Chapter Nine

VERONICA KICKED THE covers off her legs and turned to her side. She turned on the light, picked up her book, and began reading, hoping the police procedural mystery would distract her from the bonfire of humiliation and anger in her chest. In her thoughts she sorted through her interactions with Millie, trying to pick apart why she had let her guard down and believed Millie was different. Two months of thinking Millie was special, someone who saw past her appearance. No matter how she added up the sum total of their interactions, the end result was always the same. Veronica had been some notch to carve, a prize, a goal. Something to brag about the next time the other women of the house sat around the dining table.

“Not going to breakfast that’s for sure.” She spoke out loud. And then grimaced at the hollow pathetic sound of her voice. She groaned and stuck her bookmark back into her book before she marched to the small mirror over her sink. She studied her reflection briefly before bushing her teeth. Look at me. Wallowing. Feeling sorry for myself. I’m stronger than this. Fuck her. So what? It’s not the first time I’ve been used. So fucking what? Get over it. I’m not in jail for something I didn’t do. I’m safe. I’m in control. This place is so big I can avoid her if I want to. She finished brushing her teeth. She soaked a washcloth in cool water and wiped her face and the back of her neck. Sleep. It’ll be better in the morning. I’ve got a job I like. Books to read. Time to think. Three hots and a cot. What else do I need?

 

PHONE. MY PHONE. Who the hell is calling me this late? Anxiety kicked in as she imagined some horrible reason her family was calling her in the middle of the night. She scrambled out of her bed and stubbed her toe on the way to her desk. “Fuck.” She squinted at the screen. What the hell? She thumbed the phone on. “Do you know what time it is?” She didn’t bother to stifle her angry tone.

Millie’s voice rumbled through the phone. “Yes. Half three.”

Drunk. She drunk dialed me. From across the yard. “Are you drunk?”

“Aye. Guttered.”

“And you felt compelled to wake me at three thirty in the morning to tell me?” Veronica blew out a breath.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No. Yes. I’m pissed off. I don’t like being used. That was fucked up.”

“It wasn’t about the idiotic contest. Not for me. I wasn’t in it. I swear.” Millie’s tone was earnest. “It wasn’t for the contest. Please believe me.”

Is she lying? She’s trying to make it right. Even if she’s drunk. Veronica pursed her lips. “I believe you.”

“Thank you. Did you mean it? About the other?” Millie’s voice was a whisper, and Veronica had to strain to hear her.

“Mean what? I said I believe you.”

“No. When we… After we… Did you mean what you said? You want to know me? Like really know me?” Millie’s words were slurred but clear enough for Veronica to hear the fear laced through them.

“Yes. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Veronica twisted the hem of her sleep shirt in her hand. Millie mumbled something Veronica couldn’t understand. She heard what sounded like a lamp breaking and cursing. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?” More mumbling and cursing came through the phone. “Millie! Hey! Answer me,” Veronica shouted into the phone while reaching for her jeans, ready to cross the yard to make sure Millie was okay.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Did you fall?”

“No. Knocked the lamp over, dropped my phone.”

“Millie, don’t drink anymore. Please. Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning. I meant it. I want more with you. You. Not only your body. All of you. Go to sleep, okay?”

“’Kay. Night. You really mean it?”

“Yes. We’ll talk in the morning. Go to sleep. Good night.”

Veronica placed her phone back on the desk. She groaned when she thought of the early morning ride she had to prepare two horses for, in addition to the other barn work. She slipped under her covers, willing herself to sleep and failing. It’s going to be a long day. She’s interested in more. Will she be when she’s sober? She was tore up. Is she an alcoholic? Or was she freaked out? I’ve never seen her drink at supper. Maybe she doesn’t like wine. Veronica lay in bed, mulling over her conversation with Millie. She waited until she knew Myfanwy would be baking the day’s bread before she dressed and walked over to the kitchen. Coffee. I need coffee and answers. Myfanwy. Myfanwy’s her best friend.

 

MYFANWY GLANCED UP from where she was bent over sliding the day’s unbaked loaves into the oven when Veronica opened the kitchen door. “You’re early. I’ve not got the coffee going, but there’s tea in the pot.”

