“The lack of servants these days is dire,” he continued smoothly. “Particularly maids are in high demand. Especially in the better households. Interested?”
Pippa huffed. Then she pushed her chair back with a creak as the legs scraped the wooden floor and got up.
“You mean to sell me to a bawdy house. No, thank you. I’d rather you clap me in your bottomless pit.”
The man blinked. “Bawdy house?” Then he pulled himself up stiffly. “I see you’re labouring under a grave misapprehension. Do sit again, Fräulein, and let’s discuss this.”
“There is nothing to discuss—” Pippa began, but the man snapped, “Sit!” and she plopped back into her chair.
Because, really, what other choice did she have?
The man glared at her. “Who, exactly do you think I am?”
She eyed him with suspicion. “I don’t know. Who exactly are you?”
“The name is August,” the man snapped. “And I am one of the most respected and hardworking men in this entire department. In fact,” he puffed out his chest with pride, “I have been awarded by Baron von Hager, personally, a medallion of distinction.” Von Hager was the head of the police department. August pointed at the wall. Indeed, there was a medal hanging from the wall, framed. “We are aware that innocent young ladies are lured into indiscreet professions against their will, and believe me, no one is as fastidiously working to eliminate this evil from the world than me.”
It looked like she had hit him painfully with her accusation. Come to think of it, it was a long stretch, indeed, to accuse the police force itself of selling women into slavery. A twinge of remorse shot through her. But still, Pippa trusted no one, only herself.
“How do I know you are speaking the truth and the offer is an honest, valid one?”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “You don’t. If my name and my honour won’t convince you, nothing will, and we might as well save each other’s time and end this interview at once, and I will escort you to gaol, where you wait until your identity can be verified.”
He half rose, and Pippa blurted, “No, no—do sit and tell me more about that position!”
He sat again, still affronted. “Like I said,” he said stiffly, “it is for the position of a maid.”
Assuming he spoke the truth, and it was a real job offer, she, too, had heard that the need for domestics these days was dire. But...servitude?
Her father had been a renowned scholar and professor. True, they hadn’t lived in wealth and glamour, but she wasn’t nobody, either. She’d lived with her father in a house with their own staff, a cook, maid and footman. She’d loved rambling about the mountain meadows and forests in trousers, and she’d been known as Professor Cranwell’s wild girl, until she had donned skirts and become a lady. And under her father’s tutelage, she’d received an excellent education.
To accept August’s offer meant forgetting her heritage. To climb down the social ladder and become a servant.
“You would be given legal papers, of course. An identity. You know that without papers you can’t do anything in this country. Regular income. A roof over your head.” He lifted a hand. “Have you thought where you will sleep tonight? Make up your mind. Otherwise you willhave to wait here in gaol until someone can provide proof of your identity.” He narrowed his eyes. “That intended husband of yours, for example. But alas, he’s disappeared?”
She was in a fix.
Her mind raced. Here this police agent was offering her a position. It appeared to be genuine. It wasn’t what she’d normally choose for herself, and it hurt her pride. But she should grab it with two hands. Papers, income, a roof over one’s head. She needed security first. Then she could look for Klemens. If they locked her up, how could she look for Klemens?
Her shoulders slumped. “Where is the position?”
He drew the feather of the pen between his fingers. “I will tell you only after you’ve accepted it.”
Again, suspicion rose within her. Everything in her told her not to trust the man. But what should she do? What other options did she have?
None.
She had no choice, really. She took a big breath. “Very well.” She gave a curt nod. “I’ll do it.”
He folded his hands across the document and leaned forward. “Of course, this position comes with some conditions.”
“Conditions? What conditions?”
“This is a position that most servants would die for. Quite literally, too.” He smirked. “You will be rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty.”
The high and mighty?
“Ambassadors, dukes, princes and monarchs from Europe. The entire gamut will be flockingto our illustrious city within the next few weeks. They all will be within your reach.”
