lap, a wall between her and the world, her stomach twisting.

She kept her voice even. “I’ve a position with the Rowans at the moment.

Master Cenric Rowan and his daughter, Mistress Hereswith.

A month’s term, to see if I suit Master Rowan’s needs.

I’ve the promise of a good character if my work is competent— as you know it will be— but I am not what he prefers at the moment. ”

That brought Mistress Fuller’s chin up. “And will they give you a good enough character to drown out the gossip?”

Bess wished she could ask the details of the gossip, but really she couldn’t.

It would be showing her vulnerability entirely too much.

“Bryce and Howell ensured that Madam Judson fulfilled the terms of the contract she’d made on Friday.

They also saw that my side of leaving was sworn under oath, properly in the record, that it was no fault of mine.

That confirms that Madam Judson breached the contract, and for no proper reason.

That does nothing for the gossip, of course, but you are welcome to verify the truth of the matter yourself. ”

“Ah.” Mistress Fuller leaned back, now peering over her glasses at Bess. Bess took a deeper breath and released it. “You are correct that changes the situation, but it would take time. What are your requirements for a position?”

Bess laid out the terms she was seeking, similar to what the Rowans had offered with no quibbling.

She noted it was the standard rate, an afternoon off a week, and a full day once a month, along with what was to be provided.

Mistress Fuller listened without comment, but at the end, she nodded.

“Nothing now, but perhaps in a month or two. There is a chance the upcoming Council Challenge might bring some rearrangements to one or more households. I will write, if I hear of anything plausible. Don’t bother to come by. ”

Don’t risk bringing more gossip to her doorstep, in other words.

“As you say. Good day, Mistress Fuller. I know my way out.” The benefit of it being summer was that she could sail out the door.

There was no need to stop to put on a cloak or warm gloves.

It wasn’t until she was away from the offices and a good way down the street that she could stop and think.

She ended up turning, going to the Field.

There might be gossip there. Oh, there absolutely would be gossip there.

But holding her head up at the Field might go some way to being a help in the weeks to come.

Once she was inside, Adelaide took the basket to set aside for her, and found her a seat in one of the more conversational nooks.

Bess settled comfortably, accepted a cup of tea from the pot on the table, and let the conversation flow around her until someone asked how she was doing.

“Hereswith’s asked me to be at home with her father for the time being.

He’s rather delightful. Very much still deep in his particular interests, but I’m finding it quite interesting to learn more about that.

And the household is lovely, well-run in all the details.

Such a pleasure to see to people who have high standards. ”

That got the necessary gossip up on the right foot.

This group were people who ranged in age from a little younger than Hereswith to a bit older than Bess.

They were all married women with children, and who didn’t have particular professional interests of their own.

Anyone who did wouldn’t be having tea a bit before the usual luncheon hour on a Thursday, after all.

But it included two particular gossips, and with any luck the story would spread from here.

Bess worried a little, as the conversation went on, that she might have leaned too much on Hereswith’s goodwill, but everything she’d said had been the truth.

And Hereswith’s father really was a delight, even compared to the mixed experience of her previous employers.

She did at least get a hair more sense of the gossip.

Madam Judson had, apparently, been putting it about that Bess’s service had been entirely unsatisfactory, ending with items going missing.

That had only lasted until mid-afternoon on Friday, after which she’d been compelled to note more quietly that there had been an error.

And the matter of the Council was interesting.

Besides the work itself, the positions came with a fair bit more entertaining.

In two cases, the announced Challengers had wives who were already kept quite busy.

A companion or social secretary or someone to manage a variety of household needs would be welcome in those cases.

And in another case, a bachelor— Basileus Martin— would be looking for someone to deal with the various hostessing duties should he be successful.

None of those were terribly likely to prefer Bess over other options, but it rather depended on a number of factors.