“Oh, Queenie,” I said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. One had to admire her resiliency. She had managed to travel all the way to Kilhenny when she had never been outside the East End before she met me. I suppose I should have admired her devotion too, but I rather suspected that her family was desperate to do anything to get rid of her again. It would only have taken a day or so before she blew up the kitchen or set fire to the curtains. And now, in all innocence, she had revealed my true identity to the world. I could no longer go anywhere without being besieged by newspaper reporters. Darcy would be furious.

I managed to channel my royal ancestors and be gracious. “It was very brave and enterprising of you to come so far by yourself,” I said. “Has Lady Whyte shown you where you can sleep tonight?”

“Oh yes, miss. I’m up one floor from you. Little room in the attic. It’s not easy to get to the bed, because there’s so much stuff piled on the floor, but it will do. It don’t really matter now that I’ve found you, and I expect I can tidy it up in the morning.”

“Then you’d better go up to bed now,” I said. “I expect you’re very tired.”

“Oh yes, miss. Right knackered, I am.”

“And hungry, I expect.”

“No, I’m all right there. Some nice gentlemen bought me a meat pie and peas at the pub. Ever so friendly they all were. Good night, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And off she went, leaving me staring at the ceiling in horror. Not only was Queenie back in my life, but she had apparently told the entire press community that I was in the vicinity. Oh crikey, I muttered again.

Chapter 28

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5

Queenie is back. Oh crikey. More things to worry about. Please let her behave well and not disgrace me.

In the morning there was no sign of Queenie as I got up, washed and dressed. I came downstairs to find Oona bustling about, laying a table for breakfast.

“Ah, there you are. Did you know that your maid arrived last night? I told her not to wake you if you were already asleep.”

“She didn’t wake me,” I said. “In fact she stood silently at the foot of my bed and I mistook her for the ghost.”

Oona gave a big fruity laugh. “A little too solid for a ghost, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea she would follow me to Ireland. I sent her home to her family but they managed to convince her that her place was here with me.”

“Now, there’s devotion for you,” Oona said. “One doesn’t see that often these days. I thought Treadwell was the last of the devoted servants.”