Page 87 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

‘I will,’ she said. ‘If you will dance with me?’

‘With the greatest pleasure, Lady Stainton. We must get into practice for Rachel’s wedding, mustn’t we?’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Afton met Miss Hatto on the back stairs, noted a pair of shoes in her hand, and said, ‘Let me polish those for you.’

‘No need, I can do it.’

‘I’ve a pair of boots to do myself. Two pairs are as easy as one.’

Hatto did not enjoy polishing boots as Afton seemed to, so she accepted. Finding the valets’ room empty when they arrived, she stepped in and lingered by the door frame to watch him work.

‘How are you liking it here?’ he asked, to make conversation.

In typical Hatto fashion, she answered obliquely. ‘I shan’t be sorry to go home.’

‘The German language is a problem, isn’t it?’ he guessed. ‘Makes getting along with the other staff difficult.’

‘I don’t have much to do with them,’ she said, with an edge to her voice that suggested he’d hit on something.

‘They don’t smile a lot, do they? But people can seem unfriendly when they don’t understand what you’re saying. And I suppose the princess runs a strict household.’

‘Not strict enough.’

‘Is someone giving you trouble?’ He glanced at her, concerned, and suddenly remembered the prince’s valet. ‘If someone did something or said something, you could tell me.’

‘I can take care of myself,’ Miss Hatto said firmly.

A voice from the door made them both jump. Miss Taylor, the princess’s lady’s maid, had come silently up. ‘If you’re talking about Adolf, he’s too busy chasing kitchen maids to bother her. He prefers fat girls.’ She had always had a sour, pinched face, but she looked more acid than ever as she added, ‘He says they’re more comfortable.’

The words shocked Afton. ‘Can’t you say something to your mistress?’ A hint from her to the prince…’

‘You should know better than that. You don’t tell her highness things she doesn’t want to hear. As long as everything gets done, she doesn’t care what goes on below stairs.’

‘A good mistress should care. And she ought to want to know everything.’

‘Frau Bauer is the housekeeper here,’ Miss Taylor said impatiently. ‘She doesn’t speak English. She reports to the prince’s sister, Countess Lippstadt, because that’s who ran the household before the prince married. The countess doesn’t speak English either. She reports to her highness. Which actually means her highness tells her what’s required and she says, “Bestimmt, Schwägerin,” and makes sure it’s done. That’s how things work in this house – If it’s any concern of yours. You’re just a visiting valet, Mr Afton. You should remember criticism from visiting valets is not welcomed.’ She turned to Miss Hatto. ‘And you shouldn’t be in here,’ she added. ‘There’s enough of people being where they shouldn’t be without you adding to it.’

Miss Hatto and Miss Taylor seemed to exchange a significant look.

Miss Hatto lifted the white collar of her lady’s-maid’s black dress, allowing Afton a glimpse of the gleam of steel and the jet-bead head of a long hat pin. ‘Like I said, I can take care of myself.’

Afton was intrigued. ‘Do you always keep that there?’

‘Always,’ she said. ‘You done with those shoes?’

‘Just a quick buff,’ Afton said. Meekly he gave them a rub and handed them over, and Miss Hatto walked away down the corridor.

Miss Taylor gave Afton a disparaging look. ‘You show too much,’ she said. ‘And it’s not her that needs a hat pin.’ And with this gnomic pronouncement she walked away in the other direction, leaving Afton to wonder.

Rachel enjoyed the wedding and the visit, except for a nagging fear that her mother had not done with her yet. But the day of their departure came, and nothing had been said. When she rose from breakfast the prince gave her a kiss on the cheek and called her his pretty daughter, and said he wished her great happiness. Her mother left the table without looking at her at all, so she believed she had escaped. It was too late to give her a tirade now. The packing was all done and they had only to put on their coats and hats.

When the carriage was at the door and they were making their farewells, Mama beckoned her aside, and her heart thumped with alarm. How could she have underestimated her? If she wanted to scold, she would make her own occasion.

But the princess, having looked her over critically, said in a voice of unexpected mildness, ‘I have not spoken to you of wedding presents.’

‘W-wedding presents?’ Rachel stammered, thrown off balance.