With This Ring Read Free Page B

a highwayman had stopped you on the other side of the river. He even knew that you wanted to meet with him in ‘alf an hour.”
    “The highwayman?” Beatrice asked blandly. “I’d rather avoid another encounter with him, if possible.”
    “No, ma’am,” Alice said impatiently. “His lordship.” The earl had certainly done a fine job of impressing his staff with an image of omnipotence, Beatrice thought. “You don’t say.”
    Alice nodded with a confiding air. “No one understands how his lordship could know things like that, but Cook says it’s typical. Finch says the master has his ways.”
    “Ah, yes, his lordship’s ways.” Beatrice took another sip of tea. “Alice, I hate to disillusion you, but I suspect that your master did not employ metaphysical intuition to gain his amazing foreknowledge. I think it far more likely that he simply opened a window and put his head out so that he could overhear my conversation with his butler.”
    Alice stiffened, clearly offended by the suggestion that the earl might have done something as ordinary as to eavesdrop. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m sure he didn’t do any such thing. Why ever would he stick his head out into the rain?”
    “Peculiar behavior, indeed,” Beatrice murmured. “Perhaps we may hazard a guess as to why he is known as the Mad Monk, hmm?’
    Alice looked crushed by Beatrice’s failure to be impressed with the earl’s mysterious ways. She backed toward the door. “Beggin’yer pardon, ma’am. Will ye be wanting anything else?”
    “That will be all for now,” Beatrice said. “Thank you, Alice.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” The girl departed quickly.
    Beatrice waited until the door closed. Then she picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. “I do believe I’m quite famished, Sally.”
    “Moi too.” Sally seized the largest slice of fish pie and a fork. “Ye can make light o’ that business with the ‘ighwayman, if ye want, ma’am. But I vow, we’re lucky to be alive. I saw the look in ‘is eye. A nasty sort.”
    “We were fortunate to have such a skilled coachman. Luckily John is not inclined to panic.”
    “Hah.” Sally shoved a large piece of pie into her mouth. “Coachmen are all alike. Reckless, they are. And drunk as lords most of the time. No, it was yer little pistol what scared off the bloke,, not John.”
     
    “I know it’s been a difficult journey, Sally. Thank you again for agreeing to come with me on such short notice. I could not drag my cousin and my aunt out of Town at this time. They had invitations to a most important soiree. And I did not want to bring my poor housekeeper along. Mrs. Cheslyn is not a good traveler.”
    Sally shrugged. “‘Ere now, don’t ye fret none. I was glad to ‘ave the opportunity to practice me French. I’ll be graduatin’ from The Academy soon and gettin’ ready to apply for work in a great household. Got to ‘ave me accent right, nest-ce pas?”
    “Your accent is improving daily. Have you selected a new name yet?”
    “I’m still torn between somethin’ simple like Marie and one with a bit more to it. What do ye think of Jacqueline?” “Very nice.”
    “Mais oui.” Sally hoisted her glass of gin. “Jacqueline it is.”
    Beatrice smiled. Fortunately for Sally and her atrocious accent, it was considered the height of fashion to employ a French maid. In the effort to obtain one, most of the ladies of the ton would willingly overlook a dubious accent. The simple truth was that there were not enough French maids, dressmakers, or milliners to go around. One could not be too choosy.
    Of course, she reflected, if any of Sally’s potential employers ever realized that it was notjust her accent that was questionable, but her past as well, things could become a bit more complicated.
    Sally, together with the rest of the women who went through The Academy, all had one thing in common. They had once eked out meager existences as prostitutes in London’s worst stews.
    Beatrice and