Six months ago, Max had known nothing about engraving. But after being offered the position here in Scotland, he’d learned all he could. Andrew Prince had even taken him to New York in the spring to visit the Prince Armory, so Max could see the fruits of the Oliphant engravers. Their work on the custom firearms was exquisite, and so was this.
Of course, Oliphants were known through Scotland as master engravers, a tradition dating back to the middle ages. Was one of them engravingshoesnow?
And if so, how could he meet this engraver? Because, judging from the fuss he’d heard made last night about the shoes Lysander’s partner had worn, there was a market out there for wearable works of art such as these.
Humming thoughtfully, Max re-wrapped the shoe. He had a job to do, so he’d move the shoe to his office, but he’d keep his ears open for news about a lady missing a shoe. Of course, if shewere anything like Lysander, she likely had dozens and dozens of pairs of shoes and wouldn’t miss this one.
But then again, if shewaslike Lysander—refined and haughty—why had she run off into the night?
He’d find her, return her shoe and ask if she needed help. And if she didn’t, he’d ask her where she’d gotten the shoe, because he wanted to meet the engraver.
In the meantime, Max figured he’d better go put on some pants.
The afternoon sun beat down atop Ember’s bare head, and she relished the sensation. Here in the kitchen garden, there was little chance of a guest stumbling across her and her “scandalous” hair color, so she’d removed the cap the baroness insisted she wear.
It was freeing, but not as freeing as the memory of last night, and how it had felt to catch the eye of the guest of honor.
If someonedidsee her now, sleeves rolled up as she wrung the water from her stepmother’s unmentionables in preparation for hanging them to dry, they would never guess she was the same mysterious, silk-garbed, be-geared lady from the previous night.
Ladies do not have to wash their own drawers, much less someone else’s. What is this stain? Does Machara eat chocolate in her undergarments? No, do not smell it!
A wisp of hair fell in front of her forehead, and Ember blew upward. When that didn’t dislodge it, she swiped it with herforearm, then she tossed the last of the white cotton into the basket and bent backward with a groan, stretching her back.
“Are you certain you do not need any help?” Bonnie asked quietly from her place on the bench, where she’d been reading.
“Yes, now that the hot water part is done, you can help me hang these things.”
Machara had long ago forbade her daughters from doing any manual labor, or anything which would risk their chances at attracting the worthiest—meaningwealthiest—suitors. Which meant wrangling their own drawers in and out of near-boiling water and scrubbing them with caustic soap was out of the question.
But she had no objections toEmberdoing such work.
“Pass me those pins, and I will start on this end of the line,” Bonnie declared.
Gratefully, Ember did so. “Thank you.”
They worked in silence for a while, until Bonnie suddenly asked, “Why do you do this? The laundry, I mean.”
Ember shrugged. “Because it has to be done. Your mother refused to hire another maid after Lisette married, and if I did not do it?—”
“No, I mean…” Bonnie shook her head, as if looking for the right words. “This isourlaundry.” She flapped one of her sister’s chemises, getting the wrinkles out before hanging it. “You should not have to do it.”
Ember snorted softly. “Oh, isTiffanygoing to suddenly start doing laundry?” Both of them knew Tiffany had been grateful tobe forbidden from doing manual labor. “Besides, this load is notallyour and Tiffany’s and Machara’s things. I had to wash all the tea towels, and I threw in one of my soiled petticoats as well.”
Not the ones she’d worn last night though. Those, and the gown, were hanging in the back of her wardrobe, while the mask and her one remaining shoe had been carefully wrapped and placed on the highest shelf in her little room.
Bonnie didn’t reply for a long moment, but when she did, she sounded almost disappointed. “I know this is not what you want from life, Ember. And it is not fair you have to slave for Mother.”
She was right. Itwasn’tfair. Before her father’s marriage to Machara, they’d been happy. Father’s wealth had come from his engraving work, and he was well-respected.
But he’d thought thathewasn’t enough for his ‘little lassie’, so he’d married to give her a mother and sisters. Her sisters had been a wonderful addition to Ember’s life, but the Baroness had never been kind.
“I do it to keep the inn going,” Ember declared stiffly. “But I will not do it much longer.”
Her sister brightened, tugging the clothesline down so she could smile at Ember over the top of the drying garments. “Oh,yes!Your shoes were the highlights of the ball last night! You should have seen the way everyone stared at them.” But then her expression fell. “You should have beenallowedto see. I am sorry. Mother told us what she did to you after we had left.”
Ember hesitated. Bonnie didn’t know she’d been able to attend the ball after all, and Ember wasn’t certain how to react. Finally, she settled on simply turning her face away and trying to keep her tone light.
“Well, it was nice to have the evening off at least.”
