Maude looked at me with pure distaste. “I need space for my dolls,” she said.

“There are no other rooms, dearest,” Ducky said. “And she is your aunt, sort of. And she has come a long way. And it might be nice for you to have a chum to talk to.”

“I don’t like talking,” Maude said. If ever a child had been well named, it was this one. She looked just like a Maude.

“She’s very sensitive,” Ducky repeated. “She’ll need time to come around.”

“If there’s nowhere for me here, I shall have to go home, I suppose,” I said. “The queen will be disappointed.”

That was my trump card, as I knew it would be.

“We can’t let the queen think that we gave Georgiana the cold shoulder,” Fig said. “We’ll have to make room for her somehow.”

“I suppose we could put a camp bed for her in the library,” Foggy suggested. “Nobody ever goes in there, do they?”

“It’s a rum do, Georgie,” Binky said. “This house has a library, a smoking room, a music room, a billiard room, but a distinct lack of bedrooms and bathrooms.”

“Auntie Georgie can sleep with me and Nanny,” Podge said, moving to my side in a display of solidarity.

I thought that would be an admirable solution. “Nanny and me,” Fig corrected. “Please make sure you get your grammar correct, Podge. And it wouldn’t be healthy to have three people in one bedroom. Not enough fresh air.”

“And my maid?” I asked.

Fig noticed Queenie for the first time. “You brought that person with you? What on earth possessed you, Georgiana?”

“One does need a maid, and she’s the only one I have.”

Fig turned to Ducky. “She is the dreadful girl I told you about. Absolutely from the gutter. Hasn’t the slightest idea how to behave in polite society.”

“Nevertheless, she needs somewhere to sleep,” I insisted.

“She’ll have to share with your girl, Fig,” Ducky said with a sigh. She turned to Queenie. “Take your mistress’s things upstairs, girl.”

“It shall be done as you desire, madam,” Queenie said with her mock posh accent.

“How dare you try to imitate your betters,” Fig snapped. “Honestly, Georgiana, she’ll have to go. Start looking for a French maid immediately.”

At that moment the gargoyle in black stepped from the shadows and rattled off a string of French at us. I think I was the only one who understood. “She says she had no idea that I was coming because nobody told her and where do they think I am going to sleep?” I translated. It was clear they were all terrified of her. “Who is she, anyway?”

“Madame Lapiss. She’s the housekeeper. She’s frightful,” Foggy said.

“She’s going to sleep in the library,” Fig said in very bad French.