“Oh, m’lady!”The maid started gathering up the fallen locks, then gazed at Tessa in dismay, her hands full of hair, for all the world as if she thought Tessa could put it back on her head.
Tessa laughed.“Take it away and burn it.”
“Oh m’lady,” the girl said dolefully, but she left the room, clutching handfuls of hair.
Tessa kept snipping until finally not a single long strand remained.She looked at her reflection and laughed.She looked like a scarecrow, her hair short, but all different lengths and sticking out in all directions.She ran her fingers through it and laughed again.Perfect!No man would want to marry her now.
A knock sounded on her door, and without waiting for her response the door opened, and Lady Gosforth stood there.She lifted her lorgnette.There was a long moment of absolute silence, then, “Good gad!What have you done to yourself, gel?”
Tessa stood slowly and shook her hair again.A few remnants of long blonde hair slithered from her shoulders to the floor.She faced the old lady defiantly.“I never liked it long.”
“You look like a hedgehog!”the old lady said acidly.
“I like hedgehogs.”
There was another long silence as the old lady glared at Tessa through her lorgnette and Tessa stared back.She would not be intimidated.Besides, what could anyone do?Her hair was gone.It was too late now.
Eventually Lady Gosforth turned and stalked away without another word.
A few minutes later, another knock on the door sounded.This time it was Bragge, Lady Gosforth’s dresser.She gazed at Tessa, her hands clasped.“Oh, m’lady, your beautiful, beautiful hair.”
“I wanted a change.”
Bragge took a deep breath.“Yes, m’lady.Now, if you’d sit down here, I’ll just neaten it a little.”
Tessa thought of refusing, but then Bragge added in a low voice, “Her ladyship’s instructions.”
Knowing Bragge would get into trouble if she refused, Tessa sat.What did it matter if she were tidied up?She’d never have to brush her long hair again.In one fell swoop—well, with lots of little snips—she’d banished the reminder of both her husbands handling it in that disturbing manner.She laughed again, thinking of it.She felt so much lighter and happier already.
“There you are, m’lady, that’s better.”
Tessa looked in the mirror and blinked.She didn’t look like a scruffy hedgehog anymore; she looked like a ...pixie?An elf?Tiny curls clustered around her head, framing her face in a way that was disconcertingly ...pretty.
“Oh, Bragge, what have you done?”she whispered.
Bragge seemed pleased.“Luckily short hair is very muchà la mode, m’lady.You look quite dashing.”
“Dashing?”Tessa echoed dolefully.
“Yes, very.Lady Gosforth will be delighted.”
Tessa sighed.“Thank you, Bragge.”
#
THE NEXT MORNING TESSAwent out job hunting again, a dowdy hat crammed over her head.She would never have cut her hair if she’d known it would make her look up-to-the-minute-fashionable.She’d intended to look plain and unassuming.
She left by the kitchen door, taking Billy with her.She didn’t want to leave him alone all day, and he was used to the streets.Besides he was good company.
She was visiting the agencies lower down Peverill’s list, this time with higher hopes.But even though she now had a better story to tell, and a glowing reference from herself as Lady Holgrave to present, things went, if anything, even worse than the day before.
In the first interview, after waiting for forty minutes, the two women in charge took one look at her and dismissed her, saying, “We are an exclusive agency, Miss Blaxland,”—she’d decided to use her maiden name—“and our clientele is very select.You are not suited to our needs.”They didn’t even want to see her character reference.Even though it was from a baroness.
The final straw came when she’d stepped into the manager’s office of second last agency on her list.She’d had to wait over an hour to be interviewed but when she was finally admitted to the interviewer’s office she was made to wait again.
The well-dressed woman behind the big desk didn’t even look up when Tessa entered.She wrote in a ledger, checked a file, took a sip of the tea at her elbow and grimaced, muttering, “Cold,” before she even looked up to see Tessa standing there.Her eyes swept Tessa from head to foot.“Yes?”she said in an arctic voice.
Tessa explained that she was recently widowed and was looking for a position, perhaps as a companion or some such.She offered the woman her reference, but the woman ignored it.She looked Tessa up and down again, then gave a scornful snort.“Covent Garden fare, that’s what you are, missy,” she said, dropping her faux genteel accent.“Go on, get out of here.We’re a respectable agency, we are, and we don’t want nothing to do with the likes of you and your kind.”
