The Impossible Earl. Sarah Westleigh

away, if they liked. Since they were back earlier than expected, four o’clock and the dinner she had ordered—mutton was available as miss had requested—was still more than an hour off. But she had borrowed a kettle and teapot from the kitchen, and the cook had given her tea, milk, sugar, muffins and butter.

      “You sees, miss, there are trivets as can be turned over the coals and I found a toasting fork among the fire irons. So I asked downstairs and he were only too happy to oblige.”

      “Well done, Dolly,” Leonora praised the girl, who had shown surprising initiative. “I should be most grateful for tea and muffins.”

      “The kettle’s singing on the hob,” said Dolly smugly, dumping their garments on one of the chairs furnishing the hallway. “The tea can brew while I toasts the muffins.”

      By the time Leonora had washed her hands and tidied her hair the tea was ready. The muffins, running with melted butter, proved delicious. Seeing Dolly’s longing gaze, Leonora offered her one. Not until that moment did she realise that Dolly had nowhere nearby that she could go to eat it except up to her room in the roof.

      “Is there a bell in your room, Dolly?” she asked.

      “Yes, miss, but it don’t ring. Not like them in the servants’ hall. If I was down there I’d soon know if you wanted me.”

      “I dare say the one upstairs is not connected. Mention it to Mrs Parkes, tell her I would like it to work. Then you would be able to go to your room whenever you are not needed and do not wish to go down to the basement. Go up there now, Dolly. I shall call if I need you.”

      Tomorrow she must remember to see about the mason.

      “Shall you go to the Pump Room and sign the book tomorrow?” asked Clarissa.

      That, too. Once she was decently gowned.

      The third lady’s maid Leonora interviewed proved to be youthful but experienced. Her mistress had come to Bath for her health and had died a week since, she explained. She had references…

      Leonora read them, smiled at the woman, calm, capable, neatly dressed and probably about Clarissa’s age, and offered Juliette Tranton the position.

      Juliette smiled, accepted without hesitation, and took up her post immediately. She only had to collect her trunk.

      Leonora felt that by tomorrow she would almost be set up in the style she wished. A carriage of her own would not be practicable in Bath. If she wished to drive out into the country she could always hire an outfit. There were still one or two ends to be neatened off, but by and large she was settled.

      Apart from the nagging irritation of having Lord Kelsey’s Vitus Club operating below. The rumble of men’s voices, the occasional burst of laughter, could not fail to remind her. The sounds were not overly intrusive, but they were there in the background. And during the day she could not use her own front door to receive callers.

      Which was intolerable.