Chapter Six
Day upon day piled up like the mounds of treasure that surrounded her.
Qavox brought her nicely charred field game and great clumps of greens and vegetables, obviously stolen from some poor peasant’s fields.
She slept on two golden thrones pushed together, covered in furs and the decaying raiment of long ago queens . . .
—The Dragon and the Blue Star by Analise Crewe
Ana awoke to find sun streaming in the windows and a maid setting a tray down next to her bed. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s half past noon, milady.”
Past noon! She should be writing the Clovercote novel. She was losing precious time. She also needed to find a noble fiancé, and quickly. She didn’t have to marry the man, only introduce him to Mr. Norwood and stay engaged until the novel was at the printing press.
Wait a moment—whose bed was this and why were the sheets so soft? For that matter, why was there a maid in her room?
It all came rushing back. The duke darkening the doorway. Her desperate escape. His huge body pressing her against a wall, his hand holding her wrists with a crushing grip.
Exploring his rooms . . . the stolen black silk dressing gown. There it was, hanging over a chair, a shadowy reminder of the gruff guardian who’d rescued her twice already.
“I’ve brought you some drinking chocolate, milady. Shall I pour some for you?”
The rich spicy scent of the chocolate made her mouth water. “Yes, please. Pour it at the table by the fire.”
“Very good, milady.”
Ana hopped out of bed, wearing only her shift, and stretched her arms and yawned.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late.
Her knuckles were faintly bruised from the punches she’d thrown, but other than that, she felt well rested and ready to tackle anything, even something so large and grimly silent as the Duke of Warburton.
Her gown was no longer hanging on the hook where she had left it. Her boots were nowhere to be seen, nor her cloak. “Do you know where my things are?”
“In the washing, I believe.”
“How am I to go about my day?”
“I’m sorry, milady.” The maid’s lower lip trembled and her hand shook as she poured the chocolate.
“Never mind,” Ana said brightly, smiling at the nervous girl.
“I’ll simply have to wear this.” She lifted the duke’s dressing gown and slipped her arms into the gigantic sleeves.
She knotted the belt. It reached to her ankles, brushing against the carpet.
She lifted her arms and the sleeves, which were ten times too long, flapped like crow’s wings. “Does it suit me?”
The maid hid a smile by ducking her head. “It’s rather too big, I’d say, milady.”
“It’s the duke’s.”
“Oh.” The maid lifted her head with a frightened wide stare. “Should you be wearing that, milady?”
Ana rolled up the sleeves and cinched the belt tighter. “It appears to be my only choice. Is His Grace at home?”
“No, milady,” the maid replied. She was young, no more than seventeen, with a heart-shaped face, brown eyes, and a gentle, timid air.
Ana settled onto the comfortable chair and held her toes toward the fire. Delicious.
The maid stood there uncertainly, awaiting further orders, her nose twitching slightly, as if inhaling the scent of the chocolate. Ana paused with her cup halfway to her lips. “Would you like some chocolate?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t, milady. I must see to my other duties. They’re short on chambermaids, you see, and I shouldn’t be serving a grand Lady what with me being new, and all.” She scurried toward the door.
“Do I look like a grand Lady to you?” Ana wiggled her bare toes and grinned.
The maid smothered a smile. “You talk like a lady.”
“I used to be one and then my circumstances changed.”
“Once a lady, always a lady. You’re the duke’s ward, they say, and that makes you very grand, indeed.”
“Perhaps, but only yesterday I was living in a boarding house in the rookeries and eating bread and butter for my tea, so the transformation to grandness hasn’t occurred yet and you needn’t be the least bit intimidated.
Come.” Ana nodded at the chair opposite her.
“Have a few sips of chocolate. No one need be the wiser.”
The maid hesitated, glancing longingly at the silver chocolate pot, and then at the door.
“What’s your name?”
“Tessie, milady.”
Ana startled. Tessie had been one of the names on the duke’s list. Was it a coincidence or could Tessie help her discern the meaning of the list?
“Tessie, you look as if you could do with putting up your feet for a moment and having a nourishing cup of chocolate. You won’t come to any trouble, I’ll see to that. It will be our secret.”
“I couldn’t . . .” Tessie repeated, but she stayed still and watchful as Ana poured a second cup of chocolate and held it toward her.
Pulled by the scent of the chocolate, Tessie timidly advanced until she was perched on the very edge of the chair across from Ana, ready to bolt at any moment.
She took the smallest of sips from the cup of drinking chocolate Ana handed her, and then closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. “It’s even better than I imagined.”
