Chapter Four
Four
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Sadie watched the Baron of Marstede storm away and tried to figure out what had just happened.
She hadn’t realized he was the baron at first—why would the lord of the manor be opening a side door?—and still didn’t know who he thought she was. But that hardly mattered. She still hadn’t delivered the soap and had stepped into an argument between the shop’s two best customers.
The dowager smiled at her, unperturbed by the way Sadie had spoken to Lord Marstede. Or perhaps Lady Marstede was just that good at masking her emotions. “Come in, dear.”
Sadie took a step back. The sweet invitation worried her more than if she had been yelled at. “Um, thank you, but that’s not necessary.” She reached into her pocket and this time finished pulling the soap out. “I’m just here to deliver this. From Ferman’s Exotic Goods.”
The dowager accepted the soap. “That explains things. But truly, I insist. You walked all this way. The least we can do is offer you a drink. It sounds like the water is almost ready.”
Sadie heard the hiss of a kettle not quite at boiling. Why was there already water over the fire? She gave Lady Marstede a frank assessment. This was not a woman used to hearing no. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I don’t think a drink is actually the reason you want me to come in.”
She laughed. “You are correct. I have an offer for you. Come in, and I’ll explain.”
Sadie stepped inside. She wasn’t sure she was making the right decision, but running away from the manor because she had been invited inside sounded worse. And she could use that drink. Pippa hadn’t included any beverages with her supper.
Once inside the manor, she realized she had knocked on the kitchen door, which made her wonder even more why the only two people she had seen so far were the baron and his mother.
The space was lit with a few soft glow-glyphs, tall tapers of quartz engraved with multiple light runes, instead of candles, and there was not actually a fire going.
Instead, the kettle sat atop its own heat-glyph, now whistling merrily.
The expense of outfitting the kitchen with so many charms drove home how out of place Sadie was here. Having tea with a baroness.
A baroness who deactivated the heat-glyph and set the kettle on the counter next to a tin of tea with surprising familiarity. Lady Marstede gestured Sadie toward a stool in front of the counter. “What is your name, dear?”
“Sadie Winsel.”
The dowager placed two porcelain teacups and a matching pot next to the rest of her supplies and spooned tea inside.
“Miss Winsel, I have a dilemma to which I believe you are the perfect solution. My son needs to marry. He’s lonely, but refuses to admit as much.
” Her words were as smooth as her movements as she poured water into the pot and replaced the lid.
“To help him realize the joys of companionship, I invited a handful of ladies to stay at the manor for the next month.”
“Is a handful more or less than half a dozen?” Sadie asked before she could think the better of it. That was the problem with speaking her mind. Once she did it a little bit, she forgot to censor herself entirely.
Luckily, the dowager’s eyes sparked with humor.
“If you asked Nicholas, he’d tell you a single lady is already more than a handful.
” The humor snuffed out, and she looked down at the teapot.
“The introductions today did not go according to plan. I made a slight miscalculation in whom I invited and now fear Nicholas won’t give anyone a chance. ”
In for a copper, in for a gold. Sadie hadn’t gotten in trouble for being blunt so far. “My lady, having met your son, I think the bigger issue will be any of the women wanting to marry him after spending time in his presence.”
She waved a hand through the air. “Piffle. He is a baron and is young.” That ninny, Abigail, would marry a toad if he had a title.
Sadie lifted a hand toward her amulet, then lowered it without tracing the familiar pattern on the underside.
The power she had coaxed into on her walk had run out, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to block her power.
The dowager wanted something, and she had the feeling that what Lady Marstede said would only be half the story at best. Lady Marstede was also a very controlled, contained person.
Only the strongest surface thoughts drifted past her natural shields.
Sadie picked up the teapot and poured. “What is it you want from me, my lady?”
“I want you to continue to pretend to be one of the ladies I invited.” The perfect contrast to the rest.
“I’m not a lady,” Sadie pointed out, lifting her teacup. Having heard the dowager’s thoughts, she knew that was the point, but it was the logical thing to say.
Lady Marstede waved her hand through the air again, and Sadie made a note to try that gesture herself.
Far more elegant than the snort she’d have indulged in.
“We’ll say you are the youngest daughter of Charles Pentry.
He’s the younger brother of the Viscount of Algimon.
The family is minor enough that no one will wonder that you haven’t moved in society before.
We will exaggerate your parentage, but you may still be you.
” I’m counting on it. “As the niece of a viscount, you wouldn’t even technically be a lady yourself. Just Miss Sadie Pentry.”
“That’s something at least.” She sipped her tea. “Lady Sadie is a horrible name.”
Perfect. She’s perfect.
The thought was enough to have Sadie lowering her teacup. She should have objected before now. The dowager assumed she’d agree to this farce. “I’d love to help you,” Sadie lied, “but I can’t play lady for the next month. I have a job.”
“I will compensate you for your time. Living in the manor for a month is surely a more pleasant way to earn your wages.”
“Lovely for that month, sure. But what about afterward? Mr. Ferman isn’t going to let me return to the shop if I disappear for so long.”
The tiniest crease formed between the dowager’s eyebrows.
She studied her tea. Then her face smoothed, and she looked over at Sadie once more.
“I shall tell Mr. Ferman that I need another maid while my guests are at the manor, and you impressed me so greatly that I must have you. He won’t dare refuse lending you to me for the duration. ”
A month spent away from the shop. Weeks without having to keep a smile on her face while her boss chastised her over problems he created or yelled at her for daring to suggest an action that could prevent future problems. No late nights or missed suppers.
Just a month of being the country bumpkin who made the genuine ladies look better in comparison.
