Free Velvet Shadows by Andre Norton

past Victorine to fling open the outer door also. A man in groom’s livery stood waiting.
    “Please tell your master that of course Teresa must come to me. As soon as possible—no, let me write a note!”
    Leaving the door open, she bustled to the desk by the window and seized upon a sheet of paper. Her pen scratched swiftly and she thrust the result into an envelope, went to hand it to the groom. When the door closed she rubbed her hands together.
    “Things always work for the best after all—” I think she spoke her thought aloud. Then, as if remembering us, she added hurriedly, “An old friend is staying here. He chanced to see my name registered and has done me a great service. I had a maid before I left two years ago, one I greatly trusted. Unfortunately I was going abroad for an extended stay and she could not accompany me as her mother was ill and she did not want to leave her.
    “But Mr. Knight met her by chance a week ago and she asked concerning me, since her mother is now dead and she wishes very much to return to my service. Oh, to have Teresa back again—with her I shall feel so safe!”
    I think she realized that revelation the instant she uttered it for her expression was momentarily confused and she added hurriedly, “Teresa is one I can trust with everything.” That sounded even more lame and she dropped the subject for another:
    “Mr. Knight has asked me to dine with him. Since he had much to do with the settling of my late husband’s estate, I must see him. Therefore I cannot be with you this evening.”
    She swept back into her room. As the door closed behind her Victorine gave a small laugh.
    “Well enough! I think we can do without you, dear Augusta.”

    She went back to her favorite stand by the window.
    “Tamaris, there is fog coming in again. Already the shops show lights and it is only early afternoon. Are there always such mists in this city?”
    She was right, as I saw when I joined her. The gaslights of the shops were waging a losing battle against gathering mists.
    “Tonight”—Victorine twisted one of the gilt tassels of the drapes—“there should be a full moon. But does one ever see the moon in this damp country?”
    She waited for no answer; instead she caught me by the hand, drawing me back to the warm security of the room.
    “Let us open all these.” She gestured to the parcels and boxes which had been brought up from the carriage. “I want to see my treasures again.”
    Tissue paper flowed about us as we freed from wrapping scented gloves with embroidered backs, a parasol, lengths of silk which Victorine fingered lovingly.
    “Amélie is very clever with her needle. She can use this—and some of that gauze, and these white roses—and put together such a dress! Yes, even that stern-faced brother of mine will have his heart moved to see me in it!”
    “Mr. Sauvage is not hard-hearted!” Was it only duty which brought that protest out of me? “All of these are of his providing, Victorine.”
    She glanced at me, her head a little atilt, her lustrous eyes wide, a smile on her full lips.
    “Yes, Alain is most generous.” But there was a slight trace of mockery in her answer. “I must remember always to be truly thankful for his generosity. If I am not, then it is your duty, Tamaris, to remind me. And when he returns I shall thank him properly as a good sister should. You shall see!”
    I thought it better not to enlarge upon the subject. Again she might well be trying to see how far my control over her extended. But I thought now, more than a little disturbed, that she was not yet ready to accept the family ties my employer wished to tighten. Perhaps there was more that I could do, or should have done. An older and wiser companion should have been chosen for this task.

    Her smile widened. “Poor Tamaris, you are so easy to tease. I know well that Alain wishes me to be happy—within the limits of his own world. And this has been a good day. Me, I like San