‘I wonder why that little bloody tyrant always picks on me,’ she ranted, clearly upset.

‘Calm down, Betty,’ Cook urged. ‘What’s she done now?’

‘I was serving her breakfast when she knocked her cup over. It went all over me an’ the tablecloth an’ when I bent down to pick the cup up, she pulled me hair and yanked at me cap.’

Cook tutted. ‘Well, you ought to be used to it by now,’ she said gravely. ‘Did her mother not say anything?’

‘Huh! As usual she stuck up for her and said she’d knocked the cup over accidentally but I know she didn’t!’

‘Never mind. Sit yourself down and get some food inside you and then you can go and get changed before you go back in to clear the table.’

Scowling, Betty removed her sodden apron and plonked down at the table. For the rest of the meal the incident wasn’t mentioned, although Ruby was longing to know who had been the cause of all the trouble.

As soon as the meal was over Miss Wood, who had her meals in her own rooms, appeared and beckoned to Ruby.

Cook gave her an encouraging smile as she lifted her bundle and followed the woman along a passageway that led off from the kitchen until they reached what she discovered were Miss Wood’s private rooms. There appeared to be two, one of which was a very cosy little sitting room with a door leading off it and one that Ruby assumed was her bedroom.

There were a number of dresses laid across the back of the chair and Miss Wood told her, ‘I’m going to take you to your room now. Do take these with you and try them on, then keep the two that fit you best until I can get you some new ones ordered.’

‘Thank you, missus.’

The woman smiled. ‘Miss Wood will do nicely when you address me, Ruby. But before we go, I’d like to explain what your duties will be. You are going to be . . . shall we say a maid-cum-companion to the young mistress of the house. I believe she is about your age but I should warn you she can be quite . . .’ She frowned as she searched for the right word. ‘Challenging, I suppose.’ She sighed and lowered her voice as she went on cautiously, ‘You will be the fourth maid she has had in as many months. I’m afraid Miss Miranda has been rather spoilt, by her mother mainly, and she can be quite spiteful. But who knows, it might be that you two will get along famously. We can always live in hope.’