Jackson blew her a kiss and grinned, unrepentant. I felt a stab of envy for them both. It would be nice to have someone else who was always on my side. My father had been, of course, but years alone had only softened the edges of that pain, not erased it. I lingered in the kitchen, running my finger around the edge of my coffee mug, reluctant to leave that oasis of light and warmth for the cold, watery light of the studio.
Jackson pushed back from the table, then paused. “Oh, MissWilson. I’ll be going into town once I can ride instead of swim, and if there’s aught you need me to pick up for you at the general store, just let me know.”
“I would love that,” I said, “but I’m afraid I… err…” I lifted my hands helplessly. I didn’t have enough money for more than penny candy, and probably not much of that.
“Which reminds me,” said Mrs. Kent, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s the end of the month tomorrow, and you’re due your pay.”
“I am?” I said, heard the questioning note in my voice, and tried again. “I mean, I am, yes.” Jackson chuckled at that, but his wife gave him a quelling look.
“You are, and don’t think I’ll let that tightfist upstairs forget it,” she said. “Jackson takes the wage money out of the bank when he’s there, so if there’s something you want, he’ll bring you the change.”
“Without so much as a broker’s fee,” he promised.
“I wouldloveenough fabric for a new dress,” I said, with real longing. “It doesn’t have to be fancy, but just so I’m not wearing the same two all the time.”
“Pfff,” said Mrs. Kent. “Is that all? If you don’t mind dressing like Sally and me, there’s still uniforms in storage from the days when we had a full staff here.” She eyed me. “You can probably alter one or two to fit you, if you’re decent with a needle, and if not, I know a lady who can do it for a fair price.”
“I can do it.”
“Then find me when I’m finished here, and I’ll take you to see what we’ve got.”
An hour later, Mrs. Kent led me to a back corner of the house, lighting candles as we went. It was clear that this was not regularly visited. The air smelled of floor wax. We stepped into a storeroom which, while neatly kept, was clearly where household goods went to die. There were neat rows of storm windows lining one wall and folded stacks of furniture covers, but therewere also chairs that needed the seats re-caned, spare tin ceiling tiles, and enough chamber pots to accommodate a small weak-bladdered army.
Mrs. Kent threaded her way through these piles to a closet with double doors. The smell of mothballs rolled out, and she lifted a candle, revealing long shelves covered in fabric.
“Good heavens,” I said blankly, staring at the rows of folded dresses and aprons. “You could dress every girl back at the school twice over.”
“Supposed to be a dozen servants here,” said Mrs. Kent, “just for the house itself.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “That’s why the whole place is in dustcovers. Can’t keep it up, just with me and Sally. It’s all we can do just to air everything and make sure it doesn’t go to mold and mildew.”
I shook my head. “It’s such a big house. Why aren’t there more people?”
Mrs. Kent snorted. “The doctor hasn’t got that many friends, nor family either.”
“Yet he built this place…” I glanced over my shoulder, down the hall, at all the closed doors. Behind them, furniture slept under sheets and wallpaper faded quietly in the sun. “I wonder why?”
“It wasn’thismoney that built it,” Mrs. Kent muttered, then snapped her mouth closed as if she regretted saying so much. “Anyway, pick out anything close to your size and leave it outside your door. I’ll see that it’s washed and ready for altering.” She turned away, her heels clicking on the boards, before I could ask whose moneyhadbuilt the house, and where exactly that money had come from.
“Jackson?”
Rain had given way at last to a clear, pleasant morning, and I tracked Mr. Kent down in the vegetable garden just outside theformal grounds. He looked up from where he was staking up tomato plants that had flopped over in the rain. “Hey there, Miss Wilson. Thought of what you need from town? I’ll be going this afternoon.”
“Indeed.” I proffered a short list.
“… Ah,” he said, making no move to take it. “Should have warned you, miss. I’m not much good with my letters.”
“Oh!” I put a hand over my mouth, embarrassed. “I’m sorry!”
He chuckled. “No, no, no need to fash yourself. My letters are bad but my memory’s top-notch. Just you tell me what you want and I’ll go looking.”
“Socks,” I said with a sigh. “I cannot knit socks to save my life. Tooth powder. And… er…” I scuffed one foot in the rich earth just off the garden path. A small green weed had poked its head up, and was promptly flattened, although it looked like plantain, and nothing keeps plantain down for long. “If they happen to have some penny candy…”
“Miss Wilson, I amshocked.” He put his hands on his hips. “Are you telling me that our fine young scientist has a sweet tooth?”
“Not at all. I’m… err… conducting an experiment. On the effects of candy on mood.” I caught the edge of his grin. “It’s averylong-running experiment.” Back in Wilmington, there had been a fine candy shop two streets over, and it was a rare week that I didn’t acquire at least one peppermint stick. In all other respects, I was eating infinitely better now than I had been, but I did miss the occasional taste.
“Happy to oblige,” he said cheerfully. “Socks, tooth powder, penny candy. Anything else?”
I considered. This was the first time I’d spoken to Jackson without his wife present, after all. “Actually, I had a question. I think the first night I was here, you said something about there not being anything scary in the woodsanymore. What did you mean by that?”
