Oh! Suddenly the lace shawl started to slip from her shoulders and Maggie twisted to catch it before it fell.

It happened in a flash.

Someone pushed past, nudging her elbow hard and Maggie screamed as the whole, almost-full glass of red wine tipped down her front, soaking her right through to the skin.

Chapter 8

‘Here!’ Lady Ashford – a picture of elegance in her red evening gown and turban – stood in front of Maggie, holding out her slender hand.

Maggie, shocked and dripping and all too aware of gasps and giggles around her, gave the now-empty glass to her Ladyship, who immediately passed it to someone behind her. Then, with a light hand on Maggie’s arm, Lady Ashford guided her across the lawn, dodging clusters of party guests, and through a side door into the Hall. ‘Come along,’ she said, kindly, ‘we’ll soon get you fixed up. I can’t abide that Beaujolais either. Good riddance, eh?’

Immediately, in the silence of Snowden’s interior and away from everyone’s curious stares, Maggie felt a little less wretched.

‘I’m so clumsy,’ she said, as they skirted the Long Gallery, where the blackouts were being put up. She glanced down at her chest. ‘Blimey. It looks like I’ve been stabbed.’

Oh, she wished she could take that back. But Lady Ashford didn’t seem to mind.

‘Quite,’ she said simply, quickening her pace so that Maggie almost had to run to keep up.

The housekeeper was sitting at the table in the kitchen, ticking items off a long list. She looked up as they bustled in and shot up out of her seat. ‘Your Ladyship?’

‘Now, I’m sure Mrs Mason and her good ladies know all the tricks for removing stains,’ Lady Ashford said. ‘It’s no good asking me, I can’t even make a cup of tea!’ She laughed. ‘You must run upstairs at once, change out of this wet blouse and bring it back for Mrs Mason to work her magic.’

The housekeeper raised her eyebrows at the state of Maggie.

‘Oh, no really, it’s no trouble. I can do it myself,’ Maggie said.

‘Sort it out between yourselves, won’t you?’ Lady Ashford said, moving towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you now, then, er …’

‘Maggie. Maggie Corbett.’ Should she add ‘Ma’am’? Or curtsey?

‘Lovely.’ With a smile and a nod, Lady Ashford glided from the room.

Mrs Mason ran a critical eye over Maggie. ‘Upset someone, did you? And not used to wine, I dare say.’ She pointed to a door on the far side of the kitchen. ‘Scullery’s that way, when you’re ready. Soak it in the dolly tub. There’s Rinso. Be quick, mind, or you’ll never get that stain out.’

* * *