“Anything?” Beatrice asked, a million mischievous possibilities running through her mind. What she could do with the ability to do anything? Not that she would. She wouldn’t take advantage of Lord Dunham that way, even if the idea of being allowed to do anything she wanted sounded fun. “So, if I wanted to take a tour of the estate, I could do that?”
“Of course, my lady,” Guinevere said, coming back with a dress in her arms. “I would be happy to give you a tour if that is what you desire, unless Lord Dunham wishes to show you around.”
“Is that what a lady’s maid does?” Beatrice asked.
After thinking for a moment, Guinevere admitted, “I don’t know.”
“Me neither,” Beatrice said, and Guinevere let out a chuckle.
“I suppose you wouldn’t,” she said. “Is it true that you were the librarian in town?”
Beatrice nodded.
“I never made it to the library in town,” Guinevere added. “We have the books here, you know, and I only go to town a few times a year. I don’t know what it will look like now, though. Maybe I’ll go to town with you?”
Beatrice took a deep breath. She had changed more than her own life in the moment she became Lady Dunham.
“I don’t know how it works either,” she admitted. “But speaking of town, can you please confirm that Lord Dunham sent a message to my friends in town? If Thea does not hear from me soon, she will send out a search party herself.”
“Thea certainly wastes no time when it comes to her friends,” Guinevere said as she began helping Beatrice into the gown.
“Oh, you know Thea?” Beatrice asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the café.”
“I’ve seen you there before,” Guinevere said with a smile. “But I don’t go often, and you are usually laughing with your friends when I do go. Do you not have an agreement with the young man I often see you with?” Then she blushed. “I’m sorry, that was an impertinent question. Forgive me, my lady.”
Beatrice laughed. “Dietrich? No, he and I are good friends who grew up together, but nothing more. But he will also be concerned for me if he does not hear that I am safe, and I would not be surprised if Thea sent him out this way.”
“He sounds like a good friend,” Guinevere said as she led Beatrice to the mirrored table against the wall. Beatrice sat at the seat in front of it, and Guinevere began pulling her hair away from her face.
“You have beautiful hair, my lady,” Guinevere said. “Fortunately, I do know what to do with hair. It may be the only quality I have that lends itself to being a lady’s maid, though.”
Beatrice looked up at Guinevere and smiled at her in the mirror. “I am glad that you are by my side for this adventure,” she said. “We shall figure it out together, and I think you and I shall be good friends.”
“I hope so, my lady,” Guinevere said. “Friends have been in short supply for me.”
“I hope so too,” Beatrice said. “Otherwise, I’m afraid I would be very lonely here. And I am very much looking forward to you becoming my friend.”
It might be the hardest thing about her new position as Lady Dunham. She had grown accustomed to visiting the café every morning and meeting her friends there and seeing all the patrons of the library.
She gasped. “The library! I also need to know if Lord Dunham has found anyone to take over the library. I cannot leave itunopened for long. I would suggest Eugenia to take over the position, at least temporarily.”
“I shall speak to Jenkins about it as soon as I am done with your hair, while you are breaking your fast. I believe Lord Dunham is waiting for you,” Guinevere said.
At the mention of his name, Beatrice’s stomach was suddenly full of butterflies, or perhaps a more violent winged animal—crows, maybe. “He’s waiting for me?” she asked, and to her embarrassment, her voice cracked at the words.
Maybe Guinevere hadn’t noticed.
Guinevere noticed, though, and gave her a look that Beatrice couldn’t quite decipher. “Yes, I believe he wished to break his fast with his wife. Should I send your regrets and ask for a tray instead?”
“No.” Beatrice shook her head. “I am able to face my husband. I have no qualms about dining with him. I was surprised, that’s all.”
Her voice wobbled on the words, and once again, Guinevere said nothing, but swiftly finished arranging her hair before smiling at her in the mirror. “You look beautiful, my lady. Your husband will be in awe of you.”
Beatrice assessed herself in the mirror. She had to admit Guinevere was right—she did have a skill with hair. It had been artfully arranged in a woven plait from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck. The rest of the braided hair swept over her shoulder, making it easy to contain when she put a cloak hood on. The dress that Guinevere had chosen was warm, made of wool, and would make her trip outdoors to tour the estate much more comfortable than the simple cotton dress she had worn to walk to the estate the day before. Guinevere had also found a pair of warm and sturdy boots for Beatrice’s feet.
“Thank you,” Beatrice said.
“Of course. Do you remember the way to the dining room, my lady?” Guinevere asked.
