was whirring. It wasnât what Iwas expecting, but it was better than nothing. And there was his promise to give my work more thought. âThank you, I accept.â
âThere are conditions, of course.â
âYes?â I wasnât in a situation to demand much.
âIf I take you into my household, youâll work in exchange for bed and board.â
Iâd been here before, but I suppose I could look on it as a start. Maybe Iâd get some money if he published something of mine?
âI wish to take proper care of you so you are not to leave home without my express permission. Nokes â thatâs my assistant â will continue to go to the market so there should be no need for you to wander.â
I must have looked doubtful for he added, âI donât want a gadabout maid, miss. I have my good name to consider â and yours. I stand
in loco parentis
to my household, so I expect you to behave as a daughter to a father.â He smirked. âI donât suppose you know what that means, do you, miss?â
I was liking this Mr Tweadle less and less.âOh, but I do. In place of the parent, sir.â
This took him by surprise. âMy word, you are a clever girl! Where did you learn Latin?â
âItâs a long story.â
He waved this aside. âWhat other languages do you speak?â
âFrench â a bit of Italian.â
âHmm.â
That âhmmâ again. I was learning to recognize it as a sign of him scheming.
âPerhaps when youâve done your duties as maid, I may be able to make use of you with cataloguing the foreign books.â
âIâd like that.â
âGood. That brings me to the last condition. If you work here, you are not to set foot in the shop, do you understand? If you wish to speak to me, you knock on the door between here and the rest of the house and wait for me to answer.â
This seemed so unreasonable. What was wrong with me? I didnât have two heads, did I?
âBut why?â
âI will not have my kitchen maid, even a cleverone, interfering with my customers. You stay out of sight, do you understand?â
Bed and board versus the pleasure of telling him to get stuffed. Guess which won out.
âYes, sir.â
He gave me another of his insincere smiles. âThen you can start right away. Whatâs your name?â
âCatherine Royal.â
âWell then, Cathy. Come this side of the counter and Iâll show you where you are to live.â
Stepping through the gap, I shed my status as âMissâ and became just âCathyâ. I thought to say that my friends called me âCatâ but realized at once that I didnât want Mr Tweadle addressing me on those terms. Cathy was a stranger I was sharing my life with for a few weeks until I could get myself out of here. She wasnât me â not really.
Mr Tweadle led me down a dark passage to the back of the house. It didnât take long to work out why the last maid had left. Mr Tweadle and his assistant had the eating and sleeping habits of pigs â though perhaps, Reader, I am slandering thoseworthy porkers whose only fault is that they like to roll in a little mud. The kitchen was filthy â not a clean utensil anywhere, rotting food in the cupboards and an inch of muck on the floor. Even a rat would have turned his nose up at dining here. Mr Tweadle thrust a cap and apron in my hand, pointed to the pump in the yard and turned to go.
âWhere am I to sleep, sir?â I asked, thinking that Iâd like to get that clean before I bedded down for the night.
âHere of course. This is your kingdom now, Cathy. Youâll find your bedchamber behind that door.â He crunched his way out over the grit that had accumulated on the flagstones. âIâll have my dinner at five, supper at ten. Iâll send Nokes in with the necessaries when he gets back. Iâve an urgent
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