Page 15 of Felicity Cabot Sells Her Soul
“Yes, madam. For you. Mr. Carlisle informed the staff that with your duties at Mrs. Lewis’, you would be something of an early riser. Should you prefer a later breakfast in the future?”
“No, I—I overslept.” Because of that damnedtoocomfortable bed. Because she hadn’t woken even once shivering beneath a bundle of blankets. Because her head had sunk into the pillow as if she had laid it upon a cloud. “But I really must be at the school no later than eight.” And she might well find it impossible to rise of her own accord. “If someone might be sent to wake me should I fail to rise before seven…”
“Of course, madam. The staff is at your disposal.”
“Thank you—er, Butler.” Felicity winced. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s only that it feels almost as though I am addressing you by your position rather than your name.”
His mustache twitched again, in a tiny display of encroaching mirth. “I suppose it must make it a sight easier to recall,” he said. He added, conspiratorially, “We’ve got a kitchenmaid by the name of Nancy Carver.”
Startled, Felicity issued a short laugh. “And does she?”
“Whenever the cook allows.” He smoothed away the last traces of his amusement. “If you’ll excuse me, madam, I will send for the carriage.”
Felicity let the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach guide her back toward the dining room in search of breakfast, relieved not to have found an adversary in Ian’s butler.
Only time would tell whether she had found an ally.
Chapter Six
Did you think your secrets would be safe forever, Felicity Carlisle?
Felicity crumpled the note in her hand and shoved it into her pocket for safekeeping until she could burn it. Just like all the rest, it had been delivered directly to the door, pushed through the mail slot. Curious that it had come to her here, however, since if the sender was informed enough to know that she had been recently married and to whom, then surely her new address would also be known to them.
Which could only mean that whoever was responsible for sending these missives intended them for her eyes alone. Unless and until, she supposed, she failed to meet their demands—which were still unspoken. Worrisome, that. They had kept her in agonizing uncertainty for weeks, now. On tenterhooks in the waiting, each new note another slice to her fraying nerves. What did they know, and how did they mean to use it? She had been so careful, so cautious—
A short, sharp knock at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin. “Felicity?” came a soft, inquisitive voice.
Nellie. “Come in,” she said as Nellie peeked her head through the door. “I was just going through the mail.”
“Could you possibly put it off for a while?” Nellie asked. “We’ve a great number of interviews to conduct.”
“Interviews?” Taken aback, Felicity rose to her feet. “For what?”
Nellie’s brow pinched. “For the new teachers,” she said. “And a few servants. We have been short of staff for ages, you know.”
Of course she knew. It would have been impossible not to know, when her teaching duties had ever expanded. Well past the deportment for which she had been hired, and into other subjects which she had felt increasingly unqualified to teach. “We can’t afford such things,” she said on a sigh. “Nellie—”
Nellie blinked wide, baffled eyes at her. “Of course we can,” she said. “Mr. Carlisle has already agreed to it. Don’t you recall?”
In fact, she recalled little of their prior conversation, since she had been too overwrought by the revelation that Ian had purchased the school building out from beneath them. But she cast her memory back and struggled to pluck fragments of Nellie’s words from the haze of rage that had muted them.Investor, she had said.Wages, stipends, expenses.
“Mr. Carlisle has offered to pay for these things?” she asked tentatively.
“Not offered,” Nellie said. “Insisted, through his solicitor, Mr. Graves. We are in desperate need of the staff, dear, and I imagine that a new husband would not want his wife to be working such dreadfully long hours. He was gracious enough—”
Felicity snorted.
“—To place an advertisement in this morning’s paper. I’ve hired on two new maids already, but I thought I should leave the management of the teaching staff to you.”
As its new headmistress, Felicity supposed. “I’d rather be teaching deportment.”
Nellie chuckled. “No, you wouldn’t,” she said. “I’ll allow that you are a proficient teacher. But perhaps not quite the most suited to instructing students in rules you are far more comfortable breaking than adhering to.”
“Nellie!”
Nellie waved away the startled exclamation. “You know it is true,” she said, and for one horrible moment, Felicity thought Nellie might have been about to confess to some knowledge of Felicity’s ill-fated and long-dead romance. Instead she said, “You’ve a dreadful tendency to slouch, you know. But you’ve always constrained yourself to private moments, and so I never thought it worth mentioning.”
Felicity relaxed her stiff shoulders, affecting that same slouch which she would never have allowed to show itself in public. “Have we time for such interviews?” she asked. “The girls?”
