Who: Mrs. Sonya Cage and you (boarders and maids; multiple threads encouraged) What: relaxing after dinner Where: Boarding house When: Thursday Evening Warning: Likely low Status: party post
Evenings at the boarding house were always meant to be relaxing, atleast, that’s what Sonya always planned for with her guests. Dinner was one of the meals that wasn’t automatically included in rent, and meant extra fare from the borders (as opposed to going to the hotel for meals), so she always made certain she and the maids put in a little more effort than the usual porridge, corn bread and sausages for breakfast. Tonight, the meal consisted of fried turnips and apples along with mutton chops, and once that was cleared away, mostly everyone gathered in the parlor to unwind at the end of the day. Some were free to borrow one of her late-husband’s books if they wished, play one of the few games she had out, or like herself, catch up on some needle work or sewing. Mostly, it was a time to talk over this this or that, and the fact that most nights her guests were all women meant they could relax without any men overhearing their conversations.
That evening (and the ones from the previous day) she had the maids with them as well, even though she was certain they’d rather take the evening off. Most of the time, if their chores were done, she allowed Sarah and Liz to go spend the evening with their families and return in the morning, but unless they had a chaperone to walk with them the entire time, she insisted they remain at the House. Yes, the women did work for her, but they were both younger as well and their wellbeing was just as important as those of her paying guests as well.
Another precaution was the revolver ('inherited' from her late husband) hidden in the fabric of her skirts and embroidery. Until the murder was found, she didn’t trust that some one looking to make trouble wouldn’t come in through the door, perhaps under the pretense of a place to rest for the evening. Perhaps it was unseemly to wield such a weapon, but this was her house and the people who lived here relied on her for their safety, and if anyone wished to complain they were free to leave.
For herself, Sonya was seated in the large arm chair by the fire (hot as the day was, nights could be just as chilly), some embroidery in her lap that she took advantage of doing by firelight. The work was the one frivolity she let herself enjoy, finding something almost soothing and meticulous in working the thread through fabric and watching the design grow little by little. With Cassie in bed at this time of the evening, it was also one of the few times she allowed herself on focusing on something that ‘didn’t require constant attention’.