dark red wool respectively, with high-rucked collars and long sleeves fitted at the wrist. They each wore mob caps. A few gray ringlets traced Jane’s temples. Her face was long and tapered to a pointed chin.
They didn’t resemble sisters so much as a fox and a bear in dresses.
Delilah felt protective of them almost at once.
“We saw your leaflet, you see, advertising your boardinghouse. We lost our previous rooms in London, you see, to a fire. We’ve a small income and wish to spend it comfortably, near the sea air and the liveliness of London, and this place sounded hospitable and comfortable. And it seems so.”
It was like listening to a frail, whispery woodwind. As though Jane Gardner had been shouted at all of her life to stay quiet.
“Oh, it is indeed.” Delilah found herself accidentally speaking loudly to compensate. She cleared her throat and adjusted her volume. “Particularly for women. Our guests are family here. We, in fact, ask all of our tenants to join us in the drawing room at least four nights a week, so that we all might come to know each other better. And gentlemen will be required to put a pence in a jar if they curse. We feel it was a playful way to keep things civilized. It’s one of the requirements for staying here. We’ve rules, you see.”
They had indeed. They had printed them on little cards, which were stacked on the table behind them. “We’ve even printed them, if you’d like to review them.”
Margaret and Jane exchanged a swift look.
Margaret looked disconsolately down at her hands, which were squeezed into gloves that looked a little too small, and which were folded in her lap tightly.
“Oh, we trust that your rules are fair. But Margaret is so very shy, you see, it would be a bit of a torment for her to be surrounded by . . . er, gaiety. Where she might be expected to speak.”
“Very shy,” Margaret confided in a sad whisper. To her lap.
“How do you feel about gaiety, Miss Jane?” Angelique asked.
“Oh, I don’t suppose I remember, it’s been so long now.” She laughed timidly behind her knuckles.
“Well, perhaps she can just sit quietly with all of us in the drawing room and we can enjoy her presence,” Delilah suggested. “And you may yet rediscover an appreciation for gaiety, when you hear the pianoforte played well. We are planning to hold musicales.”
She ignored the dry look sent her way by Angelique.
Margaret’s head shot up briefly and Delilah got a glimpse of the whites of them, flared in alarm.
“Perhaps she’ll feel free to come out of her shell when she sees that we are all friends here, and we will not tolerate anyone making fun of her whistle. We will all be patient,” Delilah continued. Sweetly but firmly.
“You’ve come to a welcoming place for women to live,” Angelique soothed. “We will have male guests, too, but they will be held to a strict and gentlemanly code of conduct. And that also means no sneaking gentleman callers up to your rooms.”
Delilah shot Angelique a reproving look.
But Miss Margaret giggled softly behind her fingers. Her gloves were kid, and fine. It was rather touching to see that she had indulged herself in at least one elegant thing.
“It all sounds lovely. We should like to share your largest room, on a low floor.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but our largest room suitable for two people has just been let.”
The sisters went absolutely still.
They appeared paralyzed by disappointment.
The mutual faint creaking of stays signaled the resumption of their ribcages moving in and out with breathing.
“We’re so sorry to disappoint you,” Delilah said warmly. “We’d be happy to show you our second-largest room, which we will make just as comfortable for you. You will be nice and snug. It’s on the floor above.”
The silence was oddly protracted.
“Very well.” Jane sounded a bit martyred.
“We’ll do everything possible to make sure you’re happy here at The Grand Palace on the Thames,” Delilah soothed.
“Oh, we’re certain you will, dear.” She smiled.
Delilah and angelique decided that since they had three guests now—one invisible, two visible—serving something fancy involving beef would be a splendid way to celebrate. Helga and Angelique set out to see if they could get a roast, happily squabbling about the price of it and the inventive ways they could stretch the meat throughout the week.
Delilah fondly saw them off.
In the spare moment here and there it occurred to her how odd it was that