Hamilton coughed again, not wishing to overhear this conversation. “I’ll instruct the girl to run your bath, then, shall I, my lady?”

“Don’t bother, Hamilton. I’m going upstairs anyway. I can run it myself.”

“Yourself, my lady?” His tone implied that I was about to sell fish from a barrow in the East End.

“It’s really not hard. One turns two taps and puts a stopper in,” I said. “I’ve done it before.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Hamilton bowed and retreated behind the baize door.

“Really, Georgiana, you must learn to be a little more sensitive,” Fig said. “Servants should be allowed to do their jobs. They’ll become lazy if they are not constantly being given things to do. And your girl is lazier than most to begin with. You must give her a stiff talking-to, and if you don’t, I will.”

I sighed and dragged my weary feet up the stairs. One doesn’t realize how tiring it is to stand for several hours. Walking is no problem. I could tramp through the heather all day, but standing in one place with cold feet is dashed uncomfortable. I stopped off at the second-floor bathroom and turned on the taps full blast, then I went through to my bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the room was in half darkness. I flung down my jacket on the bed.

There was a scream. I believe I screamed at the same time as a figure reared up from my bedclothes. My heart was still beating fast when Queenie’s round, vacuous moon face came into focus.

“Queenie. What are you doing lying in my bed?”

She got up in leisurely fashion, stretching like a cat. “Sorry, miss. I must have dozed off. I always get a bit sleepy after me dinner, especially when it’s stodge. You know, steak and kidney pud. And we’ve been getting a lot of stodge lately, let me tell you.”

“That’s because Her Grace the Duchess is trying to economize,” I said.

“When it suits ’er,” Queenie replied. “I noticed she got through half a pot of Cooper’s Oxford marmalade with her breakfast toast this morning when she thought no one was looking.”

“Queenie, it’s not your place to comment on your employers,” I replied, although I was secretly delighted to have this little tidbit about Fig to bring out when necessary. “Times are hard and Her Grace economizes as she sees fit. You are lucky to be fed and clothed in this house. There are plenty of girls waiting to take your place, you know.”

“I’m sorry, miss. And I’m sorry about dozing off, I really am. I was putting your clean clothes away and I just happened to sit down for a moment and before I knew it, bob’s yer uncle and my ’ead just hit that pillow.”

“You really are hopeless, Queenie.”