His words are carefully weighted, and I can feel them tugging on my shoulders, willing me to shrink back. I don’t know whether he is asking me to stop being her friend because I, myself, am unacceptable, or because he suspects my connection to Lord Downpike’s threats. I hope it’s the latter.
I stand taller, pasting a smile any Alben would be proud of onto my face. “She is lucky to have you as a brother.”
He relaxes his shoulders in relief. “It was nice to see you again, Jessamin. I almost wish, if things were different—well, but they aren’t.” His look is wistful as he pats my hand on his arm. I draw it back and wave good-bye.
I slip in through the servants’ door, anticipating a reunion with Ma’ati and Jacky Boy. But first, to change into normal clothes.
I sneak into my room and am undoing the buttons on my blouse when I hear soft snores behind me. Screaming, I turn to find a strange girl in my cot.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand, hurrying to the narrow wardrobe and flinging it open. I recognize nothing in it. “And what have you done with my things?”
The girl sits up, hair a messy black halo around her head, clutching the blanket to her chest. “I’m sorry, milady, I only started last night, and I was told I needn’t wake until eight, please don’t fire me.”
“Jessamin?”
I whirl around to find Ma’ati standing in the doorway. “You replaced me already? I’ve only been gone two nights!”
“I don’t understand.” She takes my hand and pulls me out of my room. “The letter said you wouldn’t be returning to work.”
“What letter?”
“Here, I’ll show you.”
I follow her to her room where she pulls out a cream envelope with Finn’s double-tree seal. The seal is the only thing that keeps me from suspecting Lord Downpike meddling again. Violence brimming in my thoughts, I rip out the letter and scan the contents.
. . . no longer requires employment . . . studies will take up the bulk of her time . . . thanks you for the kindness and generosity . . . will be staying in room 312, which I have paid out in full to the end of the year.
“Spirits take that meddlesome dolt, I will wring his neck.”
“We moved your things up to the room, Jessamin, books and everything. We didn’t know what to make of it, but the instructions were quite clear and, well, it’s such a fancy room!” A door slams next to us and I meet a glaring pair of eyes as one of the chambermaids swishes away. Clearly not everyone is as pleased with my fortune as Ma’ati.
I rub my forehead. “And you’ve already replaced me?”
“I’m sorry, but the girl came with the letter and her references were all good. And Jacky Boy has been needing someone who can give more hours.”
“Well, you’ve done no wrong, of course. I have to get to class. We can sort it out when I return.”
Ma’ati smiles and hands me the key to room 312. “Oh, your friend was by last night to see you. Kelen?”
I grimace. He’s going to think I’m avoiding him. I do want to see him, really, but he feels rather low on my list of priorities right now. “Did he leave an address?”
“No. He wanted to wait in your room, but Jacky Boy wouldn’t let him. He’s very protective of you.”
I laugh. “Kelen isn’t good enough for him?”
She shrugs. I want to ask more, but I’m already running late. I kiss Ma’ati’s cheek and head to my room. No. Not my room. Finn’s room. I refuse to take the guest stairs, and instead make my way up the narrow hidden flight. Someone bumps me roughly from behind.
“Oh, beg pardon, milady. Only shouldn’t you ought to be using the stairs for proper folks?” The chambermaid glares at me.
I don’t have time to set her straight. I hurry up, angry at her and at myself and especially at Finn. “This isn’t funny,” I hiss in the general direction of my shadow as I walk into the room. “You have no right.”
My books are carefully stacked on the generous desk, but I try to ignore the opulence of the room. The sky-blue silk duvet and matching drapes. The mounds of feather pillows. The window seat perfect for reading. The dressing table. The private bathroom.
I fail at ignoring it. But I will not accept it. I grab my books and barely have time to change into my school uniform. My satin gloves—Eleanor found a near-match—look ridiculously out of place.
“And now you’ve made me late.” I throw one of the pillows at my shadow and stomp out of the hotel.
I arrive out of breath and cross as a hornet to pick up a book from my carrel in the library. When I see the back of someone sitting in my spot, it is too much. “Sir, if you tell me this is no longer my carrel, I cannot be held accountable for my reaction.”