I was too weary to admonish her. Too weary to think. Rushing about London in the cold rain hadn’t helped, nor did the brandy on top of it. I needed hot tea, a meal, and a good sleep, but I doubted I’d see any of it.

“I must decide what to do.” I rose, my legs shaking so hard I had to clutch the tabletop to remain upright. “Lodging to sort out. Need a place to stay while I consult with my agency.”

If they’d continue to have anything to do with me. I was known to be particular, and getting myself dismissed—the reference Mrs. Bywater promised notwithstanding—would not do me well in the agency’s eyes.

I might have to accept a lesser post, in a house where I was the only menial. Some cooks were required to do all the kitchen tasks plus those of a scullery maid, including shovel her own coal. I was always so proud of my cooking and my ability to command a high wage that I never even considered such a position.

Pride, went the proverb, goeth before a fall. I certainly felt the sting of that fall, under the warmth of the brandy.

“You look unwell, Mrs. Holloway.” Mrs. Redfern’s voice cut through the buzz in my head. “You should take yourself to bed. The weather was nasty today. Tess, my girl, weeping and cursing does no one any good.”

“Makes me feel better,” Tess growled. “She’s right, Mrs. H. You’re all pale and flushed at the same time. Come on. To bed with ya.”

She put aside her ranting to take me by the arm and lead me out. Mrs. Redfern came with us, and Mr. Davis led the way up the back stairs to open the door at the top.

“You sleep, Mrs. Holloway,” he said. “Everything will be well.”

I did not believe him. I tried to break away and walk myself to the next set of stairs, to begin the long climb to my chamber, but Tess and Mrs. Redfern stuck by me.

It was well they did. I was so weak by the time we reached the top of the house I might have tumbled down the stairs without them. They led me into my chamber, and Tess helped me out of my damp clothes while Mrs. Redfern turned down the bed.

Somehow, I had on my nightgown, the garment warm from hanging next to the chimney all day. Tess bundled me into bed, tucking me in.

“You have a sleep, Mrs. H. The mistress can’t turn you out when you’re ill. We won’t let her.”

The mistress could do anything she pleased, and well I knew it. I’d witnessed servants, even the old and infirm, turned onto the streets for lesser crimes than becoming too close friends to one of the family.