Carla Kelly by Miss Chartley's Guided Tour Page B

water, she was only too grateful to hurry their
preparations and close the door on them. The thought of a bath was
almost enough to make her mouth water.
    Even though she
had not time for the luxury of a long soak in the tub, Omega washed
her hair, scrubbed herself briskly, and took an idle moment to sit
in the warm water, her chin resting on her drawn-up knees,
contemplating the strange workings of fate.
    She made idle
circles in the water. How was it that Matthew was the Viscount
Byford? It was a title unknown to her. She looked across her knees
to the dressing room and the rows of beautiful clothes. Why
would he do such a thing? She sighed and splashed the circles. How little I really know of him. How strange is the human
mind .
    “ Now,
if I were a Roman,” she said, “I would put it down to the
capricious humor of Jupiter. As it is, I must blame dreadful
coincidence and awful fate.”
    It was a simple
matter to dress quickly, not dwelling overmuch on the dainty
underthings and other personal items in the drawers. She gave her
hair a vigorous brushing and wished for the millionth time that it
did not curl in such an exasperating fashion. “This is not the hair
of an educationist,” she told the mirror.
    Exasperation
always led eventually to resignation. With a sigh that came all the
way from her shoes, she found a pretty lace cap and planted it
firmly on her curls, resolving to indulge in no more peeks in the
mirror. There was work to be done.
    Angela and Jamie
had not yet returned when she entered the main hall again. The
gardener had brought in an armful of flowers. She followed him
downstairs and located a large crystal vase.
    “ Mrs.
Wells was going to place this epergne on the table,” said Tildy. “I
took the liberty of sending my brother for flowers
instead.”
    “ That
was a much wiser choice,” replied Omega, eyeing the monstrous
silver centerpiece. “Rather quelling, isn’t it?”
    “ Yes,
and it does not fit our dining room.”
    Our dining
room. Omega liked that. Obviously the servants of Byford’s house
had taken the place to their hearts. It spoke well of Matthew
Bering.
    “ Beg
pardon, Miss Chartley?”
    Had she spoken
out loud? “Oh, nothing, nothing. Here, Tildy, would you like me to
arrange these flowers?”
    “ Oh,
yes, if you would. I’m all thumbs with flowers, and Twinings asked
me to hurry with the front hall so I can polish the silver. It has
been a long time since we had any company, and some of his
lordship’s best pieces are quite tarnished.” She paused a moment
and took a good look at Omega. “And, Miss Chartley, how well that
dress fits you! Blue is surely your color.”
    “ Oh,
my, thank you,” said Omega in some confusion. She had not heard a
compliment in years. “Hadn’t you ... hadn’t you better hurry with
the upstairs front hall?”
    Omega arranged
the flowers in the vase, wondering how Angela and Jamie were
faring, wondering if Hugh could carry off his charade, wondering if
Matthew should see a doctor. Matthew Bering. If people had told her
at the start of her holiday that she would be arranging flowers in
his house, she would have thought them all about in their heads. It
remained only to see Jamie safely settled here. And surely there
might be a place for Hugh in Byford, and Angela , too. Omega kept thinking of Angela’s eyes
as the girl had looked about the house. Surely there must be a
place for Angela.
    The chef came to
admire the flowers, speaking in his rapid French and gesturing
grandly to her. Omega’s schoolroom French had been mutinously
learned and quickly forgotten. She could only smile and nod as the
cook went on and on, and wish Angela were here to
interpret.
    He paused and
looked at her inquiringly. Omega nodded and smiled again, and then
squeaked in alarm as the Frenchman grabbed her around the waist,
pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her lips.
    She looked around
wildly for assistance, but she should not have worried. As suddenly
as he