After eating, I carry the plates to the kitchen, still trying to find answers. A pile of dirty dishes sits in the sink. Mrs. Fairfax must have left this morning with Adele in a hurry.
And there’s something new on the counter by the spice rack. A torn piece of paper, ragged along one edgelike it was ripped from a notebook. It’s set square to the counter, as if someone measured it with a ruler.
I approach it with a frown.
The handwriting is cramped, irregular, like the writer was in a bad temper. At the top is the name I’m using: Annalisa Burlington.
And beneath that, a list:
Gather fresh eggs – beware of the rooster
Prepare stew base with rabbit in cooler (debone completely)
Polish west-facing windows (ladder in garden shed)
Oil all door hinges (start with guest quarters)
Boil linens – use cellar basin
Change guest linens on first floor
Sweep and mop grand foyer
Arrange flowers in main hall
Wipe down portrait frames
Scrub guest room fireplaces (check for nests)
Beat dust from hallway and guest room rugs (use line behind house)
The list keeps going with a string of empty checkboxes next to each item. It’s detailed, deliberate, like someone’s been planning these tasks for weeks.
My jaw drops. “Didn’t know I was being hired as a housemaid.”
This isn’t the light household help Mr. Rochester made it sound like over breakfast. This is full-scale domestic drudgery. Scrubbing fireplaces? Deboning rabbits? What’s next, mucking out stables?
I have no idea how to prepare rabbit. I’ve never seen a cellar basin in my life. And who warns someone about a rooster like it’s a guard dog?
But what choice do I have?
I fold the paper and shove it in my pocket. Looks like I’m getting housebroken.
SIXTEEN
THE KEYHOLE
I saw the hope die in your eyes this morning. You thought breakfast was your chance to become the lady of Rochester Manor.
It was not.
However, my plans for you are proceeding nicely.
I enjoy the way your breasts jiggle when you’re on your hands and knees, scrubbing the floors. I can almost taste the sweat seeping through that delightfully restrictive dress.
You’re learning humility so you can truly belong to me.
Keep toiling, sweet girl. Teach your body where it belongs. Keep earning your survival lest you end up like the others.
