Free Royal Blood by Rhys Bowen Page A

fishmonger down the Old Kent Road.”
    “And the third employer?” I hardly dared to ask.
    “Well, I couldn’t very well stay there,” she said. “Not after I set her evening dress on fire.”
    “How did you do that?”
    “I dropped a match on the skirt by accident when I was lighting the candles,” she said. “It wouldn’t have been too bad, but she was wearing it at the time. She made a terrible fuss too, although she was hardly burned at all.”
    I swallowed hard and wondered what to say next. “Queenie, it appears that you are an absolute disaster,” I said. “But it so happens that I’m desperate at the moment. I expect your aunt told you that I am due to go abroad to a very important wedding and I leave next Tuesday. It is essential that I take a maid with me to look after my clothes, help me dress and do my hair. Do you think you could do that?”
    “I could give it a bloody good try, miss,” she said.
    “Then let us get a couple of things straight—one, there will be no swearing or any kind of bad language, and two, I am Lady Georgiana so you are expected to call me ‘my lady’ and not ‘miss.’ Do you understand?”
    “Right you are, miss. I mean, my lady.”
    “And you do understand that this job means going abroad with me, to a foreign country?”
    “Oh, yes, miss. I mean, my lady. I’m game for anything. It will be a bit of a lark, and wait till I see Nellie ’uxtable down the Three Bells, her what’s always boasting that she took a day trip to Boulogne.”
    At least one had to admire her pluck, or maybe she was just completely clueless.
    “And as to money—I do not intend to pay you any money at first. You will travel with me and receive your uniform and of course all your meals. If you prove satisfactory I will pay you what you are worth on our return and what’s more I shall write you a letter of reference that will guarantee you a good job anywhere. So it’s up to you, Queenie. This is your chance to make something of yourself. What do you say? Will you accept my terms?”
    “Bob’s yer uncle, miss,” she said and thrust a big meaty hand in my direction.
    I arranged for her to come to Rannoch House on Monday. She plonked the shapeless hat on her head and turned back to me at the door. “You won’t regret this, miss,” she said. “I’ll be the best ruddy chambermaid you’ve ever had.”
    So I was due to undertake a journey fraught with avalanches, brigands and wolves with possibly the world’s worst chambermaid who was likely to set fire to my dress. It would be interesting to see if I came out of it alive.

Chapter 9
    Rannoch House
Monday, November 14
Due to leave for Continent tomorrow. Still no maid. Still
haven’t heard from Darcy. Still raining.
How tiresome life can be.

    By Monday morning I had still not heard from Darcy. Now I would be going abroad without letting him know. Really he was a most infuriating man. I simply didn’t know what to make of him. Sometimes I thought he was really keen on me, and then other times he’d disappear for ages. Anyway, there was nothing I could do about him now. If he hadn’t chosen to give me his address or even come to see that I had survived the visit from Binky and Fig, then too bad.
    Queenie turned up a little after nine. It took some time rummaging through the housekeeper’s closet to find a uniform that fitted and looked suitable, because she was a hefty girl, but eventually we poured her into a black dress, white cap and apron. She looked very pleased with herself as she stared in the mirror.
    “Stone me. I look just like a real maid now, don’t I, miss, I mean, me lady?”
    “Let’s hope you learn to act like one, Queenie,” I said. “I take it you have brought your case with you with the items you’ll need to travel. You can now come up to my room and pack the clothes I shall need. Bring that tissue paper with you so that they don’t become creased.”
    We spent a rather fraught morning as I stopped