gate-legged table in the corner diagonally across from me. They were playing cards. Beat Your Neighbour or Happy Families? I smiled. Rather sweet their staying up way past the hour when nice little old ladies should be in bed.
“Ace takes king,” Hyacinth reproved, tapping her cards on the table. “I knew when you threw the three of spades and ducked the jack of hearts that you were not concentrating. I realize this has been an unusual day, but excitement generally keeps you on your toes.”
“So sorry, dear,” Primrose sighed. “I was thinking about the girl.”
“Wondering, no doubt, if she may not be a great deal of trouble.” Hyacinth picked up the cards and shuffled them before fanning them swiftly into two stacks. “One thing I will say for her, she does not appear to eat horrendous quantities. Watches her figure. Humph! Can’t say I blame her.”
“I imagine a great many men do likewise.” Primrose sounded thoughtful. “I have been fussing with the notion that she might be rather useful to us. Clearly well brought up as well as quite lovely. I imagine don’t you, my dear, that she would be rather pleased to make some small return for our hospitality?”
Not quite what the heroine had in mind, I thought, but assisting Butler and Chantal with a little light housework would provide excellent cover for my investigations.
“That might be treading on sticky ground.” Hyacinth was examining her cards. “Can’t feel he would be pleased, and in all fairness one could not blame him.”
Butler?
“One faces the question of propriety,” she muttered. “Capitalizing on her youth and physical attributes isn’t quite nice, is it?”
How quaint and old-fashioned they were. Jogging three or four laps around the rooms with the Hoover wouldn’t kill me. Unless ... if the house had to be swept from attic to cellar with a dustpan and brush I could see her point. Primrose did not.
“Fiddle. I think, my dear, you are exaggerating what would be asked of her. Not that I suggest we actually voice a request ...”
Had I made a slight sound? Naturally I felt a little miffed at the prospect of being given orders like a parlour maid, but I didn’t think I had gasped in outrage. Primrose had, however, turned her head towards the door. I must not be caught here like a thief in the night. I must make for the stairs. But, alas, hampered by having to hold up my skirts I was prevented from feeling my way. Speed was out. All I could do was mentally cross my fingers and trust the sisters would attribute any sound to the wind, whimpering dispiritedly around the house.
But all was well. No cry of “Halt, who goes there?” My body brushed the bannister knob and I stole up the stairs. Slowly, steadily, one tiptoe at a time. I was in no state to fake a desire for warm milk. Almost at the top. Almost safe. What ... what was that? The wind? But the wind had not sounded so fierce a moment ago.
Now it had broken through the house and with a huge gusting rush slammed into my back, pitching me painfully forward. Not the wind. The snarling menace that held me pinned down against the floor and was burrowing into my neck had a face covered with fur and a huge wet tongue.
----
Chapter 4
Being used to dogs, I realized that Minerva’s greeting was violently enthusiastic, not hostile, and she had the decency to exercise sufficient restraint not to bring the Tramwells running. No wild crescendo of barks! Crawling out from under, I told her she was my favourite animal in the world, but could we please get better acquainted in the morning? Reaching up for a fingerhold on the next step I continued my wary ascent, with man’s best friend making playful snatches at my hem. Couldn’t this prove a nightmare with me waking to find myself scrunched up in my pygmy bed? Scratch the nightmare idea. In the ways of their topsy-turvy horror, I would probably find Hyacinth and Primrose had flown up to wait for me, glassy-eyed, at the top of the
“Ace takes king,” Hyacinth reproved, tapping her cards on the table. “I knew when you threw the three of spades and ducked the jack of hearts that you were not concentrating. I realize this has been an unusual day, but excitement generally keeps you on your toes.”
“So sorry, dear,” Primrose sighed. “I was thinking about the girl.”
“Wondering, no doubt, if she may not be a great deal of trouble.” Hyacinth picked up the cards and shuffled them before fanning them swiftly into two stacks. “One thing I will say for her, she does not appear to eat horrendous quantities. Watches her figure. Humph! Can’t say I blame her.”
“I imagine a great many men do likewise.” Primrose sounded thoughtful. “I have been fussing with the notion that she might be rather useful to us. Clearly well brought up as well as quite lovely. I imagine don’t you, my dear, that she would be rather pleased to make some small return for our hospitality?”
Not quite what the heroine had in mind, I thought, but assisting Butler and Chantal with a little light housework would provide excellent cover for my investigations.
“That might be treading on sticky ground.” Hyacinth was examining her cards. “Can’t feel he would be pleased, and in all fairness one could not blame him.”
Butler?
“One faces the question of propriety,” she muttered. “Capitalizing on her youth and physical attributes isn’t quite nice, is it?”
How quaint and old-fashioned they were. Jogging three or four laps around the rooms with the Hoover wouldn’t kill me. Unless ... if the house had to be swept from attic to cellar with a dustpan and brush I could see her point. Primrose did not.
“Fiddle. I think, my dear, you are exaggerating what would be asked of her. Not that I suggest we actually voice a request ...”
Had I made a slight sound? Naturally I felt a little miffed at the prospect of being given orders like a parlour maid, but I didn’t think I had gasped in outrage. Primrose had, however, turned her head towards the door. I must not be caught here like a thief in the night. I must make for the stairs. But, alas, hampered by having to hold up my skirts I was prevented from feeling my way. Speed was out. All I could do was mentally cross my fingers and trust the sisters would attribute any sound to the wind, whimpering dispiritedly around the house.
But all was well. No cry of “Halt, who goes there?” My body brushed the bannister knob and I stole up the stairs. Slowly, steadily, one tiptoe at a time. I was in no state to fake a desire for warm milk. Almost at the top. Almost safe. What ... what was that? The wind? But the wind had not sounded so fierce a moment ago.
Now it had broken through the house and with a huge gusting rush slammed into my back, pitching me painfully forward. Not the wind. The snarling menace that held me pinned down against the floor and was burrowing into my neck had a face covered with fur and a huge wet tongue.
----
Chapter 4
Being used to dogs, I realized that Minerva’s greeting was violently enthusiastic, not hostile, and she had the decency to exercise sufficient restraint not to bring the Tramwells running. No wild crescendo of barks! Crawling out from under, I told her she was my favourite animal in the world, but could we please get better acquainted in the morning? Reaching up for a fingerhold on the next step I continued my wary ascent, with man’s best friend making playful snatches at my hem. Couldn’t this prove a nightmare with me waking to find myself scrunched up in my pygmy bed? Scratch the nightmare idea. In the ways of their topsy-turvy horror, I would probably find Hyacinth and Primrose had flown up to wait for me, glassy-eyed, at the top of the
Similar Books
