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“I know this is a great responsibility I ask of you. With your agreement, I’ll devise a plan. Now, there’s another matter to consider, entirely separate but also financial. Your compensation.”
Stella closed her eyes briefly, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled.
The unusual display confirmed Clara’s fears; the sensitive topic had upset things. “I apologize, Stella, for—”
“No,” came the soft but firm interruption. “It is I who must apologize. When a resident is embarrassed by needing assistance of any kind, we’re the first to reassure her. Yet we, for all that we’ve seen and done at Violet House, can scarcely stand to speak of finances.”
Clara gave a relieved smile. “One more forbidden activity—managing money for ourselves. It’s been awkward, hasn’t it?”
Stella leaned in, and Clara followed suit to hear her quiet voice. “I know to the pound the value of my company in the theater, my services thereafter. Placing a figure on my worth to Violet House…I can scarcely abide that.”
They both sat back in their chairs when the wheels of a tea cart rattled close by.
“Yes, thank you,” Clara replied to the uniformed woman holding up a teapot questioningly. She needed the time to think more than she needed the tea.
As soon as it was safe, Clara leaned in again, decided. “I was set to argue rationally with you. To point out—honestly—how vital you are to the LLS. But I refuse to justify your worth that way.”
Stella shook her head. “I’m not in need of help, Clara. I appreciate your kindness, and if ever I—”
“Every time you’re at Violet House instead of working, you forfeit earnings.”
Stella raised an eyebrow delicately and her chin rose. “I assure you that my earnings are sufficient. I live within my means, and still set aside nuts for my winter.”
“You’re not preparing for winter, Stella! You’re saving to purchase yourfreedom.”
Stella sat completely still—until she had to lower her eyelids to hide the gloss of tears. “Yes. But I don’t regret a minute that I’ve spent at Violet House. I only wish I could spend more. There’s always more to do.”
“Precisely! That’s why I’m hoping we can come to an agreement where you spend as much time as you wish at Violet House, and you draw a proper salary.”
Stella started to shake her head, but she froze, and her eyes moved around as if she was thinking.
“The idea is compelling, is it not? If you wanted to stop your other work entirely, we can—”
“No.” Stella’s answer was definitive. “It’s out of the question now. We’re already fretting over what would happen to the residents if we ran out of funds. I refuse to draw the salary from the LLS I earn elsewhere, not when we’re speaking of needing to save. But I cannot compromise overly on my own plan for freedom. Not after everything I’ve done.”
Clara’s toes dug into the floor under the table. If they weren’t at Miss Smith’s, she’d want to embrace her friend—even if she wasn’t sure how Stella would react.
“My apologies, Stella, I’m afraid all these new arrivals to the surrounding tables…it’s so terribly loud now. Did you say that we’ll be increasing the monthly disbursement to you by twenty percent?”
Stella gasped, then laughed, shaking her head ruefully. But as the laughter wore off, she looked somber.
Eventually, she swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
This time when she heard the tea cart, Clara was aflutter. “There it is! Just in time. I’m famished!”
