Talia watched the two girls in front of her.
Melia had found another pathetic soul to fuss over and tend.
She loved her little sister dearly, but Melia should grow up, not bring home every wounded cat and bird.
The other girl, Venya, was about her age, but her green eyes had a tint that Talia couldn’t quite place.
Venya’s long blond hair was neatly tied into two braids, and when she moved her head, her hair shimmered with a faint rosy color.
She had never seen hair like that before.
Her own hair was a dull sandy blond.
It didn’t shimmer or shine.
It just was.
Although the girl was beautiful and would undoubtedly catch the eye of many men, Talia dismissed her as a potential rival.
There were already far too few eligible unmarried men in the village, and none of them would seriously consider marrying a penniless foreigner.
Unless Venya was secretly a princess.
Oh dear, maybe she shouldn’t read those trashy romance stories.
Having tea and tiny, carefully decorated cookies around the small table served two purposes.
First, she wanted to teach Melia.
Her sister needed a great deal of practice if she was to have any kind of decent future.
Otherwise, Talia feared that she and her future husband would end up responsible for her.
Second, she wanted to see what kind of manners Venya had and whether she could control herself.
To Talia’s satisfaction, the strange girl was fairly poised and handled her second-best porcelain well enough.
Melia, on the other hand… “Sit up straight and don’t spill.” Melia had raised her teacup to drink, but her posture was dreadful.
She put it down and glared at Talia from beneath lowered brows.
Melia should be happy to receive such valuable insight from her.
When Melia reached for the cookies, Talia slapped her dirty hand away and placed one cookie on Melia’s plate with a sigh.
Talia knew that she herself was the reason Melia had grown into such a free little mouse.
Her parents’ time, especially her mother’s, had been spent on her.
She shouldn’t punish Melia for that.
Melia had told her about Venya and the gold bracelet yesterday.
On one point, Talia agreed with her: the younger Thornwick brother was a thoughtless brat.
She wondered why he had taken it.
Had it been just an accident, or was there a deeper meaning?
“Why would I hire her?” Talia nodded toward Venya.
“I don’t want any part of this nonsense.” “I already told you,” Melia said.
Her lower lip had started to tremble.
She was going to lose it any moment.
Melia slapped both hands down on the table and stood up.
The dishes rattled, but nothing spilled onto the tablecloth, and nothing broke.
“Melia…” “The kids went overboard hoarding stuff for me from your household and the mansion, especially the valuable things,” Venya interrupted.
Melia nodded as if she regretted it.
That brat.
At the same time, Melia corrected whatever Venya had gotten wrong in their language.
The woman must be a foreign princess.
Her words were so strange.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see the consequences if the bracelet wasn’t returned.” Venya set down her teacup and looked Talia straight in the eye.
The look in the woman’s eyes made the back of Talia’s neck prickle.
Talia tapped the edge of the table with her fingers.
She didn’t like the woman.
There was something about her.
She knew perfectly well that the bracelet had to be returned.
She tried to find a way that didn’t involve her, but eventually she had to admit their plan was the best.
“All right.
As long as I don’t have to do anything other than take Venya to the mansion.” Talia would take Venya to the Thornwick mansion as her maid.
While Talia attended the reception, Venya would try to leave the bracelet on Lord Thornwick’s desk.
But if his study was locked, Venya would leave it in Rive’s room instead.
Melia assured them that Rive never locked his bedroom door.
If everything went well, it would take less than fifteen minutes.
“You don’t utter a word.
Pretend you’re mute.
And if you get caught…” Talia took a sip of her tea.
“I can’t save you.
All I can say is that I hired you for the day because Bridget has the day off.
Whatever else you do, you do on your own.” She would have to give Bridget the rest of the day off once Bridget had helped Talia get ready for the reception.
Once everyone was in agreement, they went to look for a suitable maid’s dress for Venya.
Before they could begin, however, Melia and Venya exchanged a few whispers, and then Melia took the opportunity to slip away, muttering something about a lynx and a shovel.
Talia sighed.
The girl was a lost cause.
The Summerhay maids wore simple light-blue dresses with white trim at the cuffs and hem.
