Free Snobbery with Violence by MC Beaton Page A

amongst the dustbins until the footman appeared.
    ‘I need some information,’ said Kerridge. ‘I want to know about a certain Captain Harry Cathcart. Lives in Water Street, Chelsea.’
    ‘I’ll find out what I can. Cost you.’
    ‘Always does,’ said Kerridge gloomily.
    Shortly before Rose was due to visit the Marquess of Hedley, her maid, Yardley, gave notice. Lady’s maids prided themselves on the appearance of their employers. Yardley felt her position in life had diminished through Rose’s disgrace. Rose did dress for dinner, but during the day went around in skirts and shirt blouses, or in riding dress.
    Lady Polly felt her daughter was going too far when Rose calmly announced that Daisy would be her new lady’s maid.
    ‘That girl is out of the gutter,’ raged Lady Polly.
    ‘Daisy is bright and intelligent and a quick learner,’ said Rose. ‘You never talk to her. I will fetch her and you can see for yourself.’
    Lady Polly was taken aback when Daisy entered the room. The blonde hair was beginning to grow out and Daisy was dressed neatly and becomingly.
    ‘So you think you can be a lady’s maid?’ demanded the countess.
    ‘Yes, my lady. I have learned a great deal, thanks to Lady Rose’s kindness.’
    Her voice was soft, with only the slightest Cockney edge.
    ‘I do not like to think of a girl of your background chaperoning my daughter,’ said Lady Polly, who had the staccato speech of her class, an icy stare put into words.
    ‘A girl of my background is wise to the ways of men, my lady. I would have protected Lady Rose better had I been with her in London.’
    ‘And do you know how to sew?’
    ‘Yes, my lady. I worked as a seamstress in Whitechapel when I wasn’t on the boards.’
    The countess’s own lady’s maid, Humphrey, stood behind her mistress’s chair, darting jealous looks at Daisy. She gave a little cough. ‘May I suggest a test, my lady? Your blonde straw hat needs retrimming. I suggest it is given to this person to see how she can work.’
    ‘Excellent. Fetch it here and give it to the girl.’
    *  *  *
    Two days later, the refurbished hat was presented to the countess. It was decorated by beautifully made scarlet silk roses. The countess was immensely pleased with it. But Humphrey snorted and said dresses were another thing. What about my lady’s ball-gown, which had a torn hem, and that my lady had said was old-fashioned?
    The dress was returned in another two days. The neckline had been slightly lowered and the shoulders decorated with white silk bows. The train had gone and it was now ankle-length.
    ‘I always have a train,’ complained the countess.
    ‘Trains are going out of fashion, my lady,’ said Daisy demurely. ‘I could not help noticing that you have very fine ankles, and if you adopt the new style, you will not need to throw the train over your arm when you are dancing or risk it being torn when you are walking about.’
    The countess poked her ankles out from beneath the gown and studied them complacently. ‘Very good, Daisy. But you cannot be called Daisy and you cannot be called Levine because it sounds foreign.You will be called Baxter.’
    ‘That means you can go,’ said Rose when Daisy told her. ‘But I shall not call you Baxter.’
    ‘I have made an enemy of Humphrey,’ said Daisy. ‘What if she finds out you did all the sewing yourself?’
    ‘There is no need for her to find out. We have been spending too much time over our books and typing lessons, Daisy. Now you must learn the ways of the lady’s maid. When we get to Hedley’s, you will dine with the housekeeper. Your behaviour must be precise. I allow you too much laxity. While we are at the Hedleys’, you never sit down in my presence or wear a hat in the house. You do not venture an opinion, unless asked for it. And you never even say “Good morning” or “Good night”. We have a little time to bring you up to the mark.
    ‘I prefer to dress and undress myself now that Yardley