Page 138 of Disturbing the Dead
I glance at Isla.
“Hmm,” Isla says, and Jack perks up before affecting an air of nonchalance, as if she isn’t champing at the bit for this. “I presume you are open to negotiation?”
“Sure.” Jack leans back, feet on the desk again. “Negotiate away, ma’am.”
“You will fulfill the complete duties of a housemaid, leaving no extra burden on Alice or Mrs. Wallace. We do not generally require a full day’s work, but it would range between four and ten hours a day.”
“I was working ten by the time I was ten myself. I would only ask that if I finish in a half day, I will be permitted to leave early and not linger about, waiting for more work.”
“Agreed. The pay is five pounds a quarter with board, double without.”
“Let us split the difference, and I need only a place to lay my head now and then and the occasional meal. I’d like to keep my lodgings elsewhere.”
“As for chronicling my brother’s adventures, that will require his permission.”
“Of course.”
“And if he agrees to it, I will play the role of editor.”
Jack stiffens. “I do not require—”
“Every writer does. As your editor, I will have the power to veto anything I deem unacceptable, either an intrusion upon our privacy or a misrepresentation or mockery of those involved.”
“So I cannot have Miss Mallory raising her rump in the air?”
“If it sells papers, go for it,” I say. “But you can’t have me doing it to investigate nonexistent evidence.”
She smiles at me. “That is fair.”
“Speaking of selling papers,” Isla says, “I will require a cut, as your editor. Ten percent to me and an additional ten to Mallory, who should gain something for the use of her adventures. Duncan will not care.”
“Neither do I,” I say. “Isla should take both cuts.”
Isla looks at Jack. “Ten percent to me. Five to Mallory. Five to the running of the household.”
Jack pretends to think it over, but I can tell she expected Isla to demand more.
“Sounds fair,” Jack says. “You have yourself a new housemaid and a new chronicler.”
“If Duncan agrees. Also, first we need to put the other chronicler out of business. At least in this endeavor.”
Jack’s smile is all teeth. “Leave that to me.”
It’s been a week since our adventure ended. A busy week for Gray, helping McCreadie and the procurator fiscal build their case. If one good thing came of those serialized adventures, it was that they brought more recognition to Gray’s work within greater law enforcement. I’m not sure how he feels about it, and it’s not something I can ask and expect an honest reply.
As for those serialized adventures, Gray has agreed to let Jack chronicle them. Someone will, and it seems better to have editorial control.
It’s Gray’s first full day off since everything ended, and he’s taken me to lunch. Now we’re walking home as I look toward the castle in the distance, glistening in the sun and snow.
“It’s such a pretty city,” I say.
Gray smiles. “With the snow to cover all the grime and soot.”
Even without the snow, I see the beauty in everything from the city to the people. A world in flux, changes coming hot and fast, the world evolving within and beyond their borders. Some, like Gray, race forward to embrace this new world, and others, like Lord Muir, walk backward and try to pull the world with them. Not so different from my time. Maybe that’s why I’m comfortable here. There’s so much I want to see changed, but also so much that I already see changing. Just like my own world.
When we arrive home, Gray tugs off his gloves and says, with utter nonchalance, “Have you checked the floorboards today?”
I tense.
