Page 25 of Aurelia

Aurelia smiled. “Hy would be glad to hear that.”

“Truly?”

“Oh, yes. She likes to dress in breeches and coats.”

“And your father lets her?”

“My father is dead,” Aurelia said, remembering to stick to the story at the last moment. “But he never cared what any of us did when he was alive.”

Lady Celsa digested that. “Is your mother alive?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t know about Hy’s nocturnal adventures. If she did, she would not like it.”

The girl leaned closer and closer to the painting until her nose almost touched the canvas. “Is that a—a squirrel looking out of the boy’s coat?”

“Yes, it is my brother Dauntry’s pet.”

“How lucky he is! I have only seen them a few times as we don’t have any here. I understand they are quite clever. He is adorable. What is his name?”

“Silas. And he is a little thief.”

“That is the name of our stablemaster! Wait until I tell Silas that a squirrel shares his name.” Celsa laughed, and the expression turned her from an awkward girl with too-big features into a handsome young woman. She would never be beautiful, but there was a good deal of character in her face and Aurelia would enjoy sketching it.

“What does he steal?” Celsa asked.

“Everything. Stockings, gloves, sweets if he should happen to find any.”

“Where did he—”

A sharp rap on the door cut off her question and the door opened before Aurelia could call out permission to enter.

The woman who marched into the room was a stranger, but—based on her clothing and pinched expression—Aurelia decided this must be the unfortunate governess.

“I am Miss Hatchet,” the woman said, confirming her suspicions. “You must be the artist—Miss Burton.” Her eyes narrowed when she saw her charge. “I knew I would find you here, my lady. Your father said you were to come to the schoolroom immediately after dinner and work on memorizing your poem before bedtime.”

Lady Celsa regarded her governess with seething dislike. “I will get it done.”

“Your father said it should be done in a timely fashion.” Her unspoken threat hung in the air: I will tell him, and you will be punished.

While Aurelia could see Lady Celsa was not the most tractable of pupils, she could not bring herself to like a woman who clearly enjoyed wielding her power over her student.

Celsa shoved the painting she was still holding at her governess and pushed past her, stomping from the room.

Miss Hatchet gave Aurelia a look that said, You see what I must tolerate? and then glanced down at the painting. “This is your work?”

“Yes.”

“It is very good,” she said, sounding more than a little grudging.

“Thank you.”

The governess handed her the portrait while giving her a thorough once-over. “Did she come into your room and pry into your things? If she did, you must tell his lordship.” Miss Hatchet’s eyes glittered with malice. “I will tell him if you’d rather not.”

“I invited her in,” Aurelia lied, not wishing to throw any more fuel onto the fire that already raged between father and daughter.

Miss Hatchet grunted and glanced around Aurelia’s bedchamber, her expression growing even more pinched. “This is a very nice room. Mine is near the schoolroom. And Lady Celsa’s chambers,” she added with a slight flaring of her nostrils that told Aurelia just how she felt about that.

Aurelia returned the portrait to the small wooden stand, debating how to get the other woman out of her room.