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Contents ( 81)
  1. THE GOOD SERVANT
  2. Fern Britton
  3. Copyright
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONE
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. PART TWO
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. PART THREE
  45. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  46. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  47. Chapter Forty
  48. Chapter Forty-One
  49. PART FOUR
  50. Chapter Forty-Two
  51. Chapter Forty-Three
  52. Chapter Forty-Four
  53. PART FIVE
  54. Chapter Forty-Five
  55. Chapter Forty-Six
  56. Chapter Forty-Seven
  57. Chapter Forty-Eight
  58. Chapter Forty-Nine
  59. Chapter Fifty
  60. Chapter Fifty-One
  61. Chapter Fifty-Two
  62. Chapter Fifty-Three
  63. Chapter Fifty-Four
  64. Chapter Fifty-Five
  65. Chapter Fifty-Six
  66. Chapter Fifty-Seven
  67. Chapter Fifty-Eight
  68. Chapter Fifty-Nine
  69. Chapter Sixty
  70. Chapter Sixty-One
  71. Chapter Sixty-Two
  72. Chapter Sixty-Three
  73. Chapter Sixty-Four
  74. Chapter Sixty-Five
  75. EPILOGUE
  76. AFTERWORD
  77. BIBLIOGRAPHY
  78. Keep Reading …
  79. About the Author
  80. By the same author
  81. About the Publisher

Scrambling to her feet, she bobbed what she hoped was a good enough curtsey. ‘Your Royal Highness.’

‘I just wanted to welcome you, and apologize for not being here when you arrived. I hope you are settling in well?’

‘Yes, thank you, ma’am.’

‘I shall leave you to your rest. See you tomorrow. I am sure you shall be happy here. I do hope you shall like us.’

‘I am sure I shall, ma’am.’ She bobbed again. ‘Goodnight.’

Left to herself again, Marion’s mind began racing. Pulling her journal and a pencil from her handbag, she began to make a list. If she was to see the Duchess, and possibly the Duke, tomorrow she had better have some clear thoughts and questions about the Princesses and her role. She wrote fast, thinking hurriedly:

  1. What are their favourite activities?
  2. How much can Princess Elizabeth read yet and how much can she write? (she is six years old)
  3. What stories do they like?
  4. What subjects do you wish me to teach first?
  5. How much outdoor activity do they like?
  6. Princess Margaret Rose is still so young (two in August?). Where and how would you like me to start her lessons?
  7. Do you have a schoolroom?
  8. How much of the world outside their front door are they allowed to explore – how shielded are they?
  9. Who are their best friends that we may meet for play and teas?
  10. I am here for only a few months (as discussed, I return to Scotland in the autumn to start my child psychology diploma). What would you like me to have achieved by then?

She tapped her pencil against her teeth and read it all through. She didn’t want to come across as too prescriptive or bossy, but she wanted them to know that she was taking her responsibilities seriously.

Satisfied for the moment, she jotted down a few further notes of the day so far. Her mother would want to know all the details.

Finally, Marion got ready for bed. She wasn’t used to sleeping in so warm a room, so she opened her window wide onto the dark outside. The cool air felt so much warmer than a Scottish night in March. She drank it in and gave a small laugh. ‘Well, lassie, look at you now.’

She checked her watch. It was getting late: if she was to be up and ready for her first day, she’d better get some rest.

Chapter Three

Royal Lodge, Windsor, March 1932

Marion woke to the sound of her window being firmly shut. Blinking against the light, she saw the outline of a young housemaid securing the curtains with tiebacks.

‘Good morning,’ Marion said, rather alarmed to find this stranger in her room.

‘Morning, Miss Crawford. You must be cold, with the window open all night. It’s very chilly outside today. I’ve laid your breakfast on the table by the fire and put a couple of lumps of coal on the embers too, so you’ll be warm in no time. How did you sleep?’