The Paid Companion | Herophine

Chapter Nine

Josephine

The following morning Josephine surveyed her bedchamber, her hands on her hips, one toe tapping.

The dark, somber furnishings included an ornately carved wardrobe, a massive, heavily draped bed and a dark, dingy carpet. The wall paper was from an earlier era when lush, exotic patterns had been the height of fashion. Unfortunately the colors had faded to the point where it was impossible to make out the twining vines and flowers.

The degree of cleanliness in this room was of a piece with what she had seen through out the mansion. Only a minimum of dusting, sweeping and polishing had been done. There was a thick layer of grime on the frame of the octagonal mirror and on the headboard. The cloudy view through the window was evidence that no one had washed the panes in recent memory.

If she was going to be living here for the next few weeks she would have to do some thing about the deplorable condition of the household, she decided.

Opening the door, she let herself out into the gloomy hall. She was not looking forward to breakfast. The evening meal the night fore had consisted of tasteless stewed chicken, dumplings that could have served as ballast for a ship, vegetables cooked to an unwholesome shade of gray and a boiled suet pudding.

She and Anne had dined alone together in the somber dining room. Hero had had the good sense to take himself off to his club. She did not blame him. She would have preferred to dine elsewhere, also.

She descended the stairs, noting the dust that had collected between the balusters, and went in search of the breakfast room. She wandered into two closed, curtained chambers filled with draped furniture before she chanced upon Ned.

“Good morning,” she said. “Will you kindly direct me to the breakfast room?”

Ned looked baffled. “I think it’s somewhere at the end of the hall, ma’am.”

She raised her brows. “You don’t know where the breakfast room is located?”

Ned reddened and started to stammer. “Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am, but it hasn't been used in all the time that I’ve been working here.”

“I see.” She possessed herself in patience. “In that case, where will I find breakfast this morning?”

“In the dining room, ma’am.”

“Very well. Thank you, Ned.”

She went down another passage and walked into the dining room. She was somewhat surprised to see Hero seated at the end of the very long table.

He glanced up from the newspaper that was open in front of him, frowning slightly as though he did not quite know what to make of her there at that hour.

“Josephine.” He rose to his feet. “Good day to you.”

“Good day to you, sir.”

The door that led to the pantry swung open. Sally appeared looking even more frazzled and anxious than she had the day before. Her forehead glistened with perspiration. Long tendrils of hair had escaped her yellowed cap. She stared at Josephine and wiped her hands ona badly stained apron.