The Governess Club: Louisa Read Online Free Page A

looking for food and drink.”
    She stood and he followed her. She picked up her tea tray. “If there is nothing else, sir, I should start getting the kitchen prepared so Mr. Packard can begin the evening menu.”
    “Of course.” He watched as she moved to the door. “Just keep in mind, Mrs. Brock, a fresh start can be a good thing.”
    Louisa didn’t stop as she exited the office, happy in the knowledge that she hadn’t betrayed the state of her muscles. She took the tray over to the sink and washed up, thinking she would have to be careful where Mr. Taylor was concerned. He was more observant than he appeared to be.

 

C HAPTER F OUR
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    L ouisa sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her brow. This was the last room. She glanced around the small space, now glistening in the sunlight provided by the window. For the life of her, she could not feel a sense of accomplishment in completing her task. Now that they were all clean, she knew it was only a matter of time before the rooms were used and once more needed to be cleaned. To be certain, they would not likely need such focused attention again, unless there was a particularly inconsiderate guest, but still.
    She was too tired and sore to revel in her success. Good Lord , she thought, rubbing her neck. I was not meant for service.
    With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and collected the cleaning supplies. She tossed the dirty water out the window and carried the rest down to the kitchen. Mr. Packard gave her a nod when she came in, his pipe dangling from his mouth. “Mrs. Brock, I need the big pots from the office.”
    She forced herself to smile at the portly cook and nodded. “Of course, right away.” It stuck in her craw to be deferential, but she needed the money. Mr. Taylor had given her wages yesterday, reduced due to her room and board, but it felt good to have her finances on the rise again, meager as her earnings were.
    Depositing the cleaning supplies in a closet, Louisa went to the office and poked her head in before entering. She had avoided Mr. Taylor as much as possible since their encounter in here several days ago. She had succeeded surprisingly well, it being an average-sized inn and they the only three employees. Besides, if he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her.
    Several casks inhabited one corner of the office, filled with what, she did not know. Above the casks was a shelf filled with dried spices, sugar, flour and other dry goods in clay pots. Above even those, several large pots hung from the ceiling. Stretching on her toes, Louisa could not even brush the lowest one with her fingers.
    Pressing her lips together, she scanned the room for something to knock the pot off its hook on the ceiling. No broom or other such long-handled device was in reach to aid her. Spying Mr. Taylor’s chair, she dragged it over and lifted her skirts to step up onto it, using her free hand on the back of the chair to steady herself. The chair itself wobbled, enough to give her a moment’s doubt, but she persevered. She took hold of the shelf and reached up to the pots. Her fingers just managed to brush the bottom of the lowest one.
    “How in the blazes did they get up here?” she muttered to herself before extending her arm again, this time going up on her toes.
    Her fingers were nearly close enough to dislodge the pot. If she were quick enough, she would be able to catch it as it fell. If not, well, after spending so long with children, her ears could withstand one loud commotion.
    She stretched farther, wishing to get that extra inch that might serve her purpose. She tightened her grip on the shelf, hoping it might boost her farther. The chair wobbled beneath her, teetering to one side. “Come on,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Almost there.” She shifted to balance the chair better, but the wobble worsened. She managed to lift the pot off the hook a bit, but lost her grip and it settled back down. “Oh no you