Clara’s expression softened. “Truly?”
Aoife nodded. “Unless you count the night Cormac and I fell asleep in the field when we were twelve. We weren’t meant to. My father was furious the next day.”
“An innocent mistake. Why was he so angry?” Clara asked. From the tone, she was asking simply to make conversation, but Aoife found herself wishing she hadn’t mentioned it.
“My sister was sick, my brother already gone…” She swallowed, surprised the words were coming so easily. “He was worried.”
Clara’s hands stilled. “I’m sorry, miss.”
For a little while, lying under the stars with Cormac, none of it had been real. They’d been that for each other, a place to escape when life seemed unbearable. And now he was beyond her reach.
Aoife shook her head to clear it and managed a thin smile. “I can’t imagine sleeping in a bed that large. On my own, I mean. It’s big enough to swallow me. How do you do it?”
Clara laughed. “The servant beds are normal-sized, miss. Besides, I don’t sleep alone,” Clara said cheerfully. “I share with one of the other maids.”
“Do you?”
“Aye,” she lowered her voice. “She snores like a sawmill.”
Aoife let out a sudden laugh, sharp and unexpected. It startled her as much as it did Clara.
Clara grinned. “If you’d rather have company, miss, I’ll swap. Truly. I’d give anything for one quiet night.”
Aoife shook her head, still smiling faintly. “No. But thank you.”
“It seems strange now, but you’ll get used to it.”
Aoife studied the giant bed again. She supposed she would. She looked around the room as Clara continued tucking and pinning the dress to the correct length.
“What is all this… stuff?” She asked, gesturing to the furniture.
Clara smiled. “That’s a wardrobe where we’ll hang your dresses, and that’s a chaise longue.” She gestured to the furniture as she spoke, and Aoife tried to store the names away for future reference. “Over next to the window is the vanity. That’s where we’ll do your hair and makeup.”
“What are all the tiny drawers for?”
“Pins and ribbons, powders, that sort of thing.” Clara stood up, weighing something. She crossed to the vanity.
“This one,” she said, opening the largest drawer, “is special.”
Aoife looked. It was tidy with a brush, a hand-held mirror and a comb, all neatly lined up. “That’s… nice.”
Clara grinned, then reached inside the drawer, and a second drawer appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“How did you do that?”
“There’s a small latch on the right-hand side that clicks into place when you close it. I found it by accident when I was cleaning.”
“Clever,” Aoife wasn’t sure what she had that she needed to hide. All she had in the world were the book and wooden figure Halverton had allowed her to keep, and he already knew about those.
Clara slid the drawers shut again.
“Any other surprises waiting for me?” Aoife asked as she returned to their previous positions so Clara could finish pinning her hem.
“Not that I know of, but they say old houses like this contain many secrets.”
“Ow” Aoife gasped at a sharp pinch in her ankle.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Clara gasped.
