Page 17 of The Heiress's Daughter
“I know,” Clarissa said. “Both Betty and I are orphans.”
The girl made a rude sound. “Yeah, you look it.”
“I’m a foundling, and I started out in a place like this,” Betty said. “I hated it. But now I work for miss.”
The girl eyed her cynically. “So?”
Clarissa stared. That scowl, those eyes, that cynical curl of the lip; they were as familiar to her as her own reflection. It was Izzy to the life, Izzy as she had been perhaps four or five years ago. But for the age difference, this girl and her sister could be twins.
“Miss Studley, are you there, Miss Studley?” Miss Glass appeared from around a corner, breathing heavily. “Miss Studley, visitors are not permitted in this—” She broke off and glared at the girl. “Susan Bennet, haven’t you cleaned that mess off yet? Get rid of it at once and return to your lessons. Miss Studley, if you would care to step this way, I have gels waiting to be interviewed.”
Clarissa stepped forward and put a hand on the young girl’s arm. “No need, Miss Glass. I have chosen this girl.”
The girl called Susan—or was it Zoë?—pulled her arm away, eyeing Clarissa suspiciously. “Chosen? What for?”
“Susan Bennet?” Miss Glass exclaimed. “Oh no, no, no! She is not at all suitable for your needs. She has neither the temperament nor the aptitude to become a lady’s maid.”
“Lady’s maid?” the girl echoed. “I don’t want to be a—”
Betty pinched her. “Shut it!” she said in a low voice. Clarissa hoped Miss Glass couldn’t hear. “Me and Miss Clarissa are gettin’ you out of here.”
Susan/Zoë narrowed her eyes.
“There are other, much more suitable gels,” Miss Glass began.
“I’m sure there are,” Clarissa said pleasantly, “but my mind is made up; this is the girl I want.”
“I’m afraid I cannot allow—”
Clarissa raised her brows and said in as cool a voice as she could manage, “I thought you said you wished to place all your charges in respectable employment.”
“Yes, but—”
“Then it’s settled. I will take Miss Bennet. Immediately, if you please.”
“Benoît,” the girl muttered.
“You don’t understand. That girl will be nothing but trouble; she’s unruly, ungovernable, wayward, disobedient and willful. She’s headstrong, obstinate—”
“You will not be held responsible for any problems that may arise,” Clarissa said briskly, hoping her anxiety didn’t show. She turned. “Collect your things, Miss Bennet, you’re coming with us.”
The girl hesitated, her expression sullen and mistrustful. She looked from Miss Glass to Clarissa to Betty, who nodded in an encouraging way. Then she shrugged, turned and tromped up a narrow staircase Clarissa hadn’t noticed, Betty following close behind her.
Clarissa and Miss Glass returned to the front entrance, the matron trying all the time to convince Clarissa that taking this particular orphan was a huge mistake. Clarissa murmured soothing responses, but didn’t back down.
She was determined not to let Susan/Zoë out of her grasp.
In a few minutes, Betty and the girl arrived, the latter carrying a small bundle knotted into a cloth and a long cardboard cylinder, and wearing a surly expression. Notoverburdened with possessions, then. And judging by her demeanor Betty hadn’t managed to convince her that this was a good thing. Oh well, that would change as soon as Clarissa explained.
Which would take some doing. The whole thing was incredible.
Clarissa thanked Miss Glass and the three of them climbed into the waiting carriage. The girl sat silently clutching her bundle and tube to her. She eyed the smart interior with a jaundiced expression but said nothing.
The carriage pulled away, and Clarissa and Betty looked at the girl, then at each other and burst out laughing. “I never thought she’d let her go,” Betty began.
“No, I—”
“Whoareyou people?” the girl burst out angrily. She reached for the door handle. “I dunno what you want with me, but I’ll tell you now I’m no bloody lady’s maid—old Glass was right about that—so I’m warnin’ you, if you’re white slavers or somethin’ I’m jumpin’ out of this carriage, right now, and I don’t care how fast it’s going.”
