am meant to live in this tiny room with no mirror? There is nothing but a cot, a washstand, a writing desk and a chair. Impossible! Where are my bathing quarters? Where is my clothing closet?”
“Use the hooks on the wall behind the door for the clothing you brought with you. You won’t need them while you’re here, since the academy provides appropriate attire for all the trainees.”
“But…”
“You shall have an opportunity to take up all your questions with the spymaster this evening. He has invited you to dine with him at six.” The older woman spoke in an awed tone, implying that such an honor was an extraordinary event.
“I’ll leave you to unpack your things and rest a bit. An under maid will call for you five minutes before six to show you the way to his private dining room. Please be prompt, Fairchild. The spymaster does not like to be kept waiting.”
“There’s no hot water in this washbowl. Will a maid bring me some?”
“That’s not our way at the academy. If you want hot water, you will have to fetch it yourself from the well outside the kitchen, which is in the basement. You may heat it if it doesn’t interfere with the chef.”
Olivia’s eyes opened wide as she pleaded, “Wait, Mrs. Hunnicut.”
“Yes?”
“What is this roll of…things on my cot?”
“The roll contains your bedding and your training clothes. Forgive me, but I have pressing duties to attend to. All will be made clear to you in due time. For now, make up your cot and have a bit of a rest before your dinner this evening.”
When the door shut behind the housekeeper, Olivia bit back tears of frustration. Bloody hell! What have I gotten myself into? Our under maids at Fairchild Manor live in quarters far better than this! Fetch my own wash water? I’d as soon go unwashed.
But she thought better of this and grabbed the pitcher. She trudged down four flights to the kitchen. No one paid any attention to her as she found the door to the outside at the far end of the galley. She placed the pitcher on the uneven ground under the pump. Exerting all her strength, she began to pump, but this produced no results at first. After several tries and without any warning, the water gushed out with such force, it tipped the pitcher over and soaked the hem of her gown. It took several attempts to fill the pitcher before she got the hang of it. By the time she reentered the kitchen, the staff was busy preparing dinner and all the fireplace hooks were too full for her to heat the water.
Back in her room, she took off her sodden gown and hung it on a hook, unrolled the thin mattress, lay down, curled up in a ball and sobbed her heart out.
“You!” Olivia blurted when she entered the dining room on the dot of six. She found herself facing the man who had tried to seduce her—and had very nearly succeeded—at the Hobbleton Ball.
Sebastian looked grim. “Sir, Fairchild. The trainees are instructed to address me as ‘Sir.’ You will do the same.”
“Lady Fairchild to you, sir.”
“Here you shall be known as Fairchild. All trainees are addressed thus and we make no distinctions.” He took his seat at the head of the table and nodded toward a seat at the opposite end.
He seats himself before he seats a lady in his presence? Man has no manners. She marched to her seat, took it and folded her arms in a gesture of defiance.
“We’ll dine first, after which you may speak.” They ate in silence, though Olivia was bursting with a myriad of questions.
At the end of the meal, Sebastian waited for the servants to withdraw. He raised an eyebrow and said, “Well?”
“Well what, sir?”
“This shall be your only opportunity to voice your complaints. You will not be given another.”
“Which complaint, sir, would you like me to address first, sir? How do I like my quarters, sir? How did I enjoy the warm welcome I received, sir? How did I feel about leaving my wardrobe and my abigail at home, sir? How did I like lugging my own icy cold wash water up four flights of stairs to my tiny cell, sir? How did I like my cot, which I was forced to make up on my own, sir?” She sat back, her eyes blazing.
Sebastian sipped his wine, put the goblet down, wiped his mouth and asked, “What did you do to come to the attention of the home secretary? He was most impressed with your credentials. Kindly furnish me with them.”
“I was employed in the home office, sir.”
“And what work did you do there, may I ask?”
“I handled sensitive materials.”
A light dawned in Sebastian’s mind. Of course! This was the clerk he knocked down when he left Sidmouth’s office in a blind temper that day. Does she know it? He thought not. His lips twitched when he recalled his glimpse of her derriere. But he didn’t let on.
“You were a file clerk, then. You may not find the rigors of Wilson Academy to your liking, Fairchild. If that proves to be the case, inform me and I will arrange to have you escorted home at once.”
Don’t celebrate my departure too soon, spymaster. I’m not a quitter. And you, sir, are far too eager to be rid of me! Defiance bubbled up within her. She raised her chin and said, “I am up to the challenge, sir. Have you no more answers to my questions, sir?”
Sebastian shrugged, thinking it a great pity he couldn’t take this sassy bit of skirt in his arms and make love to her once more. Too bad. She had such delicious breasts. The thought roused an involuntary response. He hoped he could rise from his chair without embarrassing himself. “You insult me with your foolish questions, and since they amount to nothing more than mere petty grievances, I have no intention of responding.”
“Then why have you invited me to dine? Sir?” The word took on the color of an insult.
“I did so in order to outline our rules. For one, there is no favoritism shown here. For another, the high standards our instructors set for you will be no different from the ones they set for all trainees. We run a tight, efficient operation here, Fairchild. If you cannot keep up, you will be dismissed. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly.”
“Perfectly, sir.” Sebastian said. “Forgetting to address me or your instructors as ‘sir’ is a serious offense and will earn you a penalty.” He could not fail to see the fire in her eyes. “Though you may find it difficult, Fairchild, your most pressing task is to learn to obey orders. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Breakfast is served at half past four, calisthenics begin promptly at five. Wear the regulation training clothes we have provided.”
“Do you mean half past four in the morning, sir?” That last word constricted her throat.
He had already risen from his seat. Pleased that his erection had subsided, he allowed himself a smirk. “Pleasure to meet you once again, Fairchild.” He reached the door, and added, “Don’t oversleep. If you miss breakfast, you won’t be fed again until lunch is served at half past noon.”
Olivia remained at the dining room table after the spymaster left, lost in the misery of her thoughts. This was not turning out as well as she had hoped. She hadn’t touched any of her wine during dinner. Now she reached for it, removed the stopper and guzzled it directly from the decanter. She rose un-steadily and trudged up to her room, disheartened, dispirited, disillusioned.
Her eye caught an unfamiliar sheet of paper on her desk that hadn’t been there before dinner. She picked it up. Tomorrow’s schedule. It read:
She shivered. Could she do all these things? All in one day? She had to. She couldn’t fail. She wouldn’t fail.
She sat on the chair at her desk and slowly