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SASSY THANKED JESSIE and sighed as she watched him leave. She had grown accustomed to his company and was sorry to see him go.
She turned and inspected her room. Molly had said she was to have Miss Saunders’ room. The room was no larger than ten by eleven, with walls papered in faded pink and besprinkled with green leaves. Sassy frowned when she realized the surprisingly large rectangular window in the center of the wall facing the doorway had no covering.
Next to the narrow bed, which was covered with a simple quilt of faded flowers on a pink background, stood a small, stark nightstand. She also spied a sturdy chest of drawers, a long mirror, and a tall, albeit narrow satinwood wardrobe.
Well, well, she was at Netherby. She had her own room and no complaints. Things could be worse.
Miss Sallstone was a bit of a mystery. Sassy was certain she was not what she wanted people to think—a simple headmistress. She was sure that the headmistress was much more than she presented, but what?
Also, what was the awful sensation she got when she walked up the stairs? Evil? Her logic rejected this. At a school for young girls? Impossible … and yet her magic voice had clearly whispered the word evil. She had been accosted with it; the wickedness of lingering ill deeds always made her feel sick and set her on guard, and that was how she’d had felt.
Briefly she wondered what had happened to Miss Saunders and made a mental note to inquire about her in the morning.
She thought of her father and mother and then, with a soft ache, began the business of unpacking.
* * *
Light splattered with dust particles seared through Sassy’s undraped window the following morning and brought her eyes flickeringly to life.
She had not slept well, and with a groan she gazed up at the brigh
t sun’s rays taunting her. Shading her eyes against the offending light, she groaned again. “Must get to town and purchase some fabric for that bare window,” she mumbled to herself.
How odd, she thought, that a window in a room occupied by her predecessor should have gone without drapes. She shrugged this off as she pulled the covers over herself. It was so cold in her room.
A few moments later, she dragged herself out of bed and washed with the water from the pitcher she had been given after dinner. That too was uncomfortably cold. She picked out a warm woolen shawl and draped it around herself before she went about the business of brushing her hair, taking out the Grecian curls it had been styled into by Lady Margate’s maid. Decidedly that would not do at the school. Instead, she divided her hair, braided both sections, and pinned them at the top of her head where wispy locks shaded her forehead.
She donned one of her mourning gowns of gray silk, with a white lace fichu at the neck. The gown was long sleeved and banded at the waist with a darker shade of gray velvet. Finally, she pulled on her half-boots of black leather and then picked up the dark wool shawl. Throwing it over her shoulders, she made her way to the stairs to find Miss Graves.
Once again, she felt the pulse of ‘something’ in the walls that hugged the wide staircase and tried to ignore it.
She had to make this position work—she didn’t have a choice. Women of her class when left without parents, and without a home, had to find a way to make an acceptable living. Her trust fund would not buy her a home or even lease one and still have enough left over to pay for everything that went with maintaining one.
She needed to work, to save … and …
Molly almost ran into her. “Oh! There ye be!” Molly took her hand, saying, “Oh, Miss, ye be late!”
“Late?” she repeated, surprised. The hour was quite early. “Well, no one told me what time I was to meet with Miss Graves,” she said, frowning, as she allowed Molly to pull her along a few steps before dropping the girl’s hand when they reached the L-shaped hall to a thick oak door.
Molly whispered, “Miss Graves is waiting on ye in there, and the headmistress will be along any minute...”
Sassy smiled. “Is this usual?”
“No. I came to fetch ye so ye wouldn’t be late yer first morning.” She clucked her tongue. “Never saw Miss Sallstone leave her quarters before breakfast. She doesn’t dine with the teachers. Not she!” Molly shook her head. “But she be coming in this morning to make ye known to them, and in a right foul mood to boot.”
“I see. I suppose she is more comfortable taking breakfast in her rooms,” Sassy remarked absently.
“Aye, and never before ten! And,” Molly said with a strange look, “not always alone.”
Curiosity aroused, Sassy raised a brow at the girl’s tone. “Oh?”
Molly nodded. Evidently she had taken a liking to Sassy, for she put her hand on Sassy’s arm, eyed her conspiratorially, and as though imparting very serious information said, “Aye, that one entertains in her room, and if Lady Devine knew of it, heads would roll.”
“And why is that?” Sassy’s brows arched.
“Because ’tis a man she entertains,” Molly said with a low hiss. “The doc comes regular, he does. And from what I have noticed,” Molly said knowingly, “they are real good friends, they are.” She shrugged. “And there be others as well.”
Sassy digested this but realized she shouldn’t encourage this sort of gossip so said softly, “Thank you, Molly, but I had better get inside before the headmistress arrives.”
