Page 24 of Trouble

‘I will draw, but I will not back down on the good mood,’ Grace said. ‘Youlikeme! You like explainingloomsto me!’

‘Believe me, I derive no joy from realising the depths of your ignorance,’ said Emily, but Grace just laughed.

It was not agood mood. It was simply the ebbing of nerves as she settled into the house, and the knowledge that she had found a way out of it. If she was relieved that Grace had come through her spell of illness relatively quickly and without seeming too worse for wear, it was only because anything else would have complicated her life further.

Emily brought over a vase of flowers to be used as the subject of a still life, and then sat enjoying the quiet as her charge bent industriously over her etching. The flames were crackling gently in the grate as Grace scratched softly away with her charcoal, all sound in the room muffled by the thick rugs and the cheerful tapestry on the wall. There was even a blanket draped over the arm of Emily’s chair that she could pull over herself if she was feeling truly decadent.

It was such a luxury, just to sit near a fire in a well-appointed room, warm enough and well fed, that in her weakest moments Emily could almost imagine herself accustomed to it – until she thought of Amy at home, probably this minute a little hungry and a little cold, and felt disgusted with herself for entertaining the idea.

When lessons concluded for the day and Grace was sent off to prepare for dinner, Meera apologetically asked Emily to sit with Akia in the servants’ dining room and polish silver. They carried boxes and boxes of it down and Akia started methodically taking it all out and making little symmetrical piles, humming softly as she did.

It would have been all too easy to slip something into her pocket when Akia turned away, but Emily was determined not to let her rashness get her into any more trouble – and besides, she could not tell the difference between a mediocre spoon and a spoon of merit.

‘As you may have gathered, Mr Khan the grocer is madly in love with Meera,’ Akia said to Emily, who hadn’t asked. ‘He delivers her thingspersonally. But she thinks herself far too sensible for love. I once told her a man had given me a flower, and she said “what for?”, I told him that all he needs to do is explain to her that it makesbusiness sensefor them to get married, and she’ll agree to terms and sign on the dotted line. He’s too much of a romantic, though. He thinks he can woo her. She’s unwooable.’

‘Mmmm,’ Emily said, as she polished a knife with climbing roses wrapped around the handle.

‘Speaking of spectator sports, Mrs Spencer is coming to the dinner party. Oliver and I have a bet running that pertains to her.’

‘Who’s Mrs Spencer?’ said Emily, falling for the bait.

Akia looked slightly triumphant. ‘The future Mrs Captain Edwards, by my wager. She’s an heiress, and a widow. And Captain Edwards is in need of an heiress. Apparently he and the late Mrs Edwards married for love, but there is to be no more of that sort of nonsense under this roof.’

Emily didn’t scoff, but she wanted to. An enormous house, a governess and four servants hardly seemed like dire financial straits.

‘I mean it. This used to be a grand house. Fully staffed. The captain has sold half the furniture in the past few years. Sometimes I go to sit down, forgetting, and I just keep going until I hit the floor.’

It wasn’t as if Emily hadn’t noticed the absence of furniture, but she was still curious.

‘Why is he selling it?’

Akia put down the cutlery and slid a silver serving dish into polishing range.

‘He had a moderate inheritance, but he really made something of himself in the navy. He wasn’t supposed to come home so soon. Should have had a few more promotions under his belt before he ran aground.’

‘Then why would Mrs Spencer marry him?’ asked Emily.

Akia laughed. ‘Maybe she likes tall, broad, sea-worn widowers. Orpapas. Have you seen him without his shirt on?’

‘No,’ said Emily, horrified by all of the above.

‘Ah,’ said Akia, nodding sagely. ‘It will all make sense when you do.’

Emily strongly doubted this, and was quite disturbed by the direction this conversation had taken. It had already been obvious that the servants of Fairmont House did not have as many boundaries as one might expect when it came to their relationship with their employer, but discussions ofshirtlessnesswere beyond anything she could have imagined. She didn’t want to think of Captain Edwards as a real person at all, and certainly not about what might be underneath hisshirt.

‘What happened?’ Emily said, trying to move past this. ‘With the navy, I mean? Why did he come home early?’

‘Maybe he realised that once you’ve seen one wave, you’ve seen them all,’ Akia said lightly, but Emily was not fooled: she knew more than she was letting on.

‘It wasn’t because of Grace’s illness, then?’

Akia shrugged. ‘Perhaps. It’s not really for me to say.’

‘He barely seems to notice that hehaschildren,’ Emily said.

Akia stopped polishing and frowned at her. ‘I cannot agree with you there,’ she said. ‘There is nothing on this earth that Captain Edwards cares more about than those girls.’

Emily thought of him hiding in the shadows of his own stairwell, fleeing the scene rather than comforting his younger daughter in her time of need, and then picked up another knife, secure and unshakeable in the knowledge that no matter if Akia had been there longer, she was wrong and Emily was right.