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was.
    The grand tour of the new underhousemaid had
    culminated with this, the reveal of Leah’s temporary
    living quarters. She tried to contain her dismay as she
    looked around the tiny room, crammed with two beds
    and other people’s belongings.
    “You’ll share this bed with Henrietta,” Mrs. Harper
    said. “Teresa and Sara sleep in the other. You’ll have
    one drawer for your things.” She gestured to a simple
    wooden bureau in the corner. “Your uniforms are
    already inside. Dress— mind you take care— and be down
    for supper at the hour.”
    Mrs. Harper shut the door without another word,
    leaving Leah alone in the rapidly darkening attic
    room. She dropped the empty, beaten leather bag that
    Avery had produced to lend authenticity to her role
    as applicant for housemaid onto the floor beside her
    and crossed to the single, tiny window. After pulling
    it open, she ducked her head out to look at the city of
    London below.
    She bit her lip, excitement thrumming through her
    veins. Carriages rolled down the cobbled streets, beau-
    tiful horses tossing their heads as Londoners called greet-
    ings to one another. Lamp boys scurried along, propping
    small ladders against the posts and touching their lit wicks
    to the lamp heads. A baker’s boy ran past, his arms loaded
    with golden- brown loaves. It was picturesque, beautiful,
    everything she’d imagined.
    Her happy sigh echoed through the room. Who’d
    have thought that she’d be living such a dream?
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    “From the country, are you?”
    Leah nearly swallowed her own tongue in shock at the
    high- pitched voice behind her. She whirled and smiled.
    “Hello. Who are you?”
    The girl didn’t answer at first, just tilted her head
    quizzically, causing her too- big mobcap to flop over one
    eye. She shoved it back with a motion that was clearly of
    longstanding habit.
    “I’m Henrietta. You must be the new maid. Mrs.
    Harper sent me up to help you get settled.” The girl gave
    a small smile, revealing crooked front teeth.
    Faint discomfort nestled at the back of Leah’s spine.
    This girl looked only a few years older than Leah’s drama
    students at Concord Magnet Elementary School. She
    couldn’t be more than twelve, thirteen years old, and she
    worked here? Reminding herself that child labor laws
    were still a work in progress, Leah nodded.
    “Nice to meet you, Henrietta. Or do you go by Henry?”
    “What a daft question. I am a girl, so I am Henrietta.
    They said you was a sight dim, and weren’t they right
    and all.” The polite smile was gone, and in its place was
    a look of dislike that was more suited to Mrs. Harper’s
    drawn cheeks than Henrietta’s apple- shaped ones.
    Well well well , thought Leah as she drew herself up to her full height. The little match girl is more of a little spitfire .
    “Well, Henrietta, why don’t you show me around?”
    Leah kept tight eye contact with the little demon, daring
    her to challenge further.
    Aha , she thought as Henrietta looked away and
    marched to the bureau. Round one to Ramsey.
    “Your uniforms is here, caps and aprons there. Hair
    tucked all beneath your cap. You’ll be scolded it’s not
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    Gina Lamm
    done to Mrs. Harper’s liking. Oh”— the girl turned—
    “and one more thing.”
    She might as well have a blinking neon sign on her
    cute little forehead that read “I’m about to try to screw
    you over.” Leah crossed her arms and waited.
    “Mrs. Harper said to tell you that supper has been
    delayed. You’re to remain here until quarter past the hour.”
    Leah inwardly shook her head. Poor kid. She had
    talent but no control. Overplaying a part was worse than
    underplaying it. “Hold it right there.”
    Henrietta had been about to turn the doorknob to
    make her escape, but Leah’s “freeze or you’re dead meat”
    voice had been fairly well honed