“You will come each day to instruct them.”
“But not on the sabbath.”
“Of course. Have you any objection to that arrangement?”
“We shall see you Monday week then – well, you shan’t see me; Mrs Travers will introduce you to your pupils.”
“Very well, Sir.”
“You may go.”
Ann Rhys was escorted from Mr Brindley’s study by Mrs Travers. They walked along the hall in silence, Ann still anxious from receiving her new master’s strict instructions. “Don’t let the Master upset you,” Mrs Travers said, once they were at the great door of the house. “Be assured, his bark is worse than his bite,” and she smiled.
“He says you will introduce me to Christina and John.”
“And that I will do,” Mrs Travers told Ann. “They’re good children. You’ll not be unhappy here, Miss Rhys.”
Ann walked away from Brizecombe Hall, following the long, straight drive that rolled out before it. Partway along, she turned to survey the frontage of the grand house. She counted thirteen windows on the upper level alone. Casting her gaze to the ground floor, Ann was certain she saw a curtain twitch at the window of what must be Mr Brindley’s study, where she and he had conversed less than five minutes before.