Free Barbara Metzger by Cupboard Kisses Page B

though, I better go change. Never yet knew a woman who could resist one.”
    Blass expressed his opinion by spitting tobacco leaves.
    “Where the hell is Fanny? I sent her to fetch the cursed tea hours ago. Meantime, Nick, you get everyone off the top floor and tell them to stay behind their doors till we fetch them, for goodness’ sake!”
    “Be a lot easier to kill ’er.”
    “And have the magistrates down on us? By Gad, Fanny, where have you been, fixing tea for Princess Charlotte?”
    “You said she was a lady, Mac. We couldn’t serve her out of a mug, could we? Angel had this pretty cup ’n saucer set, it’s a souvenir from Battlesea, she says. Only it had some little paper violets glued in, and the glue—”
    “Enough, Fanny! Take it in there and for God’s sake, don’t say anything!”
    “Don’t say nothing? What’ll I do if she asks a question? I mean, a real lady and all.”
    MacDermott would be bald soon, at the rate he was tugging. “She’s not a real lady, with a title and all,” he told the girl, “she’s just Harwood’s niece.”
    “Sure,” Nick put in, “with the hoity-toity manners of a royal duchess dressed in ragpicker’s leavin’s.”
    “Shut up, Nick. Go on in there, Fanny, before the tea gets cold. No, wait! Deuce, you can’t let her see you like that!”
    He fumbled in his pocket—damn, the woman had his handkerchief He pulled the ends of his cravat out from his embroidered waistcoat, only regretting for a second the hour he’d spent tying the wretched thing. He used the cloth to wipe Fanny’s cheeks before sending her into the parlor with a pat to her bottom. Then he wiped his own forehead in relief, leaving a red streak across his face.
    * * *
    Cristabel must have dreamed she was back at the school, for a young girl of perhaps thirteen or fourteen was standing in front of her. No, none of Miss Meadow’s students would dare to have freckles like that. They wouldn’t be wearing white blouses that fell off their scrawny shoulders, either.
    “I’m Fanny, ma’am, and I brung your tea.”
    “Thank you. Are you the maid here, Fanny? You seem very young.”
    “I do some of the work here, miss, cooking and picking up. There’s a woman comes in for the cleaning, sometimes, and most of the girls eat out a lot or fetch things in. Mostly I’m the ’prentice, so to speak.”
    “You’re the apprentice
what
?” Cristabel wanted to know, but she only got a giggle in reply. “Well, I need some blankets and some hot water. Do you think you could see to that for me?”
    Instead Cristabel got a lecture on possets and poultices and learned more about Fanny’s poor pa, who always had a weak chest, except he was killed by a runaway horse and not the congestion at all. Fanny left with more giggles, and a promise to return with her mother’s special cure-all.
    It worked. Cristabel didn’t know whether it was the posset, the hot tea, the rest, or simply the young maid’s cheerfulness, but she felt much better. No, she had to be honest with herself. It was the sight of Major Lyle MacDermott in dress uniform that had her off the sofa and agreeing to accompany him to the upper stories, where the redoubtable Nick Blass had discovered an unoccupied bedchamber for her.
    “Isn’t that a Highlands regiment?” she asked.
    The major puffed his chest out a touch more in its scarlet jacket. “Yes, ma’am. And no, I’m no Scotsman, but my father’s brother is one of those chieftain things there, and he bought my colors.”
    Cristabel thought they may as well make a tour of the house on the way, since she was feeling quite chipper, and his kilt swayed with every step. She was pleased to note that the major hadn’t been badly crippled by his injury. He walked quite gracefully, without the cane in fact, and she wondered if he danced as well. Some of Lord Wellington’s officers were reputed to be the finest dancers in all of England. Now whatever put that wayward thought in her