Page 6 of Claiming the Tower (Council Mysteries #1)

“Did she.” That did not bode well for the housekeeper, even if she was right.

Bess had more status in the household than a housekeeper, that liminal space between servant and family.

Not that other family lived in the house.

Madam Judson thumped her cane once on the floor.

“Bess, girl. Go send her away, without drawing attention. I’ll be watching you out the window. ”

“Of course, Madam Judson.” Bess took a moment to coil the rest of the thread she’d sorted so they wouldn’t tangle again. “I can come back to the threads later.”

“Tonight, once I’m gone to bed, if you please. I’ll want you to read to me before supper.” That meant Bess would be up late, far later than she wanted. And that she’d get none of her own reading done, and she’d hoped for at least a few pages. She didn’t let any of that show.

“Of course, ma’am.” Bess waited to be dismissed, then hurried down to go out the front door, pausing only long enough to make sure she looked tidy.

At the great wrought-iron gate at the far end of the drive, she saw the new vicar’s wife.

She was a younger woman, still in her middle twenties, with all the optimism of the age.

Bess could see James, one of the footmen, settled in his usual place by the gate, in case of callers or messages, and she nodded at him once.

“Mrs Halston? I’m Elizabeth Marley, companion to Mrs Judson.

” She used the terms suitable for the non-magical.

This was why it couldn’t be left to one of the staff as easily.

“Oh, just the person! I’ve heard rather a lot about the estate, and I hoped that someone might contribute to the fete next month.

It’s a rush to get everything together, but the church roof needs a fair bit of work, we gather.

Everybody doing their bit will make light work.

” At this point, Bess had been through three different vicars and their wives here, as well as others she had known in earlier positions.

This one was decidedly optimistic and would need letting down gently.

“Ah. Mrs Judson is, well, her health plagues her. I’m afraid she’s not able to lend a hand, and she keeps me close in case she needs anything.

” Bess would, actually, enjoy the challenge of organising a church fete on short notice, even without having enough of a sense of the personalities of the village.

“I’m afraid we don’t get to the village often ourselves, even for church. ”

That part was at least a tiny bit of a lie.

The Judsons kept their own family traditions, a mix of Roman revival and family magic that was not so much religious as a point of fact.

Bess hadn’t been able to keep her own family customs for years, and she tucked that far away inside her head because dwelling on it made her angry.

“Oh.” Mrs Halston looked overset, as if she’d assumed this was the answer to all her needs.

Bess considered. “Let me have a talk with our housekeeper and cook. There might be some jam or some such that we could give to the cause. And we could perhaps lend one or two of the footmen to helping set up the stalls and games. What date did you have in mind?”

“Oh, June twenty-first, we thought it a decent chance of sun.”

“Ah.” Bess took a breath. “I’m afraid the household already has some obligations, then.

A family gathering, and our staff will be needed for that.

But perhaps a day or two before. I’ll ask.

” Solstice week was always chaos. There were the expectations of the Judsons, but also the Council rites, parties after, and the gatherings around the Midsummer Faire.

“Jam, or something of the kind, that’s more likely.

I’m afraid you’ll find we’re sometimes a little out of step with the local calendar, as an estate.

You know how ancient family traditions are. ”

“Oh, I suppose.” Mrs Halston glanced up at the house.

“May I ask, are you related to the family?” That was often the case for companions, some poor cousin or spinster aunt given a place.

The family would say it was out of charity and pity, but really it was an excellent way to get household staff on the cheap.

Bess didn’t even have that going for her.

“Ah, no. My parents died some years ago, and I needed to make my way in the world. I’d been a companion to two other women.

M...” She caught herself before saying Madam again.

“Mrs Carlton died of old age, poor dear. But one of her friends suggested me to Mrs Judson.” There, that was all proper, and if it came out in gossip, well, it wouldn’t get Bess in trouble.

“I’m grateful to be here.” That was true.

It wasn’t as if she had much in the way of other options.

She’d gone to Schola, but then her parents hadn’t been able to arrange a useful apprenticeship for her.

She’d learned from half a dozen aunts and their friends all the domestic skills of managing an estate.

Right around when she might think of looking for a place of her own, Mama and Papa had died a year apart.

They’d died of the sort of illnesses brought on by needing to skimp a little too much on everything.

It had left Bess with little in the way to draw on at a time her yearmates at Schola had been finishing apprenticeships and moving into rewarding work.

She’d had good breeding, but hadn’t had the connections to get taken on at one of the tutoring schools or as a governess.

Being a companion was better than the other options.

“Ah.” The vicar’s wife nodded. “I won’t take more of your time then. But I hope we see you some Sunday, soon, if not for the fete itself.”

“Perhaps. It depends very much on Mrs Judson. I will send a note along about whatever we might offer, though, in a day or so.” They parted at the gate, and Bess turned to make her way briskly back up the drive to report on the entire conversation.