Page 63
Too bad the child had to work as a domestic, and it was likely if she’d ever had any formal education, that phase of her life was over. And yet, Faith felt certain the child was grateful for her position. In a grand house such as this, she was assured to always be well-fed and have a warm bed.
As Faith poured the fragrant tea into a plain white teacup, no doubt the servant’s crockery, she idly observed the staff and pondered the wisdom of dawdling for a few minutes to eat.
What were the chances someone else—namely Constantine—would pay a visit to the kitchen this early? Miniscule. Faith had left her chamber at ten after five and hadn’t encountered another soul other than Alma.
Confident she could enjoy breakfast uninterrupted, she plopped two lumps of sugar into her tea and stirred. She nearly sighed aloud when Cook placed a plate laden with ham, coddled eggs, sausage, toast, and the promised sweet roll before her.
“Take all the time ye need, miss.” Cook winked. “There’s more if yer still hungry.”
Examining the heaping plate, Faith laughed. “This will suffice.”
The cook returned a moment later with butter, preserves, and a bowl of sliced strawberries.
“Thank you.” Faith helped herself to two of the juicy red berries.
“Primrose Pumilia Pippenger, my sweet.”
Faith whisked her attention to the doorway.
Who…?
