The Misbegotten by Katherine Webb

confidence that made Starling squirm and want to hide behind Alice’s skirt. But she didn’t. She faced them squarely, though it took every ounce of her will. ‘Please do not take me away from here,’ she added, and Alice shushed her hastily, smiling.
    There was a pause, then Lord Faukes gave a sudden har of laughter that made her jump.
    ‘How old are you, child?’ he asked.
    ‘We think I might be seven, sir,’ Starling replied, which made the man chuckle again.
    ‘Poor, rootless creature. No wonder you like it here, and want to stay, if you’ve been living out of doors, and beaten, until now. The question is, have you any right to stay? Hmm?’ He leaned forward in his chair, and Starling was fascinated and horrified by the way his belly bulged out behind his shirt and waistcoat, and rolled down over his trousers.
    ‘Lord Faukes, Starling is—’ Alice began, but the old man cut her off.
    ‘Now, now, Alice. You have said your piece.’
    ‘I am learning to cook and clean, and to read and write,’ Starling piped up in desperation.
    ‘Is that so?’
    ‘The child is clearly no idiot, for all her low birth. She certainly seems bright enough to acquire the skills she might need . . .’ said Jonathan, but his grandfather waved him to silence. The young man cast an apologetic glance at Alice, whose eyes were huge. There was another pause as the old man seemed to think. His gaze never once left Starling; she did not blink, or look away. After a while, he grunted.
    ‘She’s bold enough, I’ll give her that. But this is not one of your orphaned chicks or broken-legged rabbits, Alice. She is a child, and will grow to be a woman. What then? Will you take responsibility for her, for all those years until she is grown? Think, before you answer.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Alice said at once, placing her hands on Starling’s shoulders. The old man gave an exasperated shake of his head.
    ‘And you, Bridget? You can usually be relied upon to think more with your head, and less with your heart. What say you?’ Bridget was still standing by the door, her hands clasped in front of her. All eyes turned to her, and she shifted uncomfortably.
    ‘Bridget?’ said Alice, quietly imploring.
    ‘I think . . . I think the girl could do well. If she were allowed to stay on. She’s quick to learn, and does as she’s told, for the most part.’
    ‘Which gives no answer one way or the other; but I can hear what you would rather say.’ Lord Faukes leaned back in the chair, and drummed his fingers on its carved wooden arms for a moment. ‘Very well, then,’ he said, with a nod. Alice gasped.
    ‘She can stay?’
    ‘She can stay. But—’ He was cut off as Alice flew across the room and threw her arms around him exuberantly.
    ‘Oh, thank you! Thank you, kindest and best of men! Thank you, sir!’ she cried, covering his face in kisses until he had no choice but to laugh, and pat her shoulders.
    ‘There, there. A little more decorum, Alice! She can stay but she is to be a servant in this house, not a sister.’ He raised a warning finger. ‘A thing that is born wild, stays wild, and can never be entirely trusted. She can be a helper to Bridget, until she is ready to go abroad and find her own position. You shall have a little more money for her upkeep, which will be all the salary she shall have. You will make no effort to turn her into a lady, for she will never be one. Do I make myself clear?’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ said Alice. She had come to rest on her knees beside him, with her head pressed to his thighs and her arms clasped around him. In the pause that followed, Lord Faukes looked down at her with an expression that was helplessly fond, and affectionate. A deeper flush of colour crept into his cheeks, and when Starling glanced at Bridget, she saw that the older woman wore a hung, guarded expression, and hovered on her toes as if fighting the urge to step forward and pull Alice away.
    During the time it had taken to decide the