“Where is Mr. Braithwaite?” I asked.
My aunt smiled at me and patted my cheek as she turned to leave the ballroom, rapier propped over one shoulder.
“Don’t frown, dear, it causes wrinkles. There’s no cause for concern. Mr. Braithwaite is simply not up to the position.
“After all, unless you’ve forgotten, you went through three tutors before we found the right one for both you and Lenore.” She turned to Lily.
“Come along, dear girl. There is just enough time to change before supper. You will stay over, Mikaela?” she said almost as an afterthought.
“Oh, yes!” Lily added to the invitation. “I want to hear all about yer new case!”
I had not thought to stay over as my former bedchamber had been confiscated for Lily’s use. Not that I objected.
As much as I was fond of my housekeeper, for some reason the thought of returning alone to the townhouse was not appealing. And I did want to spend time with Lily even though my aunt had more or less taken her under her wing.
“Of course.”
Lily grinned from ear to ear. “And Mr. Brodie as well?”
“I will ring him up,” I replied as she raced off toward the stairs.
My sister sailed into the room, perfectly groomed, hair neatly twisted and pinned into place.
“I fear Mr. Braithwaite will never be the same,” she commented. “In some ways I felt sorry for the poor man. I don’t believe he had ever encountered such a challenge before.”
Challenge. That was an interesting word vaguely familiar from my own experience with tutors.
“He declared that Lily is too outspoken, speaks like a guttersnipe, and lacks the most basic of manners, as he fled quite white around the mouth, as your Mr. Brodie would say. He doubts that there’s anything that can be done with her,” Linnie added. She looked up at me as if another thought had just come to her.
“Do not say it,” I warned her.
Her smile deepened. “You cannot help but notice the similarity.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But of course, I did.
“I knew there would be… a period of adjustment,” I continued. “Things are quite different here compared to how she lived in Edinburgh.”
“I am not certain there is that much adjustment in the world,” Linnie declared as we left the ballroom with its fresh nicks and cuts on the wainscoting, and went into the parlor.
“She is very clever,” I admitted. “She managed quite well before in a very…” I searched for the right description. “A thriving business environment.”
“I believe you are referring to the brothel,” Linnie pointed out as she crossed the room and went to the sideboard that contained glasses and a bottle of wine.
Lily had obviously shared some of her adventures with my sister.
“You have to admit that she is completely out of her element. Have you considered that you may have done her a disfavor?” she asked.
“I considered her chances for survival where she was,” I replied with my usual bluntness. “What might the next ten years of her life be like there, or on the streets? And in twenty years, if she lived that long? It is certainly more of a chance than our father gave us.”
I caught my sister’s sudden change of expression, the sadness there.
I had not meant to bring up unpleasant memories in mentioning our precarious beginning before our aunt took us under her wing.
It was only that I had experienced and remembered far more of that sad beginning of our lives than Linnie. She was younger and I had always tried to protect her from the harsh reality of our father’s gambling, the debts, and the other women.
However, to be perfectly honest, Lily did remind me of me.
She was adventuresome, curious, more than a little rebellious, and she was a survivor. And if I could help along the way…
