“Then you should have outfitted her suitably. My dear girl, if you let servants go around looking like oversized flowerpots you’ll be a laughingstock. I only allow Chantal to wear black. Colors are reserved for people of our class. Come along now, Chantal.” She turned to the maid. “My train cases. And I want you to stay with those porters every inch of the way until the trunks are safely on board the ship, is that clear?”

“You do the same, Queenie,” I said.

“I ain’t never been on a ship, miss,” Queenie said, already looking green, “apart from the Saucy Sally around the pier at Clacton. What if I get seasick?”

“Nonsense,” Lady Middlesex said. “You simply tell yourself that you are not going to be ill. Your mistress will not allow it. Now off you go and no dillydallying.” She turned to me. “That girl wants bringing in line rapidly.”

Then she strode out ahead of me toward the gangplank. It was a pleasant crossing with just enough swell to make one realize one was on a ship. Lady Middlesex and I had lunch in the dining room (she had a hearty appetite and devoured everything within sight) and emerged in time to see the French coast ahead of us. We found Queenie, who was clinging to the railing as if it were her only hope of survival.

“It don’t half go up and down, don’t it, miss?” she said.

“Your mistress should be addressed as ‘your ladyship,’ ” Lady Middlesex said in a horrified voice. “I can’t think where she found such an unsuitable maid. Pull yourself together, girl, or you’ll be on the next boat home.”

Oh, dear. I’m sure that was exactly what Queenie wanted at this moment.

“Queenie is still learning,” I said quickly. “I’m sure she’ll soon be splendid.”

Lady Middlesex sniffed. We sailed into Calais Harbor and then we sailed through the hassle of customs and immigration thanks to Lady M and the royal warrants, which allowed us to bypass the long lines and the customs shed. I had to admit she was marvelous—frightening, but worthy of admiration as she chivvied French dockworkers and porters until luggage was loaded and we were safely in our wagons-lits compartments of the Arlberg Orient Express.

“Run along now,” Lady Middlesex said, waving Chantal away as if she were an annoying fly. “And take Lady Georgiana’s maid with you.”

I was relieved to find I had my own sleeping berth and didn’t have to share with Lady Middlesex. I was about to come out into the corridor when I heard words I never would have expected to escape from Lady Middlesex’s lips.

“Ah, there you are at last, dear heart.”