The Sins of the Wolf - Anne Perry [9]
Hester considered for several moments before replying. This was not a person who deserved, or would accept, a trite or insincere response.
“It is not that you become hardened,” she said thoughtfully. “But you learn to govern your emotions, and then to ignore them. If you allowed yourself to dwell on it you would become so wretched you would cease to be any use to those who were still living. And while it is very natural to pity, it is also quite pointless in a nurse, where there is so much that is practical to do. Tears don’t remove bullets or splint broken limbs.”
A look of calm filled Oonagh’s eyes, as though some irritating question had been resolved. She rose from the chair, ignoring the rest of her tea, and smoothed her skirts. “I am sure you are exactly the person to accompany Mother to London. She will find you most stimulating, and I have every confidence you will be ideal to care for her. Thank you for being so frank with me, Miss Latterly. You have set my mind at rest entirely.” She looked at a fob watch hanging from a ribbon at her shoulder. “It is still some time until luncheon. Perhaps you would like to spend it in the library? It is quite warm in there, and you will not be disturbed, should you wish to read.” She glanced at Deirdra.
“Oh yes.” Deirdra stood up also, “I suppose I had better go and check through the accounts with Mrs. Lafferty.”
“I’ve already done it,” Oonagh said quietly. “But I haven’t been through tomorrow’s menu with Cook yet. You might do that.”
If Deirdra resented her sister-in-law’s assumption of household governance, there was not a shred of it in her face.
“Oh, thank you so much. I hate figures, they’re always much the same, and so tedious. Yes, by all means, I’ll speak to Cook.” And with that she smiled charmingly at Hester and excused herself.
“Yes, I should very much like to read,” Hester accepted.
It had not been precisely an invitation, but she had nothing better to do, so she permitted herself to be directed to the very gracious library, lined with books on three sides, many of them leather bound and tooled in gold. She was curious to see that several of the handsomest, as well as many bound in ordinary cloth, had been printed by Farraline & Company. They covered a very wide variety of subjects both factual and fictional. Several well-known authors were represented, both living and from the past.
She selected a book of verse and settled herself in one of the half dozen or so large armchairs and opened it to read. The room was almost silent. Through its heavy door she could not hear the sounds of the household beyond; there was only the faint crackle of a fire in the grate and the occasional tapping of a leaf as the wind caught it and sent it against the window.
She lost track of time, and was startled when she looked up to see a young woman standing in front of her. She had not heard the door opening.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you,” the woman apologized. She was very slender, and quite tall, but her form was forgotten the moment one saw her face. She was one of the loveliest creatures Hester had ever seen; her features were subtle and delicate, yet full of passion. Her skin was fair with that radiance peculiar to auburn coloring, her hair thick in a wild halo around her head, the rich shades of bronzed leaves. “Miss Latterly?”
“Yes,” Hester said, gathering her wits. She laid the book aside.
“I am Eilish Fyffe,” the young woman introduced herself. “I came to tell you that luncheon is served. I hope you will join us?”
“Yes please.” Hester rose to her feet, then turned, remembering to replace the book.
Eilish waved her hand impatiently. “Oh leave it. Jeannie will put it away. She can’t read, yet, but she’ll find the place it came from.”
“Jeannie?”
“The maid.”
“Oh! I thought she was …” Hester stopped.
Eilish laughed. “A child? No—at least, yes. I suppose so. She’s only one of the housemaids. She’s about fifteen, she thinks.