“I would not be suspicious if every mistake were not to his advantage. He should strive to be careless on your behalf on occasion, if he is going to be careless at all.”
“You are sweet to be concerned, but with your keen eyes, no grocer will take advantage.”
“I think I will suggest that he find a pair of keen eyes to help him too.”
“You might do that. Possibly the poor man is only overworked and tired.”
What a good-hearted, optimistic woman. “I will be leaving now, if you have no further need for me.”
Lady Farnsworth set down her pen. “Before you go, I want you to know that you should dress better tomorrow. We will go back to Bedford Square and you will be introduced to the patroness of the journal. She is a lady of the highest distinction. I do not want you looking like a poor mouse.”
“What does such a lady want with me? She does know about me, doesn’t she?” It would be like Lady Farnsworth to assume that if she enjoyed her secretary’s company, everyone would, when in fact no one in her circle would care to make that secretary’s acquaintance.
“She is aware of your employment. She finds it interesting that I took on a woman. You are something of a curiosity, my dear.” She looked down at her letter. “I will need to redo this completely. I am afraid that once again I kept changing my mind as to the wording and now I question its emphasis. I will mull it over and finish it tomorrow night.”
“You intend to write tomorrow night, then.” Amanda could not believe her good fortune that Lady Farnsworth had opened a door to this subject. She had debated how to do so herself. “I thought you might be attending that big ball. I thought everyone who mattered was going. It is even all the talk in the shops.”
“Lady Hamilton’s ball? Good heavens, no. I can’t abide masked balls. What silliness. Not to mention all kinds of people sneak in. Even Cyprians attend. The gentlemen think that makes for wonderful fun, but I can do without eating supper beside a whore, thank you very much.”
“Maybe the journal’s patroness will attend and tell you about it, if you see her often.”
“Ah, you regret I will have no stories for you.” She cocked her head and thought. “I am quite sure that lady will not go. Tomorrow you will see why. I will collect gossip elsewhere if it amuses you, however.” She picked up her pen. “Now be off with you and take care. I worry about you out alone in town, Miss Waverly. Better if you lived here, as I offered, but I accept your reluctance to become too dependent on an employer.”
Amanda left the house to walk home. On the way, she made a little detour and entered Hanson’s Grocery. A shop favored by the elite of Mayfair, the establishment traded on its long pedigree as surely as it did in sacks of coffee, flour, and salt. The current Mr. Hanson had inherited the store and clientele from his father.
Amanda pretended to consider the wares for sale until the other patrons finished their business and left the store. Mr. Hanson then turned his attention to her. A tall, thin man with a shock of red hair, he had no trouble looking down his nose at her once he took in her simple garments. His red eyebrows rose enough to indicate he thought she had mistakenly wandered into the wrong establishment.
“I am Amanda Waverly, Mr. Hanson. I have served Lady Farnsworth these past five months as secretary. You probably do not remember that it is I who bring you her payments.”
He gave a slight nod, and his eyebrows lowered.
“I also maintain her accounts. I thought that I should tell you that whoever is in turn keepingyouraccounts needs close watching. Every bill my lady receives shows subtle alterations that I have to correct.”
“Indeed? Lady Farnsworth is a much-esteemed patron. I am distraught this has happened.” He did not look distraught in the least. A little annoyed, but not upset.
“It is not carelessness. It is deliberate. A one becomes a seven. A nine becomes a zero. Someone not checking carefully probably would not notice. In short, sir, the person sending out those bills has the mind of a thief, and that can lead to scandal, ruin, and destruction for an establishment such as yours.”
Red blotched his cheeks.
“I thought you should know. It would be a shame if that for which your family labored so hard was all lost due to an employee giving in to temptation.”
His deep frown caused those eyebrows to merge. “How good of you to take the trouble. I will look into it and see that it ends.”
“That is wise. Not every patron is as optimistic about human nature as my mistress is. If it is happening with others too, one of them might well swear down information againstyou. That would be most unfortunate.” She leveled a bland but direct gaze at him.
Now he did appear distraught. “I will see that the lady’s account is always correct in the future. I will check it myself.”
“How good of you. Good day to you now.” She left, satisfied that Mr. Hanson would reform. Should Lady Farnsworth ever employ someone else on her accounts, no one would take advantage of her good nature.
* * *
Two hours later, in the room that she let on Girard Street, Amanda surveyed the garments laid out on her narrow bed. She dumped out the contents of her shopping basket on the coverlet too.
These were the fanciest dresses given to her by Lady Farnsworth, so they were all of that lady’s antiquated style. Normally, Lady Farnsworth’s maid, Felice, should receive these castoffs, but Felice was of an age when she had no use for frippery as she called it, and was too proud to sell used garments to the dealers who specialized in such things.
Amanda always accepted the castoffs gratefully and labored for hours remaking the dresses as best she could into something more current by raising waists and cutting yards out of skirts. Some, however, would never be adaptable. Those were the ones now spread on her bed.
The setting sun illuminated them in all their unfashionable glory. It flowed through the small, southern-facing window set high in the wall of her cellar chamber. This had once been part of the kitchen of a family home before some owner broke the whole building into tiny hovels in which dozens of people crammed themselves.
