“Well, then,” Mrs. Huggins said as if this settled everything. “Come on, drink up that tea before it gets cold.”

The Queenie question was settled for me when the tickets were delivered to my door the next day. Travel arrangements for Lady Georgiana Rannoch and maid was written on the envelope. I tried not to think of the havoc she might wreak at a French villa.

The next days were chaotic as I sent off the servants and closed up the house. But then the miracle happened and I became one of those people I had so admired, following a porter to my seat on the boat train, bound for the Continent. I wished I had some way of contacting Darcy to let him know I was going abroad. As it was he might arrive at Rannoch House to find it closed up and me nowhere to be found. Really he was the most annoying man—never in one place for more than two seconds and of no fixed address. Why couldn’t he have a club, like Binky, so at least I could leave messages for him? Then I realized he probably liked it that way. He didn’t want to be tied down. I should accept that and try not to include him in my plans for the future. But it wasn’t that easy to put him out of my mind.

I thought about him as the train steamed through grimy London backstreets. Darcy was an opportunist, like Belinda. He was good at crashing parties and securing invitations. Maybe he was already on the Riviera at this moment. My heart beat a little faster.

By the time we arrived at Dover, Queenie had obviously been enjoying herself in the third-class compartment with the other servants.

“I told them other maids that her ladyship and me goes abroad all the time and what’s more we stays in blooming great royal castles. You should have seen their faces. Green with envy they was.”

I thought they were probably just sickened either by the swaying of the train or by Queenie’s inappropriate boasting. “Queenie, a real lady never boasts,” I said. “If you want to become a lady’s maid, you must learn to act with decorum.”

“Who’s he when he’s at home?” she asked. Actually, it was closer to “’Oo’s ’ee when ’ee’s at ’ome?”

“Decorum. It means behave like a lady.”

“Bob’s yer uncle, miss. I won’t do it no more. I promise I’ll act with—decoration.”

“Queenie. It might be helpful if you read some books and improved your speech. Real ladies’ maids are very refined. As refined as their mistresses.”

“I can’t help it if I was born dead common, miss,” she replied.

I sighed. “Go and make sure our luggage gets on the boat and then keep an eye on it until it’s safely carried ashore in France.”