Tess snapped her gaze to her employer’s. “Your ladyship? You’re dismissing me?”
“I shall pay you the whole sum we agreed upon,” she said as if Tess should be grateful for her magnanimity. “My uncle’s friendship with your father demands that at least. But yes, I appreciate what you’ve done so far, but I think I prefer to have Mr. Prince here to finish the task.”
It was on the tip of Tess’s tongue to tell the countess that he’d done nothing like what she had done. She had been organizing the collection, as she’d been asked to do. He’d been throwing books on the floor, for heaven’s sake.
But if six and twenty years of life had taught Tess anything, it was that some battles weren’t worth fighting. The determined set of Lady Goddard’s jaw told her that this wasn’t one she’d win, even if she tried.
“Very well, my lady. I shall finish up and—”
“Yes, do, Miss Hawthorne. Then collect your things and see Newby, who’ll provide you with the amount we agreed upon.” She nodded as if quite pleased with her decision. Then she swept from the room, the beaded fringe of her day dress rustling as she went.
Tess bit her lip and fought the frustrated tears that threatened to fall. She’d never been dismissed from employment in her life. And she’d done nothing to deserve it now.
But then relief swept in too. She wasn’t losing out on the much-needed wages that had drawn her to London and this opportunity in the first place, and she had been missing home. Whenever she was away too long, she began to worry about what Tristan might be getting up to. Her twin seemed to stumble into trouble effortlessly.
After penning a note regarding what she’d done, what she thought still needed to be completed, and Mr. Prince’s recommendations, Tess collected her satchel and then took one last look at the library and all the items Lady Goddard’s uncle had collected over a lifetime. She hoped that wherever the books and pieces ended up, they’d be treasured.
Then she strode into the hall to find Newby waiting for her.
“Wishing you the very best, Miss Hawthorne,” the butler told her as he handed her an envelope with her wages inside. “It will be odd not to greet you tomorrow.”
Tess smiled. “I was thinking the same, Mr. Newby.”
Once she was out on the pavement, and Newby had closed the door behind her, Tess calculated how long it would take to return to the boarding house, pack the few items she’d brought with her to London, and catch the train headed north. Habit caused her to lift her grandfather’s pocket watch to check the time.
It was still stuck where it had been on her omnibus ride. Apparently, it had been a portent of bad tidings after all.
Tess secured a ticket and made the journey in time to step into Foxdene, her family’s cottage, just as the orange wisps of sunset began to sweep across the horizon.
“Oh, dear Tess, you gave me a fright, you did.” Mrs. Wells, the family’s longtime housekeeper, cook, and staunchest defender, paused a moment, eyes wide, before bustling forward and giving Tess a warm hug. “We’d all expected you to be in London at least a fortnight longer.”
“As did I.” Tess drew in a breath and smiled at the familiar scents of fresh baked bread, roasting vegetables, and the lavender Mrs. Wells always favored for the ointment she made herself and claimed cured all sorts of ailments. “But I’m glad to be home early.”
With a warm hand on Tess’s cheek, Mrs. Wells assessed her, both silver brows arched. “Always pleased to see you, dear girl, but you’re not unwell, are you?”
“Not a bit. I simply... finished my work for Lady Goddard early.”
“Mm-hmm.” Viola Wells didn’t miss much, and the thoughtful sound indicated she knew there was more to the story, but, bless her, she asked no further questions.
“Where’s Tristan?” Tess asked, noting that the cottage was quiet. Her brother was rarely present without making noise.
Mrs. Wells lifted a hand to pat at her hair, then checked the buttons on her high-necked day dress. A stalling tactic that sent a little shiver down Tess’s spine.
“What has he done?”
“It’s really the Bromley brothers you should be vexed with.”
Tess closed her eyes for a moment and tried to temper what she truly wanted to say to their beloved housekeeper.
“So he’s back to toying with Justine Bromley’s heart again, is he?”
Mrs. Wells frowned at that. “Now, now, she might be his heart’s true mate.”
Tess scoffed. “Where is he?”
“I can only guess he’s—”
“At the pub.”
