Mina soon found that she was right about that. She’d risen early enough to find the servants still at breakfast, and all of them—four maids, a butler, a groom, and a gray-haired couple who were probably the valet and housekeeper Alice had mentioned—turned to look when she entered the room.
The older woman got to her feet. “You’d be his lordship’s new secretary, then,” she said in a much broader Scottish accent than MacAlasdair’s. “I’m Mrs. Baldwin, the housekeeper here. You’ve met Polly. That’s Lizzie next to her and Sarah, and the wee one next to her is Emily, and James and Owens and Mr. Baldwin on the other side. And Mrs. Hennings upstairs, poor woman, and that’s all of us under this roof.” She smiled and spoke readily. It could have been friendliness; it could have been duty.
Mina gave the most polished smile she could manage in return. “Miss Seymour,” she said. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” said Emily, who was “wee” indeed—no more than fifteen, by the look of her—and thus probably from the scullery. The others produced a variety of nods and smiles, pleasant and careful and distant.
“Have yourself a seat and a bit of a breakfast,” said Mrs. Baldwin, “and then his lordship will see you in the drawing room. Polly will show you how to get there.”
Breakfast was porridge, bacon, eggs, and scones, as well as very strong hot tea. It was also largely silent. Mrs. Baldwin observed that the weather was likely to be fine, James mentioned needing to have the blacksmith in one of these days, and Mina asked if the Baldwins had come up from Scotland with Lord MacAlasdair. Yes, they had; no, the trip hadn’t been very difficult. That was nice.
Mina wanted to ask about Scotland, about how long the train journey had taken and what it had been like, about Lord MacAlasdair’s horses and how the maids were finding the house. Miss Seymour, who had to keep the distance becoming to his lordship’s secretary, sipped her tea, made polite inquiries about Mrs. Hennings’s health—she was recovering nicely, it was really a bit of bad luck for her to have slipped on the staircase as she’d done, and clearly the story about the robbers hadn’t gotten out—and excused herself as soon as she’d eaten sufficient food to see her through the next few hours.
MacAlasdair’s house was rather handsome, now that she saw it in the daytime and without supernatural pursuit. However, it was still a rather intimidating place. The walls were mostly dark, with plenty of mirrors and gilded picture frames, and the furniture tended to be dark as well, not to mention rather massive.
Portraits were abundant. Mina saw an icily blonde woman with a ruff and a lapdog, a pair of bright-eyed children posed in front of a bay window, and a succession of men who looked more or less like MacAlasdair in clothing of various decades and centuries. She didn’tthinkthey were all MacAlasdair himself—he hadn’t owned the house for very long, and scattering such pictures around the place would have been arrogant even for him—but, combined with the knowledge of his longevity, they still gave her a chill.
She lagged a little behind Polly as she walked, looking around, and so she gave a little start when the other woman said her name.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Come in,” said MacAlasdair, from the room beyond an open door, and embarrassment swept over Mina. The maid had been announcing her. She should have known, and now she looked like a complete fool.
She drew a deep breath and stepped into the drawing room. MacAlasdair was lounging in one of the chairs by the fire, folding the day’s paper in a leisurely manner, his long legs stretched out before him. He stood up and looked her over slowly, as if confirming her reality and the fact that he’d have to deal with her.
“Good morning, sir,” she said, with as much cool politeness as she’d ever used for three short words.
There was equal caution in the golden eyes that met hers, but Lord MacAlasdair spoke more smoothly. “And a good morning to you as well, Miss Seymour. You may go, Polly.” As the maid left, he indicated one of the chairs. “Have a seat. You seem to be well enough.”
“One adjusts,” said Mina, which she supposed was the truth. Her lack of hysterics had surprisedhera little. She was glad that he probably didn’t know anything about the light in her room. “Besides, if those things come back, I’d guess I wouldn’t be the first they’d go after. Not from what you said.”
“You wouldn’t,” said MacAlasdair, “and they’ll not. Not for a few weeks yet. You canna’ summon manes save in the dark of the moon, and that’s past. Now that I’ve sent them back where they come from, Ward will have to wait a fair bit to playthattrick again—though I’m sure he can lay his hands on other tools.”
“Nothing like starting your day with a bit of good cheer, I suppose,” said Mina.
“I’ll take what cheer I can,” said MacAlasdair. “Especially if it means not having manes tearing through my house. You can have your breakfast with me from now on,” he added. “It would be sensible for me to give a secretary the day’s instructions then.”
It wasn’t a gracious offer, and the first response that rose to Mina’s lips was a stiffIknowmyplace, sir, thank you all the same. But she checked it, remembering the stares and the stilted conversation over breakfast. Shedidn’tknow her place, not in this house. Or rather, her place was betwixt and between in a way it had never been with Professor Carter, who had only the one housekeeper and ate in his study without looking up from his latest book more often than not. Here, MacAlasdair at least knew her real situation better than the servants.
He was trying, too. And it wasn’t as if their circumstances were entirely his fault.
“I’d be glad to,” said Mina. “Will you actually have instructions for me?”
“Perhaps,” said MacAlasdair, startled. “Nothing immediate comes to mind. I’m in the habit of handling my affairs personally.”
Thatwas possibly the least surprising thing Mina had seen or heard since she’d crossed MacAlasdair’s threshold. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying as much.
“Today,” MacAlasdair continued, “we’ll go and retrieve whatever belongings you need. Whenever you’re ready: my own plans are far from set.”
It took a moment for Mina to realize what he was saying. When she did, she couldn’t help laughing. “Wewon’t do any such thing, thank you.”
MacAlasdair raised dark eyebrows. “Pardon?”
“I live in a lodging house, my lord. Afemalelodging house.”
“Ah. And they won’t—”
“Not hardly,” Mina said. “No men. Not even wealthy men with titles. Maybeespeciallynotwealthy men with titles,” she added, and saw MacAlasdair look away. Ha.
