Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,30

her, the white lappets from her lace cap bouncing on her shoulders.

‘Miss Prentess, welcome, my dear. Pray come you in and do not be standing out here in this cold wind.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Gifford.’

The older lady ushered her indoors to a small parlour off the hall, where a welcome fire was burning.

‘Has our builder arrived yet?’

‘Not yet, ma’am, but you have made very good time—I do not expect him for another half-hour yet. You have time for a little refreshment. Jane is bringing a glass of mulled wine for you.’

‘Thank you, that is very welcome.’

Susannah untied the strings of her cloak and looked about her. She had always thought this parlour a very comfortable room. With its low, plastered ceiling and panelled walls it was certainly one of the easiest to keep warm. A door on the far side led to a much larger dining room, but that needed refurbishment and was currently not in use, the occupants of the house finding the smaller apartment sufficient for their needs. A padded armchair and sofa were arranged before the fireplace while under the window a small table and chairs provided a surface for dining or working. At present the table was littered with writing materials and a large ledger, indicating that the housekeeper had been at work on the accounts. Susannah draped her cloak over one of the chairs and went to the fire to warm her hands. She turned as the door opened and a heavily pregnant young woman entered, carrying a tray. She walked slowly, holding the tray well out in front to avoid her extended belly. Susannah straightened immediately.

‘Jane, let me take that, you should not be waiting upon me—’

‘Thank you, but I can manage perfectly well. And it is a pleasure to bring your wine for you.’

Susannah sat down, recognising that to insist upon taking the tray would hurt the girl’s pride. ‘Thank you, Jane, that is very kind of you.’ She watched her place the tray carefully on a side table. ‘When is the baby due?’

‘The midwife thinks it won’t be for a week or two yet.’ Jane smiled and rubbed her hands against her swollen stomach. ‘It cannot come soon enough for me now, Miss Prentess.’

‘Call me Susannah, please. There is small difference in our stations.’

Jane’s smile disappeared.

‘Perhaps there was not, at one time, but now—’ She looked down at her body. ‘I am a fallen woman.’

‘I will not have that term used here,’ Susannah replied fiercely. ‘You have been unfortunate. ’Tis the same for all the ladies we bring in.’

‘And if it was not for your kindness we would be even more unfortunate,’ replied Jane. ‘We would have to go to Walcot Street, and we would not be called ladies

there,’ she added drily.

‘Will you not sit down?’ Susannah indicated a chair, but Jane shook her head.

‘If you will excuse me, I will go back to my room now and rest. The midwife might say this little one isn’t ready to be born, but it seems pretty impatient to me.’

‘She is a dear girl,’ said Mrs Gifford, when Jane had gone. ‘Her stitching is so neat that Odesse says she will be happy to take her on, once the babe is born.’

‘Good.’ Susannah sipped at her wine. ‘Since we have a little time perhaps you would like to give me your report now, rather than wait until after I have spoken to Mr Tyler.’

Mrs Gifford sat down and folded her hands in her lap.

‘I have had to move everything out of the east wing because the chimney is unsafe and we fear it might come crashing through the roof if we have a storm. Then there is the leak on the south gable, which is getting worse. But this section of the house is reasonably sound, and I have been able to find dry bedchambers for each of our guests. Miss Anstruther—Violet—is settling in well, although she is still very despondent and keeps to her room.’

‘That is to be expected, having been cast off by her family,’ replied Susannah. ‘I will go up to her later, if she will see me.’

‘If?’ uttered Mrs Gifford. ‘Of course she will see you. ’Tis you who made it possible for her to be looked after. She has much cause to be grateful to you, as do all the others...’

Susannah shook her head.

‘I will not trade on their gratitude,’ she said quietly. ‘Everyone here is a guest, and I want to treat them with the same respect I would