Veronica shifted her gaze to her hands, avoiding Myfanwy’s eyes. “Thank you. I’ll wait for the coffee.”

Myfanwy made a small sound in acknowledgment of Veronica’s words. The kitchen was quiet, and Veronica sat in silence unsure how to proceed, not even knowing what she wanted to ask or if Myfanwy would tell her. A large cooling rack held two dozen muffins. Veronica’s stomach rumbled. She knotted her fingers together to keep them from trembling. The silence in the kitchen was uncomfortable. Say something. Ask her. She’s her best friend. Say something.

Myfanwy kept her back to Veronica as she measured and ground the beans for the coffee press. The smell of the fresh ground beans filled the kitchen and Veronica’s mouth watered.

The electric kettle clicked off and Myfanwy poured the water over the grounds and placed the top on the coffee press. “You want something to eat?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble. I can wait for staff breakfast.”

“Then why’re you here? Out of coffee in your room?” The directness of Myfanwy’s gaze as she placed a coffee cup in front of Veronica made her squirm.

Veronica held Myfanwy’s gaze. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Myfanwy pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “If you’re here because you think I’ve got some magical advice for you or inside information about Millie, you’re going to be disappointed.” She leaned close, invading Veronica’s space and dropped her voice low. “But know this, if you hurt her, there will not be a place in this house for you to hide.” The menace in her voice shocked Veronica, and then she remembered the fierce photo of Myfanwy she had seen in Millie’s room.

Veronica shifted back in her chair. “Understood.”

Myfanwy straightened up and tugged the hem of her chef’s coat. “Good.” She tapped Veronica on the shoulder. “If you wait a few minutes those chocolate orange muffins you like so well will be ready.” Her voice was cheery as if she had not threatened Veronica.

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

Myfanwy poured Veronica a cup of coffee and placed the French press next to the cup in front of her. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down across the table from Veronica. “Do you want to tell me what you thought I might be able to tell you?”

Veronica studied Myfanwy’s face. “She told me about the contest.”

Myfanwy snorted. “Those women are idiots. I told them it wasn’t right.” She reached across the table and touched Veronica’s arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t take it up with the Mistresses.”

Veronica met Myfanwy’s gaze, her sincerity giving her courage to say what she had to say next. “I thought Millie was with me last night because of the contest.” The thunderous anger twisting Myfanwy’s features made Veronica rush to finish. “But she told me it wasn’t about the contest.”

“Are you looking for me to confirm her story?” Myfanwy’s voice was sharp.

“No. I believe her.” Veronica relaxed as Myfanwy’s face shifted from angry to cautious.

“But? You must have some reason you wanted to talk to me.”

Veronica took a deep breath, fearful of angering Myfanwy again with her next question. “I was angry when I left her. I didn’t believe her at first. I left it bad with her. She called me early this morning. She was drunk. Is that a thing with her? Does she drink to excess?”

Myfanwy glanced up at the ceiling before she brought her gaze back to Veronica’s face. “She’s had struggles in the past.”

Veronica read what Myfanwy didn’t say in her expression. “I’m not judging her, Myfanwy.” She reached out and touched the other woman’s hand. “Thank you.”

Myfanwy shook off Veronica’s touch and stood up. “Muffin?” She busied herself with arranging two muffins on a plate.

Veronica traced the rim of her saucer. “Yes, please.” She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes to savor the taste. The door to the kitchen slammed open.

“I’m gasping, please tell me there’s tea ready.” Millie stopped as she caught sight of Veronica. A blush crept from her collarbones and spread to her hairline. Her eyes were watery, and she appeared rough around the edges but better than Veronica expected after her drunken phone call.

“Morning, love. Tea’s fresh, help yourself,” Myfanwy called over her shoulder.

“Good morning.” Veronica pushed the chair next to her away from the table and nodded at it with her head, a silent invitation for Millie to sit with her.

Millie inclined her head toward the chair and then back to Veronica’s face. A hint of a smile played about her mouth as she sat down next to Veronica. “A very good morning.” Under the table, Millie reached over, clasped Veronica’s hand, and laced her fingers through Veronica’s and squeezed once before she busied herself pouring her tea.