The welcoming warmth of the entry struck Rose at once: the scent of warm bread and something faintly floral. Viola hesitated just inside the threshold, clutching Rose’s cloak about her as if afraid it might be taken away.
Mrs. Kier bent slightly to meet the girl’s gaze. “We’ve a bed for you, deary. Warm water and a full plate besides. You’ll be safe here.”
Viola glanced up at Rose, and only when Rose nodded did she move to follow Mrs. Kier.
They hadn’t gone two steps before a door down the corridor opened and Miss Botha appeared. Small, dark-eyed, and her rounded belly unmistakable beneath her loose night rail. Her hair was parted neatly, the tight coils smoothed back with oil and bound with a narrow ribbon, the style simple but dignified. Her bare feet padded silently over the polished floor. “What’s going on?”
“Kadida,” Mrs. Kier said without looking round, “back to bed, dear. It’s late.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Kier. Good evening, Miss Botha. This is Miss Lockhart. Miss Lockhart, this is Miss Botha.”
The girl’s eyes flicked to Viola, to Rose, and then down to her own hands. “Hello, Miss Lockhart. Is there anything I can help with?”
Rose felt an unexpected prickle at the back of her neck. In the sconced lighting, Kadida’s youthful face was stark, far too young to carry the weight Rose saw in her eyes.
Viola turned shocked eyes on Rose. “But she’s Afr—”
“With child?” Rose interrupted quickly. “Yes. Miss Botha was attacked most violently.” She had come here thinking to rescue Viola, to keep her from harm. Seeing the two young women together—Viola in her fine-boned prettiness and Kadida with her quiet strength—Rose realized with a small shock how easy it had once been for her to think of either of these girls asbeneath her.
No longer. Rose let out the held breath, hoping against hope that Viola interpreted her silent message:This could be you.
Rose didn’t wish to discard Kadida’s offer of assistance, sensing her need to feel useful. “Perhaps you could pull together a small tray for Miss Lockhart? I expect she’s quite famished,” Rose said.
With an almost indiscernible nod, Kadida withdrew.
Rose followed Viola after Mrs. Kier, who ushered them toward the stairs, speaking low about warm baths and spare nightdresses. Rose stopped, lingering in the hall, her gaze on Viola disappearing up the stairs, her mind uncomfortably full of memories of her come-out ball. Her gown of ivory silk, the champagne that tickled her nose, the assurance of a path lined with privilege and possibilities as the eldest daughter of the Duke of Ryleigh.
It was shocking to find herself wondering, for the first time, how different life would have been hadshebeen born in another house, under another name… She glanced at the door where Kadida had disappeared. Could she have survived a fate asunfortunate as Kadida or Inez had? Swallowing hard, she turned for the kitchens—a place she rarely visited, even in her own home.
Upon entering, she was immediately hit with the warmth of steaming water on a stovetop and the scent of fresh bread. Her stomach let out an unladylike gurgle, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since luncheon. Or had it been breakfast?
Kadida glanced over her shoulder with a shy smile. “Do you think Miss Lockhart would care for scones or a meat pie?”
“There are meat pies?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Kier always keeps food prepared for any arising situation,” Rose was informed. “Sometimes a couple of us are hungry in the night. She’s accounted for that as well.” Kadida’s head tipped to one side as if considering this. “I am frequently hungry, day and night.”
Something Rose knew nothing of, as she’d never carried a child herself. She offered Kadida a quick smile. “I suspect we should send both. I don’t believe Miss Lockhart has eaten a decent meal in several days, though I couldn’t say for certain.”
“Would you care for tea?” Kadida asked her.
“No. I’ll assist Mrs. Kier in seeing Miss Lockhart settled, then return home. I can take the tray up, if you like. You should be in bed,” Rose told her gently. “You need your rest.”
Kadida shrugged, putting a hand to her lower back. “I don’t sleep all that well these days.”
Rose hesitated, then nodded. “I see.” Though she didn’t. Not really.
Kadida assembled the tray. “I spend many nights just roaming the halls,” she confided.
Frowning, Rose stepped forward, found a teacup and saucer to place on the tray. She didn’t dare attempt to pour hot water in the teapot itself. That way lay disaster.
As it turned out, Kadida was quite adept at the task.
“Does Mrs. Kier know you roam the halls?”
Again, the girl smiled, though she didn’t look up from setting a plate with a steaming meat pie next to the scone. “I believe she knowseverythingthat goes on in this house. In a good way,” she was quick to reassure Rose.
“And she doesn’t mind?”
