Clara recovered quickly. “I won’t fit them exactly, miss. I’ll leave space for you to fill them out.”
“You don’t have to call me miss; it’s just Aoife.” She held up her arms for Clara to slip the dress over her head.
“I’m afraid I do, miss. His lordship wouldn’t like it if I didn’t.”
“He never has to know what we girls do in private.”
“I suppose not, miss.” Clara said, fastening the dress.
“You did it again.”
“It’s a hard habit to break.”
“All right, you can call me miss, but only if you promise not to treat me like one of them.”
Clara pulled at the fabric of the bodice.
“I’d like it if we could be friends.” Aoife went on.
Clara looked her in the eyes, checking to see whether she was sincere. Eventually she nodded. “I’d like that.”
They fell into a relaxed silence as Clara worked, pinning and adjusting Aoife like a doll.
She tried to be helpful, turning when needed, lifting her hair out of the way. Finally, when she reached for a piece of fabric, Clara sighed.
“Please hold still,” she mumbled around the pins she was holding between her lips.
“At least let me hold the pins,” Aoife said.
Clara looked uncertain, then removed the pins from her mouth and held them out to Aoife. Aoife smiled, and Clara returned it readily.
Clara stepped back to check the line of the pinned dress. “There now. That’s sitting better already.”
Aoife looked down at the unfamiliar silhouette. “Clara… can I ask you something? A few things, actually.”
Clara blinked, then smiled. “Of course, miss. Ask away.”
Aoife turned slightly so Clara could reach the back seam. “I don’t understand how any of this works. The house, the staff… there are so many people. What do they all do?”
Clara’s hands moved deftly, the pins clicking softly as she worked. “Well, there’s Mrs Harrow, the housekeeper. You’ve met her. Keeps everything running. Then Cook, naturally. Two kitchen maids under her. The footmen handle serving and errands. Alton oversees the men. Then there’s the scullery maid, Pansy, poor thing, up before dawn to light the fires and last to sleep.”
Aoife tried to repeat the titles under her breath, committing them to memory. The longer the list grew, the more difficult it became.
“Are you all friendly?” she asked.
Clara laughed lightly. “Friendly? Oh, some of us. Some not. Same as anywhere. Long days make tempers short.” She glanced up with a conspiratorial tilt of her head. “I guess we’re a bit like a family; we have our difficulties, but we look out for each other. Mostly.”
“And your real family?” Aoife ventured.
Clara paused a heartbeat too long. “A long way from here,” she said, her voice gentling. “But I’m treated well enough.”
There was a lilt at the edge of her sentences, rounder vowels and a softer rhythm that didn’t fit the Eldrossian accent.
“I’m sorry,” Aoife said quickly. “I’m being nosy. I… I’ve never been anywhere like this. I don’t know the rules.”
“You’ll learn.” Clara pinned the last seam and stepped back. “Everyone does.”
Aoife let out a slow breath. “This is my first night not sleeping at home.”
