Rules for a Proper Governess
“He wasn’t afraid—he knew in his blood and bones that there was a threat, but he also knew he could deal with it.
He made his way to his desk, unlocking and sliding out the drawer he always kept in good repair. Inside was a Webley pistol and a box of bullets. Fingers steady, Sinclair loaded the gun, tucked it into his dressing gown pocket, and left the room.
No one else hurried to see what the noise had been. Macaulay slept in a room off the kitchens downstairs, as did the cook and Peter, and they might not have heard. The maids and Mrs. Hill had comfortable rooms in the attics, likely too far away from the lower rooms to have been awakened by the soft sounds.
The house was dark, the stairwell lit by only one lamp, turned low, on each floor. Mrs. Hill liked to save on the gas, so most lights were extinguished when the household went to bed. If anyone got up in the night, rushed about, and tripped, that was their own fault, in Mrs.
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