“Are you feeling well?” Merry asked. “How is your head?”
I felt my head. The bump had reduced considerably. “I’m completely recovered. Nothing to worry over.”
“Breakfast is downstairs in the dining room,” Merry said. “Lord Barnes and the children always eat at eight. He asked that you join them.”
“Thank you, Merry.” That’s right. It was Saturday. All days had merged together during my long trip.
“My pleasure, miss.” She gestured toward the wardrobe. “May I take your dirty underclothes to wash?”
Merry was washing my clothes? At home, my sister and I did all the wash on Saturday, using two tubs of water that took hours to heat on the stove, and then strung everything across the front room to dry.
I went to the wardrobe and picked out my underclothes. Ashamed, I handed them to her. I’d worn the same ones for days. They probably smelled horrific. Merry seemed undaunted. “What about the dress?” she asked.
“It’s exceedingly dirty,” I said, pulling my plain gingham dress from the wardrobe where I’d hung it the night before. Dirt and grime had soaked into the bottom, despite the ankle-length hem.
“I’ll take care of it, Miss Cooper.” She smiled, seemingly pleased.
After she left, I dressed by the fire in my Sunday best. My sister had sewn a dress in a light blue wool serge with a gray trim from a pattern she’d borrowed from a neighbor. Between that and my teacher uniform, we’d used the last of the money I’d set aside for my wardrobe. There had been none left for a new coat, but the dress was beautifully sewn. What I would do when the weather warmed, I was uncertain. I’d decide when the time came.
I fixed my hair, enjoying how clean and shiny it felt as I wrapped it into a bun at the base of my neck. What a luxury to have fresh hair. I hadn’t felt as rested or good since the day before I left home. I still had no idea what I was going to do about a hat. Had Harley been able to rescue it from the accident?
By this time, the clock said it was five minutes to eight. I examined myself in the mirror, not displeased with my reflection. The smudges beneath my eyes had lightened. My cheeks were pink from the chilly room and my eyes bright.
As I came out of my room, Flynn came barreling out of his. “Last one downstairs is a rotten egg.” Theo followed shortly thereafter, holding a book against his chest.
He smiled shyly at me. “Good morning, Miss Cooper. Flynn thinks everything’s a race.”
“That’s quite all right,” I said. “Does anyone ever race him?”
“Only Cymbeline,” Theo said. “But she never wins. One time she slipped and sprained her ankle.”
“Dear me.”
“Someday, when I’m a doctor, I’ll know how to fix an ankle and the bump on your head.”
“You want to be a doctor?” I asked.
“Yes, Miss Cooper. A good doctor that fixes people.” A shadow crossed over his face. “Even ones where the sickness is the kind you can’t see, like my mother had.”
I practically had to put my hands around my own neck to keep from asking a follow-up question to this first hint about the late Lady Barnes.
The girls tumbled from their room, wearing dark blue dresses with white pinafores. Fiona’s and Cymbeline’s dark curls were pinned back with a white bow. Josephine wore her long blond hair in a braid down her back.
“Hello, Miss Cooper,” Cymbeline said, grinning. “Josephine helped us dress because Nanny Foster ran away.”
“She did?” I asked Josephine, deferring to the oldest child.
“She’s gone back to the east,” Josephine said, looking solemn. “She didn’t like us.”
“We didn’t like her,” Cymbeline said.
I hid a smile. I hadn’t liked her much either.
“Who are you?” Fiona asked, her eyes wide.
“That’s our teacher,” Josephine said. “Don’t you remember her from last night?”
“Oh, yes. The fainting lady,” Fiona said. “I forgot.”