“I have a maid, but I can’t say that she’s suitable. Actually she’s completely hopeless. She got my head stuck in the armhole of my dress last night, I found her sleeping in my bed when I came to my room and she forgot to come and wake me this morning.”

“Where on earth did you find her?”

“She’s a relative of my grandfather’s neighbor Mrs. ’uggins.”

“Well, then, serves you right,” Belinda said.

“She means well,” I said. “I’m actually quite fond of her in a way. She’s been put in a situation quite remote from her normal life and she hasn’t had a single bout of tears or panic. But I’ll have to find out about that morning tea. I really do expect that much.”

As we passed the stairs leading down to the kitchens we saw the young lady in question coming up, wiping the crumbs off her uniform.

“Oh, whatcher, miss,” she said. “They don’t half eat funny food here, don’t they? Cold meat with garlic in it for breakfast. Whoever heard of such a thing? But the rolls were nice.”

“Queenie, what happened to you?” I said coldly. “I was waiting for you to bring me my morning tea and to dress me.”

“Oh, blimey, sorry, miss,” she said. “I knew there was something I was supposed to be doing when I went down to the kitchen. But then I saw other servants having breakfast so I decided to tuck in too before it all went. I wasn’t half hungry after missing me supper last night.”

I felt rather guilty about this. I should really have made sure that she had had something to eat, but I remembered Lady Middlesex’s admonitions about being firm with servants. “In future I expect my tea tray to be brought up to me at eight, is that clear?” I asked.

“Bob’s yer uncle,” Queenie said.

“And you are supposed to call me ‘my lady,’ remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting that one too, don’t I? My old dad said I’d forget my head if it wasn’t joined to my shoulders.” She shook with laughter at that. “So what am I supposed to do now?”

“Go up to my room and see which of my clothes need pressing. I’ll want to wear a different dress for the banquet tonight.”

“Righty-o,” she said. “Where do I find an iron?”

“Ask the other servants,” I said. “I have no idea where irons are kept.”

I left her trudging up the stairs and rejoined Belinda, who had been watching from the shadows.

“Darling, utterly clueless,” Belinda said. “If she were a horse, one would have to have her put down.”

“You are wicked,” I said.