The Shadow and the Star by Laura Kinsale Read Free Book Online Page B

consider and the other ladies would listen humbly to her discourse and conclusion on the topic. "We want the best for you, Leda my dear. Miss Myrtle would wish us to take every care for your future. You must come back Friday next, and we shall see about it then."
     
    Leda spent the rest of the day sitting in the anteroom of Miss Gernsheim's Employment Agency. Her interview with Miss Gernsheim did not go smoothly from the moment that lady understood that Leda would have no written character from her former employer. Typist, Leda was given to understand, was a most sought-after position, generally given to those with prior training and experience. Without even a character… Miss Gernsheim tapped her fountain pen against the side of her inkwell and looked grave.
    Leda mentioned her South Street connections.
    "I have not heard of Lady Cove," Miss Gernsheim said unencouragingly. "Is the family listed in Burke's?"
    "Certainly," Leda said, stung. "They have held the barony since 1630. And Lady Cove is a Lovatt on her maternal side."
    "Indeed. You are related, then?"
    Leda looked down at her gloves. "No, ma'am," she murmured.
    "Ah. I thought perhaps an ancestral connection would account for your command of the family tree."
    "No, ma'am," Leda said again, and was silent.
    "I believe 'Etoile' is also an unfamiliar name to me. What district does your family inhabit?"
    "My family is no longer living, ma'am."
    "How sorry I am," Miss Gernsheim said in a businesslike tone. "But what are your origins? In a case such as yours, with little experience and a history of resignation with prejudice, prospective employers will wish to know who you may be. There is all sorts of trouble these days; all sorts of disagreeable persons are known to be at large. Socialists. Housemaids who murder their mistresses. The dangerous classes. You've heard of Kate Webster, of course."
    "No, ma'am," Leda said.
    "Have you not?" Miss Gernsheim raised her thin eyebrows and looked candidly surprised. "It was in all the papers. Richmond. Some years ago, now. The maid of all work—the one who cut up a poor old widow and boiled her in her own copper. And then there was Madame Riel�throttled by her woman right in her own house in Park Lane. This sort of thing makes employers most suspicious. You are not Irish, I hope?"
    "My origins are French, ma'am," Leda said steadily.
    "Can you be more specific, Miss Etoile? How long has your family been in England?"
    Leda began to find the little office stuffy. "I'm not certain of that, I am afraid."
    "You seem to be more conversant with the history of the Lovatt family than your own."
    "My mother died when I was three. Miss Myrtle Balfour of South Street took charge of my upbringing at that time."
    "And Mr. Etoile? Your father?"
    Leda sat helplessly silent.
    "Are you a relation of this Miss Balfour's, then? Can she not supply a character?"
    "No, ma'am," Leda said, and was horrified to hear a tiny flutter in her voice. "Miss Balfour passed away a year ago."
    "And you are not yourself a relation of the Balfour family?"
    "No, ma'am."
    "You were adopted?"
    "Miss Balfour took me into her home."
    The other woman looked impatient. "I cannot call this an auspicious background, Miss Etoile. Perhaps we would do better to seek positions for you that do not require the most stringent qualifications. Have you considered the shops?"
    Leda spread her gloved hands against one another. "I would prefer not to engage in shop trade, ma'am, if you please."
    "Come, come—this is too nice. You don't suppose your breeding puts you above it?"
    "I would prefer something more respectable than a shop, ma'am," Leda said stubbornly. "I really wish to be a typist."
    "If that is the case, you will have to present me with a strong letter of character from a high source. Lady Cove at the very least."
    "Yes, ma'am."
    Miss Gernsheim was making notes. "I understand correctly that Etoile is your mother's name, then?"
    "Yes, ma'am." Leda's voice had gone to a