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“Millie, are you light-headed? Are you hurt?” Dr. Hannigan was all business, shooing away the groundkeeper, who still had his hand at my elbow, and taking my chin, tilting my head one way and another, searching for injuries.
I took his hand gently, removing it from my face. The attention flustered me, making it feel like I was back in Our Lady of Grace again being poked and prodded, asked all manner of questions I’d been unable to answer. The last thing I wanted or needed was any reason for these people, my new peers, to decide I was a basket case.
Mad Millie, my mother’s voice echoed in my ears.
I’d been fine, though the scare had peaked me, but now my throat tightened, the muscles in my shoulders coiling up and building an ache in the base of my skull. In a moment, the world would collapse on top of me. I took a measured breath.
“I was on thebottomstep when I lost my footing.” I emphasized my position to ease his mind.“I haven’t hurt myself. Honestly, I’m all right. Is she?”
I purposefully directed everyone’s attention away, and three gazes shifted to the waifish maid, whose gray eyes were a bit too large for her face, giving her an ethereal appearance that likely handed her plenty of masculine attention.
“I’m fine,” she half whispered. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone here in the foyer. The house has been empty for so long. I thought…”
Ms. Dillard shushed the girl, not unkindly, and patted her back. “It’s all right, Felicity. Some strong tea will do you good. Rodney, come take Felicity to the kitchen. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She passed the young woman to the groundskeeper, who placed a hand on her back in a brotherly way and shuffled her off. She cast me one last glance over her shoulder, unblinking, and they disappeared into a portico.
“I’ve already alerted Callum to the young lady’s arrival,” Dr. Hannigan informed Ms. Dillard, who still hadn’t introduced herself to me. I took the initiative.
“I apologize for my chaotic arrival. You must be…”
“Ms. Dillard,” she finished for me, uninterested in pleasantries. “I manage the household for the professor. Welcome to Willowfield.”
To my ears, it didn’t sound like a welcome at all.
My cheeks burned, frustration making knots in my shoulders. I hadn’t even seen my employer yet and things were already going disastrously. I couldn’t have made a worse first impression, and this woman who was the overseer of everything that transpired within these walls was unhappy there was an interloper in her midst.
“I’m delighted to be here,” I said, determined to make friends.
“I’m sure the professor is waiting for you.” Ms. Dillard sought silent confirmation from the doctor, who nodded and offered me a reassuring shoulder squeeze.
“When Felicity recovers, she’ll take your bags”—she paused and corrected herself—“bag, to your room.”
Dr. Hannigan left my side, approaching the housekeeper, who continued to survey my clothes with faint disdain. My friendly conviction wavered.
“Well, it’s past time I depart. I leave everything in your capable hands, Ms. Dillard.”
“Doctor,” she responded dismissively.
The doctor’s expression became dour, and the two of them locked eyes, some unknown animosity passing between them. Then, the air cleared, and Dr. Hannigan presented me with a smile, the corners of his mustache lifting. “Enjoy Willowfield, Miss Foxboro. It has its charms.”
Ms. Dillard sniffed.
The doctor made his way out, going not to the front door but the same way the groundskeeper and the maid had gone, toward a back entrance somewhere in the servants’ halls. Ms. Dillard turned abruptly and walked away, expecting me to follow. Apprehensive, I abandoned my bag and headed after her.
“We’ll take the long way so you’ll get your bearings. Please pay attention as we go. The house can be a maze. It won’t do for you to get lost every time you attempt to find the library. We’ve put you in a room as close as possible to where you’ll work with Professor Hughes to eliminate unnecessary wandering.”
My exploration plan wasn’t as solid anymore, but she hadn’t expressly forbidden it yet. I felt there was still room for interpretation of what exactlywanderingmeant, unless I was kept locked in my room.
Every inch we traversed, there was more and more for my eyes to behold. Elaborate floral cornices and exquisite gilded vines were stenciled to the plaster ceiling where brass chandeliers with twisting serpentine arms lifted candles, half burned.
“No electric lights?” I asked with tentative curiosity.
“Willowfield was originally built too far from civilization to partake in the modern marvel of electricity. Professor Hughes endeavored to make the switch when it became possible, but the project is incomplete. Only parts of the house are wired.”
I offered an understanding hum and continued the game of trying to see all the many elaborate elements of the hall as we passed: statues of women languishing in the laps of their lovers, draped in luxurious fabrics, crowned with flowers. Portraits, carvings, and stained glass transoms depicting the sweeter and more whimsical fairies that were popular now.
Since she’d answered my previous question so readily, I ventured another.
