Bad Miss Bennet by Jean Burnett

me from the room. There was no sign of Mr Getheridge.
    The gentleman’s intentions were obvious as he led me along a corridor into the bare, half finished part of the pavilion. I protested that I did not wish to dally on a building site when my unknown admirer turned abruptly towards a panelled wall and pressed a switch. The panel opened revealing a narrow, dark and uninviting staircase. I recoiled but my companion seized me by the waist and urged me forward.
    â€˜This staircase leads to the King’s Head Inn. We will not be disturbed there, my dear. The prince had it constructed for that purpose.’ I broke free and gave the man a hard shove causing him to topple down the stairs with a loud yell. I closed the panel and sped off realising that I had solved the mystery of the noises at the inn. Selena would be gratified.
    Immediately I lost my way, taking many turnings in search of the revels before reaching a small anteroom. A door bearing the Royal Arms led into a larger chamber. The door was ajar and I could hear voices. I applied myself to the opening and saw Mr Getheridge talking in an agitated manner with the prince’s private secretary. I could only catch a few words but the name of Adam Von Mecks was mentioned several times.
    At that moment the sound of approaching footsteps forced me to flee again. Once more I rushed blindly along into the uninhabited section of the pavilion. As I turned back and ran around corners I could hear music in the distance. I must be heading in the right direction. My heart was pounding and I was becoming quite damp from my exertions. My hairdo would be ruined. It would collapse like one of Monsieur Careme’s sugar confections after the prince had prodded it with his fat finger.
    I slowed down and almost collided with a footman who appeared from nowhere. Dizzy with emotion and relief I seized the man’s lapels and begged him to conduct me back to the state rooms.
    â€˜Are you in trouble again, my dear?’ the footman remarked as I looked up at the sardonic smile of Jerry Sartain.
    I gasped out, ‘So it was you! Whatever are you doing here?’
    â€˜More to the point, what are you doing here? The arrangement was that you would remain in the gaming room earning money for both of us.’ I have been forced to follow you as you leapt around like a March hare.’ I knew I should not allow him to speak to me in this fashion but, against my will, I heard myself meekly apologising and explaining my adventures up to that moment.
    â€˜Are you going to tell me why you are posing as a footman?’
    â€˜To keep an eye on you, of course; you cannot be trusted not to get yourself into ridiculous predicaments.’ I did not believe this explanation for one minute. I wondered if he knew about the corpse on the sofa but he made no mention of it.
    â€˜It is not a pleasant situation for me,’ he went on. ‘The footmen sleep nine to a room in folding beds and the atmosphere is far from fresh, I assure you.’ He took my reticule from my unresisting hand and removed the money. With some reluctance, I thought, he returned a portion of it to me.
    I smiled at him as he led me back to the state rooms. ‘The livery suits you well.’ He gave me a peck on the cheek and pushed me gently towards the gaming room.
    What a fool I was, simpering and complimenting him like a love-sick swain. Our positions have reversed. I was paying court to him and he knew it very well. I must take care that I do not propose marriage to him. This penchant for penniless villains must be overcome at all costs.
    As if summoned, Mr Getheridge appeared from the gaming room, mopping his brow and looking gloomy once again. He did not comment on my prolonged absence. I wondered if he had even noticed.
    â€˜Ah, there you are my dear. Shall we take some cold drink and a little fresh air in the gardens? The heat is becoming oppressive.’ Indeed, the hot, jasmine laden air was