Interlude
INTERLUDE
T he student slumped back in the rowing boat, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not like you. They’ll never accept me.”
Determined blue eyes met defeated honey-brown ones as the coxswain shook his head. “You underestimate my position here at Hatherley Hall. As my closest friend, you deserve to rise through the ranks, no matter ? —”
“My status? My lower class? The fact I am here as a scholarship student while my twin sister works herself to the bone on the switchboards instead of completing her education?”
The coxswain leaned forwards, tapping the student’s oars. “Back to the boat shed. You’re here, are you not? Don’t be ungrateful. It doesn’t become you.”
With a sigh, the student began to row back across the lake in the direction of the boat shed. There was silence except for the gentle drag of oars through the water until the student spoke again. “I apologise. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I know. I have a plan to make you untouchable. Revered.” A slow smile spread across the coxswain’s face. “When all the pieces are in place, you will hear from me.”