On the north side of the thoroughfare, fine houses marched steadily up the Crescent, their imposing facades facing the harbor. Across the cobblestone street, there were no buildings, only scrub trees and rocks at the top of a cliff plunging down toward the sea. Here and there some merchants had cut down the majestic pine trees that blocked their view, and even set out benches or small gazebos, the better to take in the sweeping vista. There were also narrow rocky trails, little more than goat or deer tracks that led down to the rocks jutting out from the sea. A girl had to be careful or she could turn an ankle or worse, were she to try to walk those trails in dainty kid boots.
Once those goat tracks had been trod by men wearing hobnailed boots and bearing barrels of bounty from the sea. Three generations ago, wreckers had used the sea caves at the bottom of the cliff for moving loot from foundered ships – ships that a well-placed lantern on the rocks had lured to their disaster. Yvienne was minded of the old Port Saint Frey saying: Bandits to ballrooms in three generations. The rough forebears of today’s genteel merchants had won their fortunes by means most foul. Even the Mederoses had more than a few skeletons in their closet – or pistols in false-bottomed chests, she thought.
It was time to make her ancestors proud. Yvienne cast a look behind her, saw a break in the crowd, and slipped down the trail toward the rocks below.
Almost immediately she was plunged into a different world. The noise of traffic from the carts, carriages, and litters was subdued. Instead she heard the crashing waves and the lonely cries of the gulls. She picked her way carefully, hugging the rocks to avoid detection from above.
Finally, Yvienne stood on the shore, perspiring and eager. Across a small inlet she could see where the cliffs curved around, and there – a dark portal. At high tide she would have to swim to reach it, but for now, she could wade. Yvienne picked up her skirts and waded out into the froth. It was cold, but not bitterly so, as it was sun-warmed in the shallows. She was wet to her waist by the time she reached the cave, and ducked inside. There was enough light from the cave mouth to let her see what she had, and Yvienne smiled, all the time making a mental inventory of what she needed to create a staging area.
“Oh yes,” she said, with immense satisfaction. “This will do. This will do quite well.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
True to her promise to Hayres, the next morning Yvienne walked round to the servants’ entrance at the TreMondi townhouse at seven of the clock sharp, carrying her satchel filled with schoolbooks, foolscap, and paper. She had no doubt the TreMondi schoolroom was well supplied, but these books were her old friends. She had hidden them from Madam Callier. They were worn, dog-eared, and stained, but they gave her courage.
The housemaid opened the door. She was wide-eyed, scarcely older than fifteen and didn’t stop chatting from the moment Yvienne introduced herself as she led her to the kitchen.
“I’m Sienne. The family is still at breakfast, and the master said that you should be shown to the kitchen and wait for Mrs Rose. Do you need to eat? If I may say, you look rather slender. Was that too forward? Mrs Rose says I’m too forward and to mind my manners, because you’re quality, but you’re a governess now, so if you don’t mind my saying, I’m hoping you won’t stand on ceremony and put on airs, because I could use a friendly face in the house. I’ve only been in service for six months myself. I used to be at the Havartás but old prune face didn’t like the chatter. Fine by me – the work goes faster when you can talk, and I was happy to find another position. The work is hard but at least I get paid for it – Mam lets me keep a half-guilder out of my wages and I can do what I like with it. Do you enjoy children? You must, if you are going to be a governess. They’re all sweet, even if they’re–” she dropped her voice “–half Chahoki. My Mam didn’t want me to come to work here, but that was silly. People are people. Mam says I should be frightened, but I don’t think so. After all, master married her, and she’s rather lovely. So, what do you think?”
Yvienne opened her mouth to reply but was at a loss as to where to start. Fortunately, she didn’t have to. Sienne led her into the kitchen.
“Mrs Rose, here she is. She’s right on time. I told her the family is at breakfast and you wanted her first.” Sienne then stage-whispered to the housekeeper, “She’s rather quiet. I hope that’s all right for a governess.”
“It’s quite all right, Sienne,” said the housekeeper. “Please help Jenine with the laundry, will you? Thank you, dear.” When the maid hurried off, Mrs Rose took a steadying breath. Yvienne bit her lip to keep from laughing. It would not do at all to make Mrs Rose think she thought they were in any way equal or above Sienne. Perhaps I’ll grow tired of the constant chatter, she thought, but Sienne was a sweet girl, and for now it was refreshing.
“Welcome. Miss Mederos,” Mrs Rose said, “have you eaten? Would you like a cup of tea, to give you strength for your charges?”
“Thank you, Mrs Rose. I broke my fast at home. Do you wish me to wait here or should I take up my place in the schoolroom?”
“Oh, the schoolroom. I’ll
