What the blazes were they to do now?
Well, Julian did have an estate that needed his attention, and a child, but all he knew was the Home Office.
“When you were first recruited by the Home Office, it was acknowledged that such a position would prevent you from establishing yourself in a profession that could benefit you for the remainder of your life,” Lady Esther Tilson began to explain. “Therefore, a pension was established for each of you in the event that your services were no longer needed.”
“As in now,” Raphael Clark clarified.
“Well, yes,” Lady Esther answered.
“In order to receive that pension, which is thirty thousand pounds each, you have but one mission to complete,” said Lady Priscilla.
That was a sizeable amount, not that Julian needed more wealth.
“What is the mission?” Michael Darton asked.
“Remain at this house party until one of us gives you permission to leave,” Lady Priscilla answered.
“A house party. That is all?” Julian asked.
“You also must do as we request.” Lady Joanna smiled. “Failure to do so on your part will see your pension lost.”
“This is not going to be an ordinary house party, is it?” Pickmore grumbled with suspicion.
“Of course not.” Lady Esther laughed. “Why would you ever expect it to be if we are here?”
Caitlin sether morning tea beside her breakfast plate and glanced out the window from her chamber in Hatley Park. It was so strange that she was even here. In any normal circumstances, Cait would not mind visiting Bath. But, she and her fellow teacher, Miss Bernadette Hamilton did not even know their hostess. Had Mrs. Wiggons, their employer, not insisted, neither one of them would be here.
They had arrived last evening, as instructed, then been sent directly to their chambers where a supper tray was delivered. A breakfast tray had then arrived this morning and Cait had wondered if this visit was to be spent in their chambers until she was told that Lady Hartfell would like her guests to gather in the drawing room at precisely noon.
This was all very odd.
“May I suggest a light blue, miss?” the maid offered. “It is a lovely dress and goes well with your complexion.”
Cait was nearly startled at the young woman’s voice. It had been so long since she’d had the assistance of a maid and wasn’t used to one being in the room with her. When she was much younger, before her father died, Cait could not have imagined getting on without the assistance of a maid, but she had learned quickly enough how to arrange her hair, and purchased clothing that did not require assistance to wear.
She glanced at the day dress the maid held. Cait supposed it would do as well as any. She did not have a wardrobe for a house party. She had the wardrobe a teacher would wear. They were all the same and they were serviceable. The only thing that made them fashionable was they were cut to today's fashion.
“Very well I will wear that one.”
“Then let me brush and style your hair and then we shall dress, and I will take you down.”
It was nice to be pampered for a change. Cait had forgotten what it was like to sit at the dressing table before a mirror while someone with talented hands tamed her hair into curls and lifted it away from her face and braided tiny strands to the loop towards the back. It was something Caitlin had never been able to manage to do on her own. Now she had curls and braids and nearly did not recognize herself.
“Thank you, Betsy, I like very much what you've done.” The maid nodded as a blush stained her cheeks just as a clock chimed somewhere down the corridor.
“It is time to go down.”
Instead of being led down the main stairs, the maid directed her down the backstairs, which she assumed were for servants.
Was it because she was a teacher and not a lady? If that were the case, why had she been invited to begin with?
Perhaps Lady Hartfell was an eccentric. Cait then wondered if any of the oddities mattered. She had enjoyed last evening alone in her chamber. The room was large and comfortable, and it was nice to read and relax without interruption from silly girls with wild imaginations. There had been no need to plan lessons for the following day, nor fear waking too late. In fact, she had slept longer than she ever had since leaving Ireland, which had been over ten years ago, and woke refreshed. So, did it really matter if she took the backstairs to tea?
No, it did not.
Bernadette left her room and joined Caitlin and the maid that was with Bernadette bobbed and turned in the opposite direction.
“Why the backstairs?” Bernadette asked.
