“She don’t want him sniffing around the staff.”
“She told me the same, saying you and I should steer clear of him,” Iadd. “She said your name, Bianca. She’s not stupid. She knows you’re up to something. Mr. Carboni’s a dangerous man, sure enough. Everyone says it. You’d best leave off with him, Bianca, or you’ll be in trouble with everyone.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Evans, Nico, probably Mr. Carboni…”
Back to that satisfied smirk. “I don’t think Mr. Carboni minds at all.”
I can’t talk about this another second. She drives me mad. “You never said anything to me about Granny.”
Regret softens her face. “You know I’m sorry, Rosie. I loved Granny.”
“You did not.”
“I loved teasing her, and she loved yelling at me. We had an understanding.” She steps closer to me. “Anyway, I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“Now you have that whole apartment.”
That’s true, though I consider itourapartment now. Mine and Damien’s. In The Ward, I am now relatively rich, with this property and all. “My brothers will probably come home to stay now that she’s gone. And maybe Da will come back.”
She knows I haven’t heard a peep from Da since he left, and she knows what I’m thinking: He’s found a better life. Maybe even a wife. Da is moving on without me. Whatever it is, the topic ends the conversation about the apartment.
I scowl at my trolley. “Did you use this yesterday?”
“The wheels work better than mine.”
“You didn’t fill the soap.”
“Sorry.”
“You didn’t think to fill it?”
“No. Sorry.”
Be calm, I tell myself.Just because she is behaving like a child, there’s no need to do the same. “Fine. I will be right back. I have to refill it. Try to behave for five minutes at least.”
chapterTWENTY–SIX
OCTOBER
Two months speed by. Not much has changed with Bianca, but I’ve stopped wasting my time with fretting about her. Sure, and we’re friends, but Bianca will do as Bianca pleases, God help us.
My life is richer with Damien in it. We’ve no papers saying we’re wed, but in my head and heart, sure, he’s my husband. If it wasn’t for the world’s sharp eyes and even sharper tongues, I’d not give a fig about the marriage part.
But this morning, Damien is cross with me. I pulled my box from under the bed to show him the photograph Mrs. Evans had taken of all the chambermaids. He reached into the box, too, and didn’t he pull out Mr. Carboni’s ten dollars. Holy Mother, the guilt hit me hard, it did.
“Why do you have this, Rosie?”
“Mr. Carboni gave me some money,” I tell him. I feel badly that I kept it from him, but I think I’ll feel better once it’s out in the open.
Damien must sense my regret. He’s frowning. “Why’d he do that?”
“He gave it to me in August, saying he wanted to pay for Granny’s medicine. I didn’t tell him it was probably too late.”
“You knew it was too late?”
