Meet Zoë — the Secret Daughter.

If you’ve read The Heiress’s Daughter, you will have read this scene already. But in case you haven’t, here’s the scene where Clarissa, who has gone with her maid, Betty,  to find an orphan to train as a lady’s maid, meets Zoë, and gets a shock. (Now read on . . . 

Just as Clarissa turned back to return to the matron’s office, Betty came hurrying up. “Miss, miss, you gotta come and see this.” She was bright with excitement.

Clarissa hesitated. “I need to go back to—”

Betty grabbed her arm. “No, it’s urgent. You gotta come see. You gotta!”

She led Clarissa back down the corridor, turned left and led her through a rabbit warren of narrow hallways. “I went exploring,” she said as she hurried them along. “The front parts of these places are all nice for the visitors, but the back part—that’s where you get the real story.”

“But—”

“Look!” She stopped and pointed dramatically at a dark-haired girl who was halfheartedly cleaning a bold charcoal caricature off the wall. The girl had her back to them, but it was clear she wasn’t making much of an effort to remove the sketch, but cleaning around it instead. The subject of the sketch was unmistakable—the pointy nose, the sharp chin, the severe look—it was Miss Glass, wickedly unflattering, but uncannily like her.

“Yes, very clever,” Clarissa murmured, “but we really must get b—”

“Not the picture—the girl!” Betty darted forward, grabbed the girl’s arm and swung her around to face Clarissa.

The breath left Clarissa’s body. For a moment she felt almost dizzy. It couldn’t possibly be . . .

“See, I told you, miss. Unbelievable, ain’t it?”

Scowling, the girl shook off Betty’s hand. “Leggo of me, you.” She glanced at Clarissa, taking in her fine lady clothes, and her lip curled in scorn. “What are you starin’ at, lady? Come to gawp at us poor orphans, have you? Well, bugger off.”

“No. I’m just—” Clarissa swallowed, took several deep breaths and fought to calm herself.

“D’you see what I mean, miss? It’s uncanny, ain’t it?” Betty murmured.

Clarissa just stared, unable to think of a thing to say. Unlike the girls in the sewing room, this girl’s clothing was patched and worn and fitted her badly. But it wasn’t her dress or the sketch Clarissa cared about: it was the girl herself who fascinated her. “Did you draw that?” she finally managed. “It’s very clever.”

The girl smirked. “Old Glass don’t think so.”

“Who are you?” Clarissa blurted.

The girl’s green eyes narrowed. “Zoë. What’s it to you?”

“You do live here, don’t you? You’re one of the . . .”

“Orphans, yeah, it’s not a dirty word, you know.”

“I know,” Clarissa said. “Both Betty and I are orphans.”

The girl made a rude sound. “Yeah, you look it.”

“I’m a foundling, and I started out in a place like this,” Betty said. “I hated it. But now I work for miss.”

The girl eyed her cynically. “So?”

Clarissa stared. That scowl, those eyes, that cynical curl of the lip; they were as familiar to her as her own reflection. It was Izzy to the life, Izzy as she had been perhaps four or five years ago. But for the age difference, this girl and her sister could be twins.                  

“Miss Studley, are you there, Miss Studley?” Miss Glass appeared from around a corner, breathing heavily. “Miss Studley, visitors are not permitted in this—” She broke off and glared at the girl. “Susan Bennet, haven’t you cleaned that mess off yet? Get rid of it at once and return to your lessons. Miss Studley, if you would care to step this way, I have gels waiting to be interviewed.”

Clarissa stepped forward and put a hand on the young girl’s arm. “No need, Miss Glass. I have chosen this girl.”

The girl called Susan—or was it Zoë?—pulled her arm away, eyeing Clarissa suspiciously. “Chosen? What for?”

“Susan Bennet?” Miss Glass exclaimed. “Oh no, no, no! She is not at all suitable for your needs. She has neither the temperament nor the aptitude to become a lady’s maid.”

“Lady’s maid?” the girl echoed. “I don’t want to be a—”

Betty pinched her. “Shut it!” she said in a low voice. Clarissa hoped Miss Glass couldn’t hear. “Me and Miss Clarissa are gettin’ you out of here.”

Susan/Zoë narrowed her eyes.

“There are other, much more suitable gels,” Miss Glass began.

“I’m sure there are,” Clarissa said pleasantly, “but my mind is made up; this is the girl I want.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow—”

Clarissa raised her brows and said in as cool a voice as she could manage, “I thought you said you wished to place all your charges in respectable employment.”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it’s settled. I will take Miss Bennet. Immediately, if you please.”

“Benoît,” the girl muttered.

“You don’t understand, that girl will be nothing but trouble; she’s unruly, ungovernable, wayward, disobedient and willful. She’s headstrong, obstinate—”

“You will not be held responsible for any problems that may arise,” Clarissa said briskly, hoping her anxiety didn’t show. She turned. “Collect your things, Miss Bennet, you’re coming with us.”

The Secret Daughter comes out on Christmas Eve, but you can preorder it and it will arrive as an early present. Amazon link.  Other e-book links. The paperback will be available at all your usual bookshops.
And if you haven’t yet read The Heiress’s Daughter, you can buy it from amazon, or all other e-book retailers or get the paperback from your favorite bookshop.