The dress fit snugly across Venya’s chest.
“It’s a little tight, but we don’t have enough time to fix it.” Talia frowned at the strained buttons.
They found a suitable pair of shoes easily enough.
Talia eyed Venya’s hideous, mismatched boots.
“Right!
Don’t you look lovely.
Let me show you how to walk and where to keep your hands.” Talia explained every little detail of how a maid should talk and walk, even though they had agreed that Venya would pretend to be mute.
Talia drew a map of the mansion and went over it carefully so Venya could find her way around and avoid going to the wrong places.
“Don’t run, Venya.” The real problem turned out to be her walking.
Her steps were too fast and determined.
Maids were supposed to be meek and certainly walk more slowly than their mistress.
“Okay, time for a test.” Once Venya got her pace right, Talia led her downstairs.
Her parents usually had afternoon coffee around this time, but only her mother was there.
“Oh, honey, who is this lovely young girl?
Did you hire yourself a new maid?
Did something happen to Bridget?” her mother asked when she saw them descending the stairs.
“Yes.
Bridget is not available tomorrow afternoon, so I hired her temporarily.” “What’s your name, dear?” “Her name is Venya.
She can’t speak.” “Oh, that’s terrible.
You must have an awful life.” Her mother didn’t sound sorry for Venya at all.
Talia lowered her gaze.
Venya wasn’t actually mute, but sometimes Talia just wished her mother would keep her thoughts to herself.
“Be a dear and fetch your father.
The coffee is already set out in the pink salon.
Will you join us?” “No, thank you.
I had tea a little while ago,” Talia answered and walked toward her father’s study.
Talia glanced sideways to make sure Venya was walking beside her, just half a step behind.
Good, she was a fast learner.
If only Melia were one-tenth as quick, Talia would be blessed.
The door to her father’s study stood ajar.
Through the opening, Talia saw that her father was not alone.
He was talking to a tall man.
The man was dressed in black.
He held a wide-brimmed black hat in one hand while his other one was tucked into the pocket of his fitted jacket.
His dark hair was slicked back.
It was Robert.
No, Magistrate Whitlock, Talia corrected herself in her mind.
In her dreams, she called him Robert while he whispered her name in her ear.
She felt heat rising to her cheeks.
“Will you join us for afternoon coffee?
I would like to show you the table clock I bought in Waterfort last week,” her father asked.
Please, please, she prayed, too afraid to breathe or move.
“You did?
But I must decline.” Her breath came out shaky, and her ever-so-perfect posture wilted.
Then she straightened and knocked on the doorframe to announce their presence.
“Ah, there you are, Talia.
Come here, child,” her father urged.
How many times had she told her father not to call her child?
And now was the worst possible moment.
If she wasn’t blushing before, she surely was now.
“How have you been, sir?” Keeping her eyes low, Talia dropped into a curtsy.
She didn’t dare look into his deep brown eyes.
She extended her hand a little, hoping he would kiss it.
Finally, her prayers were answered when he took her fingers in his rough hand.
“I have been good.
And now I’m even… better,” he murmured.
His lips brushed lightly over her knuckles.
“And who might that be accompanying your daughter?” Robert asked with a polite nod.
“Who?
Isn’t that Bridget?” “No, Father.
She is Sarah…” Her mind raced as she searched for a surname.
She clasped her hands in front of her.
“Boots.
Sarah Boots.
She is Bridget’s cousin.
Bridget arranged for her to fill in.” Boots?
She wasn’t sure why she had given Robert a false name when she had told her mother the real one only minutes earlier.
She never lied.
She hated it.
But right now, she was pleased.
Talia felt the woman’s questioning stare on her back, and when Talia turned to look at her, Venya quickly hid her smile and put on a stern face.
She dropped into a clumsy curtsy to the man.
Was she mocking her?
“A cousin on her father’s or mother’s side, miss?” the magistrate asked Venya.
Venya smiled faintly, pressed a finger against her lips, and glanced at Talia.
“She is mute.” “Is that so?
Excellent,” the magistrate murmured.
He gave the new maid a small bow.
What do you think about him?
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