Page 20 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
Phee could see now that the servant was more girl than woman, close in age to herself perhaps. Still holding the broom, the girl walked over and stared up at her with wide blue eyes. She smiled broadly, revealing teeth that were slightly askew. “Are you the lady of the house?”
Now it was Phee’s turn to be taken off guard. “Why would you think that?”
“There’s a fanciness to your speech.”
One that was lacking in the girl’s Phee realized. Darling had the same sort of fanciness when he spoke. It was odd, but it did sound rather elegant, more so than the girl’s, which seemed to have harsher sounds. “You don’t know me then?” she asked, suddenly realizing that what had prompted her curiosity was the hope that someone on the other side of the wall might be able to help her remember.
The girl shook her head. “No, haven’t met anyone from over there. Knew someone was in residence, a’course, but it all seemed rather mysterious, comin’s and goin’s all hours of the night.”
“There’s really no one to meet except for me and Drake Darling. He owns the residence. I’m his housekeeper.”
Once again, the girl appeared astonished. “Oh, yes, I suppose I can see that, you being so tall. I wager you have no trouble at all reaching the top shelf in the linen cupboard.”
Phee couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I’m standing on a chair.”
The girl turned as red as beet. “Cor! Course you are. I wasn’t really thinking it out, ’cuz I know employers like their maids to be tall so they can reach things.” She scowled. “I’ll never work in a fancy house or climb to a high position. Never grew into my height. So here I am beating rugs.” Angling her head to the side, she studied Phee for several long moments. Finally she said, “You don’t strike me as a housekeeper.”
“Yes, well, apparently I am. I took a bit of a tumble and am having difficulty remembering things.”
“Sorry to hear that. What sorts of things?”
“Almost everything, it seems, except my name. I’m Phee.”
“Marla.” She puffed out her chest. “The housemaid.”
“Are there other servants?”
She nodded. “The cook’s in charge. Mrs. Pratt. Then there’s the footman, Rob.”
“Is it possible they might have met me?”
“Not likely or they would have said.” She blushed prettily. “We was always gossiping about who might be living there. Caught sight of the gent a time or two. Ever so easy on the eyes.”
“Is he?” Yes, of course he was. She didn’t know why she’d asked, but she didn’t like the notion of others ogling him, finding him interesting.
Marla nodded enthusiastically. “He is rather.”
Phee didn’t want to discuss Darling and his appeal. So she changed the topic by asking, “For whom do you work?”
“Mrs. Turner. She’s a widow. Gets lonely. Shame you’re not the lady of the house. You could come visit her.”
“I could visit her anyway.”
Marla shook her head. “Oh no, that wouldn’t be right. Domestics don’t socialize with the lady of the house.”
“Why ever not? I have plenty of time. There’s nothing to do over here.”
Appearing skeptical, Marla said, “I suspect you’re just not remembering all you need to do. Perhaps I could come over tomorrow and help you get a bit more situated. Don’t want you to lose your post.”
She wasn’t certain that would be such a tragedy but if she lost it, where would she go? How would she eat? “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Marla looked apologetic. “Sorry. I’ve got to finish up with the rugs before Mrs. Pratt comes to scold me for dawdling. Ever so nice to meet ya.”
Then she was gone, back to beating on the rug. Phee thought she could take some delight in that chore, after all. Beating out her frustrations. Surely she had met someone around here, someone who could tell her more than Darling could. It was inconceivable that they were so isolated from their neighbors. On the other hand, he didn’t seem to be very social, and his hours seemed incredibly long. Out all night, sleeping all day. When did he have time for fun, the theater—
She loved the theater. Stage, opera, concerts. She relished them all. She was rather sure of it. How could she afford to go? Obviously she spent little on her clothing so she could spend her coins on entertainment. What plays had she seen? Shakespeare?Midsummer—
“What the devil are you doing?”
