Page 10 of Hooked

“You were staring at him out the window just the other morning.”

I dropped my gaze, refusing to meet her eye. “I was watching the children.”

“He likes you.”

“He—” I started to protest, but Emeline skewered me with her eyes and I deflated, finishing my declaration with a weak, “doesn’t.”

She just hitched her eyebrows a bit further to show her disagreement.

I let out a sigh. “He’s very confusing.”

It wasn’t until that afternoon that I realized I didn’t know where my thimble had ended up.

4

After more than a month at Sutton Manor, I was starting to feel at ease, accepted by the staff and comfortable in my duties. Then a maid found me as I was sweeping off the rug in Marilee’s dressing room. Her face was doused in confusion as she said, “The princess requests your company out on the veranda.”

Oh. Was this… “The veranda?” I asked, hoping to glean more information.

“For tea,” she answered, her confusion deepening.

“Yes,” I tried to say with a smile. “It’s an unusual habit Her Highness developed when it was only her and us at Bridgefield.”

The maid blinked but didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what I expected her to say. I just wanted to provide some clarity to the glaring breach in protocol. Princesses did not have tea with servants.

The maid left, having delivered her message and taking her consternation with her. I squeezed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and finger. I truly hoped that this did not put me in an awkward position with the other maids.

I set my broom aside and brushed off my apron before making my way downstairs. Whether or not it would strain my relationship with the other servants, when a princess summons you, you go.

I stepped out onto the veranda as a footman finished setting out the cutlery then straightened and caught my eye. He tried to keep his face blank, but there was a slight glare in his gaze.

I couldn’t blame him. It was all highly irregular and showed blatant favoritism.

Marilee arrived a moment later, tugging Emeline by the hand. “Come, sit down,” she said as Beatrice trailed out after them. “I’ve missed this.”

The footman pulled out Marilee’s chair and she sat down with a brilliant smile and a happy sigh, which caused him to look further befuddled.

Emeline, Beatrice and I all sat without assistance. Asking other servants to wait on us would be more than just irregular. It would be insulting. The footman bowed and left to stand just inside the doors.

I had to say something. “Princess?”

“Yes, Cecily?” she asked with a bright smile as she reached for a pastry.

“Do you think it’s a good idea for us to continue this habit?”

She blinked in surprise. “Of course! Why would it not be?”

“Well…” Oh, how I wished to convey my worry without hurting this dear woman’s feelings. “When it was just us at Bridgefield, it was all well and good to bend the rules and do as we wished, but now, with you as mistress of the house, and a full staff who might take offense to such a thing…”

She was shaking her head.

“These are good people,” I continued, noting that the footman who stood just inside the door seemed to be shifting to better hear what I was saying. Good. I hoped he heard. “Loyal servants who will no doubt love you, but treating us in such a preferential way—”

“I won’t hear anymore about it” was her response.

“But, Princess—”

“I understand that our friendship is unique and not the done thing, but I don’t care. People can learn to accept it, or they can ignore it. Either option is fine by me.” Her sudden shift from light and happy to serious and stern was jarring. “But they are not the ones who stood by me. They are not the ones who took on the running of an entire household when their half-crazed mistress fired all the other staff.”