No, not a bumpkin. The dowager had asked Sadie to do this after watching her argue with the baron. She didn’t want to make a fool of Sadie. She wanted her to be contrary and outspoken.
No pretending to be meek and demure.
Sadie met Lady Marstede’s hazel eyes. “If you can get Mr. Ferman to agree, I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. Let’s discuss the details. Your name is Sadie Pentry, and you arrived this evening from your uncle’s estate in Algimon.”
“Where is Algimon?” Was she going to have to memorize a bunch of facts about this family she was pretending to be a part of to sell the story?
“It is in the northwest, about a three-day journey from Marstede.”
Sadie tried to work out where that would be. “Near Baravant?”
She had lived in just about every corner of Sidrea at this point, trying to find a place where she was accepted, then simply one she could hide in when acceptance proved too hard.
Baravant had been her final attempt to live without completely denying her magic.
She had hoped that in the large town people might accept the potions she made and not ask too many questions about what power she had beyond her water affinity.
It hadn’t worked.
“A few hours from Baravant, yes.” Lady Marstede smiled. “You are familiar with the town?”
“I lived there for a bit about two years ago.”
“Wonderful. That will add verisimilitude to our story. I’ll send a footman down to Lamsdel for the rest of your wardrobe, then there will only be one detail left to account for.”
Sadie could think of several details, but first she had to correct the dowager on her assumptions about her wardrobe.
She glanced down at herself and finally understood why Lord Marstede had assumed she was yet another lady come to invade his home.
To work in Ferman’s exotic goods, she had to look like the type of woman who could afford those goods, who would know from experience their quality.
Her work dresses were finer than the clothes anyone else in the village wore outside of festival days.
Sadie glanced over at the expensive silk of the dowager’s gown.
A proper lady might wear the type of dress Sadie was in currently when she had no important engagements, but she’d own several dresses like Lady Marstede’s.
Wearing the same two gowns over and over would give Sadie away.
So would wearing any of her simpler clothes.
“I have only one other frock of this quality.”
Lady Marstede didn’t frown—like snorting, that must be another thing proper ladies didn’t do—but the impression of a frown was there all the same.
She was quite talented. Sadie’s determination to stay for the month wavered.
She’d never master behaving like a lady, even if she had years to practice.
Then she reminded herself that the dowager didn’t want her to be proper.
“I apologize. I should have considered that.” Lady Marstede looked Sadie up and down.
“We’re close enough in size that it will be short work to alter a few of my old gowns to fit.
The other ladies won’t realize they were once mine, and if they are a year or two out of fashion, so much the better for your role. ”
“Won’t the baron recognize your clothes?”
“Nicholas is not overly concerned with fashion. It will be fine. The only detail we need to worry about with him is your maid. He will notice if I reassign one of the staff to fill that role. We need someone else to play the part.”
“I think my arrival at the manor might also raise some questions,” Sadie pointed out. “Eventually, Lord Marstede will wonder why I knocked on the kitchen door. He’ll realize I came not only without a maid but also on foot.”
“Nonsense. He has no reason to look so closely. We’ll put about a story of a mishap with your carriage. That will explain away your arrival and the delay of your maid. He won’t ask for details.”
The story had holes large enough to drive her nonexistent carriage through, but Sadie didn’t say so. If the dowager thought it would work, then she’d trust her. Perhaps lords and ladies didn’t concern themselves with practicalities enough to notice the flaws in the explanation.
Pippa would tear it apart in moments.
That thought brought to mind an even bigger worry.
Pippa would panic if she got home from the tavern this evening and Sadie still hadn’t returned.
She bit her lip. “I know you probably intended to send someone to Lamsdel in the morning to talk to Mr. Ferman, but would it be possible for them to go tonight? My roommate, Pippa Leander, is going to worry if I don’t make it home soon. ”
“Of course, my dear. I would never want to leave your friend worrying. I can send a footman down tonight to talk to her and collect your other frock. He can spend the night at the inn and talk to Mr. Ferman in the morning when he also purchases a few more items for Miss Candile.” The dowager glanced at the lilac soap Sadie had given her.
So, the soap wasn’t for Lady Marstede at all, but rather one of her guests.
“Now,” the dowager said with a snap to her voice. “There is just the matter of finding you a maid. Are you well-known in Valway? Most of our staff come from that village.”
Valway was less than a half hour’s walk away from Marstede, but on the opposite side of the manor from Lamsdel.
“No.” Lamsdel had all the amenities Valway boasted and a few more besides. There was no reason for Sadie to visit. “I have helped your maid when she was searching for goods in the shop before, though.”
“Maisie will protect our secrets. But we still need an excuse to explain away why you need a maid. I had thought for a moment we could enlist one of the villagers, but then the entire staff would know within hours that you hadn’t brought your own maid, which will only make them speculate on the reasons.
Best to start with a story.” If only we had someone to play the part who’d keep the secret.
“What if Pippa pretended to be my maid?” Sadie said without thinking. She pressed her lips together, then decided it was a reasonable enough suggestion even for someone who hadn’t heard the dowager’s thoughts. “She doesn’t visit Valway either, and she wouldn’t betray our ruse.”
Moreover, Pippa wouldn’t be at risk of losing her job.
Her parents owned the tavern, and they’d happily let her work at the local lord’s estate for a month if she wanted to.
Her younger siblings were old enough to make up for her absence.
For all she kept pushing Sadie to accept a post at the tavern, the place didn’t actually require more help.
Sadie would feel bad that her friend would be stuck working as a maid while she pretended to be a lady, but Pippa would be madder if Sadie didn’t secure her this opportunity.
“If you think she’ll agree, that will work perfectly.”
“Pippa will definitely agree.”