Ghost on a Swing by M.L. Bullock

Author:M.L. Bullock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M.L. Bullock
Published: 2021-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Mrs. Bedford was a no-nonsense kind of woman, that much I could tell right away, but she wasn’t nearly as strict as Elena Harper. There was no tutor or governess in residence at Briarwood, but according to Mrs. Bedford, there would be a new one retained in the spring. I imagined that my presence had afforded the household welcomed financial privileges. From the worn carpets and low lamps, it wasn’t a difficult scenario to imagine.

After only the first week—a few days, really—I knew how things operated here. Miss Amy Bedford, the only child of the Bedfords, had many friends and visited them quite regularly. She was rarely at the house and was denied nothing. Despite her tendency to be spoiled, she was a polite and friendly girl. A bit too eager to please, but that would serve me well. Amy did not mingle with the other girls, only at the breakfast table and at supper if she was present. After a few days of complaining about my sore back, and endearing myself to Amy in small ways, she agreed to trade beds without much coaxing. In exchange, I listened intently to her stories; of course, they were all about her friends, people I did not know. I agreed with her that Pippi Baxter had a loose tongue and that Marjorie Jorgenson had no breeding whatsoever. I feigned interest in the slightest details, and we stayed up late many nights discussing meaningless conversations and social situations. I wondered how shocked she would be to discover that I had no experience outside of the small arenas in which I operated. Yes, Amy was easily impressed and easy to lie to. I thought perhaps I had made a true friend, one who would help me enter into local society, but I was wrong.

I asked if I could meet her friends, this Pippi Baxter and Marjorie Jorgenson, in order to observe them more closely—for her benefit, of course—but Amy avoided my question politely.

More’s the pity for you.

Amy Bedford had a secret. She had quite a fondness for the family’s farmhand, a young man named Billy. The young woman had not told me this, but I was adept at reading between the lines. She hinted more than once about a secret crush, an unrequited love. Her lingering near the window and rubbing the curtains lovingly as she peered toward the barn were easy tells. Unfortunately for Miss Bedford, she had not had the benefit of spending endless hours at the poker table observing General Harper as he defrauded his friends merely by observing them.

Now that I had my bed, I distanced myself slightly from Amy. I did allow her to try on one of my gowns once my possessions were safely in my keeping, but she was sadly mistaken if she believed I would ever give her permission to wear one if she continued to deny me entrance into her social circle.

Oh, and I was so bored here with these mindless children. I had not yet made up my mind whom I would kiss first, Billy or Mr.

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