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“The vicious cow!” June burst out.
“Before I went to pack my belongings,” Tuppence continued, “I began to put away my supplies for cleaning the grates. I was cornered in a sitting room by one of the sons, who was home on holiday from university. He started pulling at my skirts, and . . . attacked me.” She paused with an irritable movement of her head, as if trying to shake off the memory. “It was very painful. After he finished, I began to crawl away, and he laughed. I remember my hand closing around a fire iron. I remember how it felt against my palm. But I don’t remember anything after that. They said I hit him in a bad place. Lost a testicle, what I heard.”
“He deserved it,” Reina said.
“Hell sweat him,” June added in a near-growl.
“It was in prison I found out I was belly-full.” Tuppence buried her head in her arms.
“Everyone needs help through a rough patch,” Reina said. “We’ll help you, if you’ll help us.”
“I can’t help anyone. I’m sick as a horse most mornings. And tired in the afternoons. I can’t run up and down stairs. I can’t lift anything heavy or—”
“I need a housekeeper,” Reina interrupted. “Can you organize a household and do monthly inventory? Can you come up with a basic budget for supplies and talk to tradesmen? And write simple correspondence regarding household matters?”
Tuppence lifted her head to regard Reina through a wet squint. “I can do those things,” she said at length.
“Good. That’s all we’ll need from you until after the baby is born. Later, when you’ve recovered, you can pitch in with tasks such as mending and silver polishing.” Reina hesitated before asking carefully, “Do you know yet if you’ll want to keep the baby?”
The young woman was slow to reply. “You’d let a bastard babe live under your roof?”
“I would.” A smile flickered at Reina’s lips. “As a matter of fact, I was born a bastard.”
Tuppence glanced at her fine wool dress with its ivory lace collar. “You’re—are you someone’s fancy woman?”
Reina shook her head. “I’m a businesswoman.” Seeing how exhausted Tuppence appeared, she said, “There’s no need to worry; we’ll come to an arrangement. For now, please ask the next person to wait five minutes before coming in.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After Tuppence had left the interview booth, Reina and June sat in troubled silence. Finally June spoke uncomfortably. “I’m sorry for her. But someone has to say it, Queenie: She’ll turn out to be a dead weight.”
“Possibly,” Reina admitted. “But she’s our only hope of hiring anyone with experience in housekeeping. And if we don’t step forward to help her, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
“The London Ladies’ charity is already helping her.”
“You know they won’t find anyone to hire her in this condition.”
“But why does that mean we have to?”
“Because we can. Because sometimes the moment chooses us.”
“Let’s kick the moment in the bollocks,” June suggested. Seeing Reina’s expression, she groaned softly and rubbed her face. “Fine, then. How many slamkins are left?”
“Two,” Reina said, looking through the files. “A forger, Norman Goodluck, who hopes to be a footman, and Enid Mox, applying as a housemaid.”
“Why bother interviewing?” June asked. “You’ll take ’em no matter what’s wrong with ’em.”
A smile came to Reina’s lips. “Probably.” But the smile dissolved as she neatened the stack of files. “But it still isn’t enough. We have to find one more person.”
“Another slamkin?” June asked in disbelief.
“Tuppence won’t be in any condition to supervise the others. What we need is a butler. An experienced older gentleman to train and supervise the household staff. Someone who knows how to arrange a formal dinner and draw up schedules, things like that.”
June shook her head slowly. “He’d have to be a bruiser, or they’d chew him up like plug tobacco. And he’d have to be willing to take orders from a woman. Believe you me, Queenie—you ain’t goin’ to find a man like that willing to take on our lot.”
Chapter Five
Half a Chance
