A Shadow Bright and Burning (Kingdom on Fire #1)(14)
“I speak veddy good-ah Een-glish,” he said in a dreadful accent. “But my Italian is terrible,” he added in a perfectly normal voice, which made me laugh. He winked at me.
I met the chess-playing fellows by the window as well. The small, pale one was Clarence Lambe; the large one, Isaac Wolff. They seemed pleasant and polite, but immediately returned to their game. Not the most social of creatures.
“Where’s George?” Agrippa said, glancing about the room. “I was expecting a full welcome.”
Of course, Lord Blackwood. My heart sped up as I looked back at the door, waiting for his entrance. I smoothed and fluffed my skirt.
“He went out,” Cellini said. “His Lordship said he had important matters to attend to.” Cellini pursed his mouth and stuck his nose in the air. Magnus and Dee laughed.
Agrippa frowned. “I asked everyone to be home this evening.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I would meet him eventually, after all. And being an earl, he probably did have important matters.
“Well,” Agrippa said, “it can wait until tomorrow. You look as if you could do with some rest, Miss Howel.” He eased up from the sofa.
“Good night,” I said, curtsying to the gentlemen. They bowed in return, Dee laughing a little. I suppose this was as strange to them as it was to me.
Agrippa and I climbed the stairs to the third floor and made a right down a long hallway. Agrippa gestured to a door at the end. “This is the Rose Room. I trust you’ll be comfortable.” He smiled, but his eyes kept nervously flickering toward the door. “I shall have a maid come up and assist you. Good night.” He bowed and left me to enter the room on my own.
Agrippa had struck me as an old bachelor, so I was surprised to find a room with pale pink walls and a dusky rose bedspread. A mirrored vanity sat to one side of the room, laden with glass bottles of scents and oils, a silver-backed brush, and an ivory comb. A china pitcher and bowl with delicate floral patterns waited on a table, along with a cut-glass vase of roses. The fire in the white marble hearth blazed. Having a fire laid only for me was such a luxury that I nearly began to cry. At Brimthorn, I’d gone to bed shivering more often than not.
“Beg pardon, miss.” I turned to find a maid in a cap and apron. She opened the wardrobe and laid out a white cotton nightgown. I sat on the bed, not knowing what to do. How did one go about having a maid? Was I supposed to talk to her, or was that not allowed? I smiled at her, shy, and was grateful when she smiled back.
Moments later, I lay beneath the pink silk coverlet and basked in the quiet of the room. Only a few nights before, I’d been in the attic, sharing a bed with Jane Lawrence. The teachers and children all slept together in one long dormitory, and there was never any peace, with everyone’s wheezing and snoring. The silence here was almost disconcerting. But I’d never been this comfortable before in my life, and it had been such a long day. I closed my eyes, and sleep carried me away.
—
THE NEXT DAY, I WOKE FIRMLY tangled in blankets. My neck was stiff, and I groaned as I sat up. My hair hung in my face. How long had I been asleep? Someone pushed the bed’s drapes aside. It was the maid from the previous night.
“Good afternoon, then, miss!” she said, smiling. I blinked stupidly at her. “Almost evening, really. Nice to see you awake. Not that you can’t have a lie-in, but Master did want you up soon. An hour more and I’d have had to shake you myself. Wouldn’t have liked to, of course. After the journey you’ve had, I think you should be allowed to sleep until next year.” She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, a girl with a heart-shaped face and strawberry-blond hair.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked, rubbing my eyes. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Lilly. I’m to be your maid till Master sees fit to hire a lady’s maid.” She never stopped beaming. “You’re from Yorkshire, they say. Is it pleasant there? Seems dangerous nowadays, but I always wanted to go. ’Course, can’t just up and leave on holiday when you’re in service, can you? And not when there’s a war on, at any rate. Maybe one day it’ll end, though I can’t see how. Still, suppose it’s not for me to wonder. Master says I’m to have you cleaned and ready by half past seven. My, but you’re dark. Not that it’s bad—I think dark women look mysterious—but Miss Gwen’s colors may not suit you, but we can try nonetheless.”
I’d never known a girl to talk so much. “Thank you,” I said as Lilly opened the wardrobe and pulled out several beautiful dresses, laying them on the bed beside me. “Are you certain Miss Gwen won’t be irritated with my taking her gowns? Or her room, for that matter?”
Lilly startled. “Miss Gwen was the Master’s daughter. She’s been gone these last four years.”
“Oh.” My hand flew to my mouth in embarrassment. Poor Agrippa. “I’m so sorry. How did she die?”
“Scarlet fever. I never knew her, as I came to work here afterward, but all the servants loved her.”
“I hate to think of Master Agrippa disturbing this room for me.” I got out of the bed, feeling almost guilty for sleeping there.
“No, it was no trouble. This room’s turned down regular as clockwork. Just as when she was alive.” Lilly shook her head. “Anyway, I’ve hot water and lavender soap for your wash. Afterward, we’ll dress you for the gentlemen.”