“Have one of these currant buns. They’re delicious if you dip them into the chocolate.”
Tessie accepted a bun and couldn’t stop herself from eating it in two large bites.
“Tell me about yourself, Tessie.”
“Me? There’s not much to tell.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“I’m an orphan girl, milady.”
“Why, so am I!”
“You, miss?” said Tessie in disbelief, obviously questioning if fancy ladies in luxurious beds could possibly share such a woeful status with herself.
“Truly. Except”—Ana sipped her chocolate, noting the flavors of cinnamon and some spice she couldn’t name—“it’s only a temporary status in my case.
My father, Lieutenant John Crewe, went missing in the war, and everyone presumes him dead.
But I know the truth. I know that he suffered a grave injury but was nursed back to health in a small village in Belgium.
He can’t remember his identity, you see. I’m going to find him.”
Tessie’s eyes widened. “Will you go to Belgium, milady?”
“If I must.”
“I’ve only seen London.”
“How long have you been employed here?”
“Only two months.”
“And how have you found your position?”
“Ever so much better than the last. My wages are paid on time and no one beats me.”
A low standard. “And the duke, have you observed him?”
“Only bits and bobs. He doesn’t spend much time here. He’s usually at Drakefell Castle in Surrey. He only comes to London for racing his horses, and the like.”
As they talked, Ana slipped more buns onto Tessie’s plate. “What do the staff think of him?”
“He does have strict rules to follow, but he’s fair, he is.”
“Now tell me what you truly think. I swear to you I’ll repeat it to no one. I want your candid opinion.”
Tessie hesitated. “I shouldn’t say, milady.”
“You shouldn’t, but I swear I won’t tell anyone. I need to know about him because I only last night found out he was my guardian and I’m unacquainted with him. Is he a good man, do you think?” Ana poured Tessie more chocolate. “What do the other servants say about him?”
“Well . . .” Tessie gulped more chocolate.
It was probably the first time she’d tasted such a delicacy.
“Mrs. Hedges says that he needs a wife, because he’s all rough and ill-tempered and he frightens everyone.
She says a wife will gentle him. He has wounds from the war that pain him.
Sometimes he’ll wake in the middle of the night with the most awful yelling, as if he’s back on the battlefield, and those nights he’ll—”
“Exactly what is going on here?” McArdle was at the door; arms crossed and face thunderous. Drat. He’d interrupted them before Ana could broach the subject of the list of names.
Tessie leapt to her feet, knocking her chocolate to the floor, where it made a stain on the carpet. “I’m sorry, sir.” She burst into tears and dropped to her knees, scrubbing at the chocolate with her apron.
Ana set her cup down. “I invited Tessie to sit with me. It’s entirely my doing and she’s not to be punished for it.”
“Return to the kitchens at once,” McArdle ordered. “Scullery maids taking tea with young ladies. This house has gone all topsy-turvy.”
“I thought you said that you had no maid to help me. I choose Tessie. She’s my lady’s maid while I’m here at this house.”
“Preposterous. A scullery maid cannot and will not serve as a lady’s maid.”
“The duke said that I might choose my own chamber, and I daresay he would approve of me choosing my own maid as well.”
“Ha.” McArdle sniffed. “We’ll see about that.”
“The first order of business is having Tessie find my gown.”
His nose wrinkled. “It was stained.”
Mud and blood from yesterday’s fight. “Then what am I to wear?”
“We’ve sent someone to collect your things from the boarding house. Until they arrive, you will stay in this room.” He gave his order and left.
“You’ve made an enemy, Miss Crewe.”
“I’m sorry, Tessie. I didn’t even ask if you wanted to be my maid, I was that irate with him. Should you like to be my maid?”
“More than anything, milady, but I don’t know how to dress hair and fasten elegant gowns.”
“Never mind, we’ll figure it out together. We’ll have to wait until my things arrive.”
“I’ll just go and fetch a cloth to mop up this chocolate, milady.” Tessie bobbed a clumsy curtsy and ran from the room.
Ana would make certain she wasn’t punished. She could use a friend and ally in this house filled with the duke’s absence and the disapproval of McArdle.
She had no clothing to wear. She couldn’t very well leave the house in her shift and a dressing gown. She was a prisoner here, as surely as if the duke had turned the key in the lock.
She helped Tessie clean up the spilled chocolate and then inspected the chamber she’d been assigned by McArdle, excitedly flinging the curtains wide only to find the decidedly uninspiring backside of the carriage house.