The Foundling by Ann Leary

Author:Ann Leary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribner / Marysue Rucci Books
Published: 2022-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Dr. Vogel sent Charlie around to collect me in the car, since it was too cold and too far to walk with my suitcase and other belongings. Hal came home as I was packing and he helped carry my things. I’d only been there five months, but it felt like much longer. Not just because I had many more books and trinkets now—it just surprised me that I’d allowed myself to grow so attached to the Goodwins in such a short time.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mare,” Hal said, giving my shoulder a friendly pat. “I know Betty’s gonna miss you something awful.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m not going far,” I said, with a deliberate cheeriness. I knew he was just trying to be nice. I knew he was relieved that I was leaving. “I’ll see you and Betty all the time, I’m sure.”

Charlie ignored me when I climbed into the seat next to him.

“Hello, Charlie,” I said. He grunted a response of some sort as we pulled away from the curb.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be somewhat awkward living in the doctor’s house,” I said. “Of course, I won’t see her much, I’m sure. I understand that I’ll be staying in staff quarters, quite removed from her rooms.” Charlie was one of the more active distributers of employee gossip, and I wanted it to be known that I hadn’t been promoted, in any way, above my former position. I was still one of them, and certainly not in league with Dr. Vogel or (God forbid) Miss Hartley.

Charlie gave me a little dismissive smirk. What an impudent child he is, I thought. Why had I bothered even trying to engage him in conversation? From now on I would do as Dr. Vogel did—speak to him only when absolutely necessary. Anything else was a waste of breath. I would do the same with most of the other staff. Why bother with them? I was the secretary to Dr. Vogel; I had been promoted to that position because of my hard work and skills. Now I was about to move into her grand residence. Of course, they were bound to be jealous, there was nothing I could do about that.

When we arrived at the doctor’s house, Charlie carried my suitcase and a bundle of my books up to the front door, while I carried coats and a box containing my letters and other papers.

Charlie used the heavy brass knocker on the door, and, after a brief moment, a young woman in a maid’s uniform opened it. She was a petite blonde—one of the two maids I’d seen on Sundays when I picked up the doctor to go to town.

The two black terriers were yapping and circling us. I stood very still. Charlie gave the maid a quick nod and handed her the books. She just stood there holding them, but she didn’t invite us in. Instead, she was giving me the once-over. I smiled at her and waited to be introduced,

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