Another servant carried a small chair from the sitting room. “Put it there,” she ordered, pointing to an empty space by the door. “Where is the old set?” she asked Dodd.
“The attic, your ladyship.”
“Have it brought down.”
He inclined his head. “As you wish.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is there something you wish to say to me, Dodd?”
His brows shot up. “Not at all, your ladyship.”
“I make it my policy that my crew—my staff—may speak freely.”
“Your ladyship is too kind. Now if your ladyship will excuse me, I shall see that the old sitting suite is brought down posthaste.” He paused. “One never knows when your ladyship might receive callers.” His eye strayed briefly to her trousers.
“Thank you for enlightening me,” she snapped. “And if you repeat ‘your ladyship’ once more, I shall mete out consequences no other lady would dream of.”
His lips thinned, but he acquiesced with a stiff bow and turned to do as he’d been ordered. Resistance was nothing she couldn’t handle. Even sweet old Dodd would follow her direction or find himself seeking new employment.
She started up the stairs. Phil would be here within the hour with a dressmaker. Dodd would be happy about that, at least.
But upstairs in the guest apartment, she discovered that Millicent had not waited for the dressmaker.
“There’s a wardrobe full of gowns in my dressing room,” Millicent told her. “This one fits well enough.” It didn’t, and it was ugly. Katherine specifically remembered leaving the blue-and-beige gown behind because it wasn’t fit for the Continent.
Anne, sitting next to Millicent on the couch, made a face. “It smells awful, Mama.”
“Like moths and mildew,” Katherine said. “For God’s sake, Millie, go put on your other one. We’ll all be measured for new gowns as soon as Phil arrives with the modiste.”
“I don’t need a new gown,” Millie said. “There are plenty in that wardrobe I can remake.”
“I don’t like London, Mama,” Anne said plaintively. “I want to go back to the ship.”
Katherine crouched in front of Anne and touched her cheek. “You’ve only been here one night, sweetling. You will love London—I promise.”
Her false cheer did not fool Anne. “I don’t think I will, Mama.” She sighed and leaned against Millicent.
“I shall begin remaking one of the gowns today,” Millie said a little crossly. “I shan’t need many.”
“You will not gad about London in my childhood clothes,” Katherine said. “I don’t want to hear anything more about it.” She went to the writing desk, dipped her pen and signed her name to the last letter she’d written. She glanced up in time to see Millie’s mouth tighten, but she hadn’t the patience to do anything but ignore it. She folded the paper, let a small blob of bloodred sealing wax pool onto it and pressed Papa’s seal into the wax.
“Will I be gadding about London, Mama?” Anne asked tiredly.
When she lifted the seal, the Dunscore coat of arms stared up at her.
When you are countess of Dunscore, Katie, you’ll fly her crest from these ramparts, and the ancients will honor it from their tombs.
She turned abruptly from the desk and went to Anne. “You—” she tapped Anne’s nose “—will be learning music and dance and poetry and all the things a young lady needs to know.”
A tutor. Katherine returned to the desk and added to the list. Yes, Anne would need a tutor.
After answering a barrage of questions about music and dance and poetry and all the things a young lady needs to know, Katherine went to check on the progress of clearing the Holliswells’ things from the rooms they’d occupied.
Millie followed her into the hallway, where servants scurried back and forth carrying boxes downstairs. “Lady Dunscore,” Millie said from behind her, “when are you going to decide about my position?”
Katherine stopped. Turned. “Do not ever call me that again.”
“Then pray, what shall I call you?”
Katherine closed the distance between them, keeping her voice low. “Nothing has changed, Millicent. Not one bloody thing. I will not have you in my employ—you are a member of my household, not a servant.”
“I was a member of your crew,” Millicent whispered sharply. “I am not a member of your household. I’d been a governess when I met you, and thanks to you I have little choice but to be a governess again. I’d only hoped to be a governess to Anne and not to some child whose father has wandering hands.”
“You don’t need to be anyone’s governess. As soon as I’ve secured Dunscore, we’ll go to Scotland. You’ll love Dunscore, Millie. It’s right on the sea. You can hear the waves—”
“I could have heard them on Malta, as well.”
Always, always it came back to Malta and that damned surgical school. “I was not about to leave you alone on Malta with no protection but a disguise.”
Millie’s brown eyes flashed. “A bloody effective disguise, and there would have been no reason for anyone to suspect the truth at all. I would be perfectly content to spend the rest of my life dressed as a man. Even now I could have been attending lectures on anatomy and physiology, but no. I’m here in London—the last place I ever wished to be—and soon you’ll be so busy with masquerades and theater boxes you won’t care about the sound of the waves.”
“That’s untrue.” Millicent’s words struck like a knife and twisted hard. She would not forget who she was. Not ever. “Disagree with my decisions if you wish, but I will not tolerate disrespect here any more than aboard my ship. Now. Phil will be here soon with the modiste, so you’d best change out of that smelly old gown or I have no doubt Phil will have something to say about it that you won’t like.”
* * *
AT 9:45, A NOTE arrived from Papa’s solicitor agreeing to pay a visit that afternoon.
At 9:50, Dodd came to the drawing room carrying a card on a silver tray, turning his nose as though he offered a piece of manure. “A hack from the Spectator, your ladyship.”
Katherine tore the card in half and tossed the pieces onto the tray. “If he returns, plant his head on a pike by the doorstep.”
At 9:55, she went to check the progress in Papa’s rooms, where a servant was taking the last of Holliswell’s toiletries from the dressing table.
It was harder than she’d expected to see Papa’s rooms again. “Are any of my father’s things still here?”
The servant’s startled gaze hopped from her head to her cutlass to her feet. “Nothing, your...er, your ladyship. His lordship’s clothes were packed away into the attic. Everything here belongs to Mr. Holliswell.”
Only thanks to Dunscore’s coin, no doubt, which meant she should bloody well pack all of his things away in the attic and let him find the means to replace it all. Which she absolutely would if it wouldn’t create more trouble than it was worth. She stalked through the room and opened the wardrobe, the drawers, the chest at the foot of the bed that Papa had always kept locked. It wasn’t locked now, but there was nothing inside.
Katherine left the room, letting the boots that had served her so well on board the Possession thump soundly on the polished wood floors. The reality that Papa was gone dragged at her like the fiercest undertow and had her clawing for breath. But there wasn’t time to compose herself, because Miss Holliswell’s companion waited for her in the hallway.