Several leaves fell to the ground. She looked up to thank the stranger, but he had turned around and was walking deeper into the side garden. Sighing, she straightened her back. Her posture was normally quite good—it had been drilled into her since she was a child. He had just caught her at a bad time.
When she reached the door, she raised her arm to knock and noticed the red lines striping her hands. The tear at her shoulder was jagged, and she hurried to tuck the material back into her dress, hoping it wouldn’t be noticeable at first glance. Who placed bushes so close to the side of the house that the servants couldn’t even get to them without injuring themselves?
Apparently General Woodsworth did. Was this part of the reason Nicholas felt she had been coddled? Because she never had cause to traipse through bushes riddled with thorns?
She pressed her lips together. It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t seen much beyond the borders of their drawing room in London. She hadn’t been presented to society, and other than at church and lessons, she didn’t have much contact with the outside world. Not everyone could join the army like her older brother had.
Not everyone could serve under the prestigious General Woodsworth.
She wrinkled her nose, even though Nicholas wasn’t here to see it. He was going to have to eat his words when she handed him a letter of recommendation from General Woodsworth. She just had to get hired.
She knocked and waited. Shuffling announced that someone was on the other side. She pulled at her dress once again, then tried rubbing some of the red stripes on her hands to calm them down.
She was licking her thumb, about to run it down one of the long streaks, when the door opened.
Patience froze, her thumb still near her mouth.
A woman in a cap stood expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Patience pulled her thumb away from her mouth and tried to mimic Nicholas’s serious expression. She eyed the keys around the woman’s waist. The housekeeper, perfect. What had the man called her? Mrs. Bates? She was the one to ask about work. But how did one go about asking for work? Patience had never done it before. She hadn’t even assisted with the hiring of help.
“I’m here for a position.”
“We aren’t hiring.” The stout housekeeper closed the door.
Patience was left standing there, her nose just inches from the door. What had she expected? For the housekeeper to welcome her with open arms? Her clothing was on its way to Bath. Mama wasn’t expecting her home. Those had seemed the impossible parts of her plans. She hadn’t considered what she would do if she wasn’t hired.
Patience took a deep breath. She only had one more shot at this. The housekeeper might open the door a second time, but she most certainly wouldn’t a third.
She knocked again, this time more forcefully.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Grunts of complaint came from the other side of the door, but it opened.
“I said we aren’t hiring.” The housekeeper started closing the door once again.
“No, you don’t understand.” She needed this chance, and General Woodsworth’s household was the only one that would do. She placed her hand just above that of Mrs. Bates on the opposite side of the door. “My brother served with General Woodsworth. He assured me he was the best of men, that he would do anything and everything to help someone in need, especially one of his men. My brother thought he would want to give me work since I am in need of it.”
“Lots are in need of work.” Mrs. Bates glared at Patience’s hand, but she dropped her own. “And lots of men have served under the general. Can you imagine how many men and women we would have in our employ if that was all it took to get a position here? We would have thousands of maids. I do feel sorry, miss, but you will have to find some other place to take you in for your four shillings a week.”
Some other place? And four shillings a week? It was nothing. Surely hiring one more maid wouldn’t be any trouble for General Woodsworth. Oh, this was ridiculous. If a person wanted to clean out fireplaces or help ladies get dressed, it seemed like someone would let them.
Mrs. Bates placed her hand back on the door, and as it started to swing shut, Patience stepped forward and halfway into the