Twelfth Night Secrets Read Free Page B

aside so that she could precede him up the stairs. “How was the journey from London?”
    “Tedious, but no worse than that,” she responded with what she hoped was a cool smile. “I gather your retriever does not sleep in the kennels with the other dogs.”
    “No. They have a tendency to bully her, and I’ll not have her spirit broken,” he stated, following herup. “When she’s old enough to hold her own, then time enough.”
    A somewhat sentimental attitude to a sporting dog, Harriet thought, but one she could only applaud. It seemed strangely sensitive, though, in one who was as ruthless as he was said to be.
    They parted company on the galleried landing above the great hall, Harriet going towards her own apartments at the front of the house, his lordship taking the left wing to the guest apartments. The double doors to Harriet’s bedchamber and boudoir stood open. Lamplight filled the spacious chamber, and a bright log fire burned in the grate. A very young maidservant, in the midst of unpacking her ladyship’s trunk, turned as Harriet entered and curtsied. “Good evening, m’lady.”
    “Good evening.” Harriet smiled pleasantly, closing the double doors behind her. “How warm and welcoming it is in here.” She raised an interrogative eyebrow. “You’re new to Charlbury, aren’t you?” She unclasped her cloak.
    “Yes, m’lady. Agnes, at your service, ma’am. My ma’s been ’ead parlor maid for five years, and I was took on in the scullery first. This is my first jobabovestairs. I’m to be your lady’s maid, and I ’ope to give satisfaction, m’lady.” She looked anxiously at Harriet as she curtsied again. “I’m a dab ’and with the flat iron, ma’am, and even Ma says as ’ow I’m a first-rate seamstress.”
    “I’m sure we shall deal very well together, Agnes,” Harriet responded with a friendly smile, guessing that her own reputation for being an easy and undemanding mistress had influenced the housekeeper’s decision to place this child with her for her first essay into the rarefied world of ladies’ maids. “Would you ring for some tea?” She cast her cloak over the back of an armless chair and went to warm her hands at the fire.
    Agnes pulled vigorously on the bell rope beside the fireplace and picked up the discarded cloak, hurrying to hang it in the armoire. “What gown will you wear this evenin’, m’lady? I’ll take it to the laundry room for a touch-up before you dress. Everything’s a bit creased from the trunk.” She gestured to the scattered piles of richly colored silks, muslins, and velvets spread out upon the bed.
    Harriet looked them over. The guests for the annual Christmas house party would not be arriving until tomorrow. She had arrived a day early to ensure that all the arrangements were in hand for their receptionand the entertainments to follow. Her grandfather, of course, would take care of the gentlemen’s pursuits and would already have arranged with his steward and gamekeepers for hunting and shooting parties, but many of the ladies required a succession of less energetic enjoyments. And, of course, there was food. The constant supply of delicacies, both solid and liquid, was essential to the success of a house party.
    But for this evening, the family would dine alone and informally. Except, of course, for the guest who was already there. Harriet frowned. Her grandfather’s guest list had included the Earl, but he had said nothing to her about inviting him ahead of time. Bedford had told her that Marbury would be a member of the house party but, again, had failed to mention his premature arrival. It seemed to imply a friendship between the Duke and the Earl that went beyond their shared connection to Nick and despite a considerable age difference. And Lionel wanted the children to join them at dinner, which was unheard of except in a very intimate family setting. So how long had he felt so close to Julius Forsythe? And why, if they were old