The cook eyed Bet up and down, but then seemed to recall herself and quickly closed the door, saying, “Well ye’d best both go on through. I sent Gilly up to fetch Mrs. Morgan. She’ll be down in a minute no doubt. Yer to wait in the . . . er . . . parlor.” Turning back, she eyed the pair of them briefly again, and then gestured across the steamy room. “Through there and up the hall, last door on the right.”

Lisa hesitated, a frown catching at her lips, but caught it back when she saw that Bet too was frowning. This wasn’t at all the way visits for tea generally went in her experience, but then Mrs. Morgan wasn’t a member of the gentry. No doubt it was hard to get good servants when you couldn’t pay as well as members of the nobility did, and all of this was probably a very kind attempt on Mrs. Morgan’s part to prevent her from getting in trouble for coming. The older woman had proven to be very intelligent during their previous encounters and might realize Lisa’s visiting might be frowned on by her family.

Forcing a serene expression to her face, Lisa caught Bet’s arm and urged her across the room to the door the cook had gestured to.

“This ain’t right,” Bet hissed the moment they were out of the kitchen and moving up a long, dimly lit hall. “Ladies don’t have to be snuck in the back door of the homes of respected people. And they aren’t greeted by a surly, fat old woman in dirty clothes either. And—”

“Hush,” Lisa warned, but otherwise could hardly argue the point. This was highly unusual . . . and really, the cook had been surly and her clothes were filthy. Unsanitary, Lisa thought, and decided she would avoid eating any pastries or such that might be served with tea. Catching the rebellion growing in Bet’s expression, she whispered, “I’m sure Mrs. Morgan is just trying to protect me by slipping me through the back door.”

“If she was a decent woman there’d be no need to protect you,” Bet growled sharply.

Lisa frowned at the truth behind those words and felt a niggle of concern, but then sighed and said, “Well, we are here now. One tea and we shall leave, I promise. But we can hardly—”

“Ah, there you are. Gilly said you’d arrived. I had intended to be in the kitchen to greet you, but got held up.”

Lisa paused in the hall and glanced to the curving stairway and the dark-haired woman descending it. Some of her worry and nervousness eased just at the sight of Mrs. Morgan as she recalled the lovely visits they’d enjoyed in the country. Lisa smiled widely as the older woman reached the bottom of the steps and moved up the hall toward them.