The Housekeepers(56)

Virtue displayed, she went back upstairs and put on her tea gown.

“Good, Alice,” she said, inspecting her buttons, her clasps. The girl hadn’t missed a single one. “That will be all.”

Alice gave her a long, pale stare—and went away.

The late-afternoon post was due. Miss de Vries was hungry for it, couldn’t bear to wait any longer. Slowly, slowly, hour by hour, cards had begun landing in the front hall. First the Rutlands. Then Lady Tweedmouth. Lady Londonderry’s circle was quick to follow. Mr. Menzies sent his thanks. So did Lady Fitzmaurice and Lord Athlumney. It was happening. Apparently, the Duchess of Montagu had done her best work. They were coming.

From her bedroom she could hear the distant, whispering sound of the girls rubbing the parquet, could smell the wafts of vinegar coming from the glass in the ballroom. She kept the door open. She would have ordered up a cigarette if she didn’t fear fouling her breath.

There was a knock at the door. She heard William’s voice, right on schedule. “Post, Madam.”

“Come,” she said.

He was tense—she knew that. There had been a shift in his mood in recent days. He’d been keeping his distance. She could always sense these things.

He laid the platter on the table.

She could see one of the envelopes bore a dark red crest. Her heart started beating faster.

Papa had always taught her the art of patience. Of suppressing one’s whims, curtailing one’s deepest desires.

I would make a fine ascetic, she thought dryly. I would make a splendid nun.

“William,” she said. “You must tell me. Was there something between you and Mrs. King?”

The air tilted. His expression became guarded.

People said that William was very beautiful. They praised her for it, as if she had something to do with it, as if she’d won him at an auction. Perhaps she had. But his eyes had no effect on her.

“I only ask,” she said, “for the sake of the household. I am accountable for its reputation.”

He stood there, trussed up in cream silk and his afternoon livery, groomed and manicured. He flushed. “Do you mind, Madam, if I keep my counsel on that matter?”

“Yes,” she said lightly, “I do.” She stretched, reaching for the post tray. “You were spotted with Mrs. King in the garden the other day. Not a very sensible thing to do, given your recent indiscretions.”

His voice was tight. “Spotted by whom, Madam?”

She flipped the envelopes over, picked up the smallest one first, the most uninteresting. “That’s not a denial.”

He said nothing.

She glanced up. “By me, if you must know.” She took out the card:

So pleased to accept,

Yours &c,

Captain and Mrs. C. Fox-Willoughby.

“I’m forever looking out of the window and seeing things I oughtn’t.”

His eyes became blank, indecipherable. Good, she thought. He’s rattled.

“Will that be all, Madam?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Next envelope.

She smiled. “I have a proposition for you.”

He said nothing. She approved of that, too. It was best to remain composed in the face of disagreeable things. “I may soon find myself,” she said, “in need of a new household. You take my meaning?”

William’s eyes narrowed, just a fraction. “I did hear that Lord Ashley is coming tonight, Madam.”

“Too clever of you. Yes, he is. And it has come to my attention that Lord Ashley does not keep a butler on Brook Street. Rather a deficiency, to my mind. One I’d take care to correct.”

He didn’t say the obvious thing. He didn’t ask, What about Shepherd? He had clearly guessed the answer. Shepherd belonged to her father, and the world was ticking on. It needed new people. New energy.

“I suppose I’d better think about it, Madam,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, you’d better tell me this instant.”

His face darkened. She saw it: his pride, wounded. It pleased her immensely. Men were like that: so easy to prick.

“What’s the matter?” she said softly. “Have you made other plans?”

Footsteps. The door opened. One of the under-footmen peered in. “Madam,” he said. “Lady Montagu has just arrived.”

Miss de Vries felt a jolt. “So early?”

“Yes’m.”

“Very well.” She rose. “That’ll be all, William.”

He gave her another long look, pressed his lips together, as if making up his mind about something. “Very good, Madam,” he said, and backed out of the room.

She laughed to herself. He’d come crawling back the following morning. She swiped the heaviest envelope from the pile before she went. She wanted to be alone, unobserved, when she opened it. She touched the wax seal with trembling hands. Tore open the paper.

…to advise you with pleasure that Her Royal Highness is minded to answer your request in the AFFIRMATIVE, and that you may expect the Equerry and her principal Lady of the Bedchamber to attend you at…

The light was falling gently through the window. I am touched by grace, she thought, heart leaping. I am on my way to victory…

Shepherd made a beeline for her in the front hall. “Her Grace simply turned up, Madam. We had no idea…”