She immediately tensed. “Relax, I won’t touch you.”
She held her breath as he leaned forward, so that his breath brushed her temples. “Spiderwebs,” he breathed. “And a thick layer of dust.”
“Oh,” she said weakly. He was right. In the left corner was a thick, fat spiderweb, with no doubt the offending creature hiding as well, and possibly a dead fly or two hanging in its threads. And all the elaborate carvings were coated with a fine layer of dust.
“Quite atrocious, wouldn’t you agree?” His face hovered right above hers; she could count the fine blond eyelashes, the silver flecks in his blue eyes, and the faint lines of laughter at the corners.
Pippa shot up. If he hadn’t had the frame of mind to jump back in time, she would have collided with him, and that would not only have been rather painful but also a bloody affair—for his nose.
“I’ll clean it for you immediately.”
“Do so,” he said dryly, “for I have nightmares of having that spider fall into my open mouth as I sleep.”
It was easier said than done, for Pippa wasn’t tall, but the canopy was, so she stood up, yet even then she couldn’t reach the corner of it. How on earth was she to clean it? She jumped once, twice, but even then she didn’t quite reach. She would need a ladder, or a long stick, or a duster attached to a long stick… She jumped again with the cleaning cloth in her hand.
He grinned. “Take all the time you need; I shall washup in the meantime.” He turned to the washstand with a whistle and dipped his hands in it.
“Oh, and another thing.”
Pippa stopped jumping and glared at him.
“The water is quite cold,” he complained. “I can’t possibly wash myself in this. You must fetch me a new pitcher immediately.”
He madeher fetch two more pitchers of water; the first was too hot, the second too cold, and then he had her fetch a new bar of soap, for he wanted calendula soap, not lavender soap, for he did not want to smell like a blasted woman. And another set of towels, for he had already wiped his hands on the first, so he could not possibly wipe his face on it. The second towel was too scratchy; did she want him to irritate his face with it? She had to fetch another, fluffier one. After she had figured out how to attach her duster to a stick, she dusted and wiped the entire canopy, getting entangled in the heavy brocade curtains that hung from it, nearly toppling from the bed more than once.
She was hot, her face red, the cap had slipped off her head, and she was quite out of breath, and she was still struggling with getting the bedsheets changed, when the tapestry door opened, and the valet entered.
He froze in the doorway when he saw Pippa. “What in heaven’s name?—”
“Ah, Drimmel. Just in time for my morning shave,” the Archduke said, wiping his hands on the towels.
“Get yourself out of here, girl,” Drimmel hissed at Pippa.
“Do you see that girl, Drimmel?” the Archduke asked as he wiped his hands on the towel.
“Indeed, Highness. With my apologies, she is new and has yet to learn the etiquette of the place. She will be sacked on the spot.”
“No, no, she is to stay,” the Archduke said airily. “By my express order.”
“But, Highness?—“
“Her name is Anna. Anna Braun,” the Archduke informed him. “She is a chambermaid. Remember that,” he said with faint irony.
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Good. Get another maid to help her change those sheets. She is too small to lift that mattress on her own.” He glanced into the antechamber, where Henni was lifting a bucket. “You there.”
She dropped the bucket and hunched over; her head lowered.
“What is your name?”
“Henni, Your Imperial Highness.” Her whisper was barely audible.
“Henni.” He snapped his fingers. “Excellent. Look at me, child.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes round as saucers as she met his gaze.
“From now on, you are to help Pippa—I mean Anna—change the sheets and any other hard labour that she cannot perform on her own.” He flickeda glance at the slop bucket. “Find someone else to do this work. I want neither of you to touch it.”
