Well, no, she had not. Still, this was a guest.
‘We’re delighted to have you here,’ Anna said. ‘This is Allan Beattie and Pru Beattie. We are houseguests of Admiral Collingwood. You are our guest, and you are welcome.’
There was a long pause, and Anna wondered if she had said something wrong. ‘Princess?’ she asked.
For the first time, the young lady seemed less assured. She waved her hand. ‘As I said, my father is Conte de Callona, near Modena. You may call me Signorina Sofia.’
‘So we shall,signorina,’ Anna said.
That’s not quite so grand as a princess, she thought.At least I needn’t genuflect.
‘I am so tired,’la signorinasaid simply, then seemed to visibly rally. She held out a folded page. ‘These are my needs. See to them. Show me to your sitting room and I will wait there.’
John rolled his eyes, but thank goodness Signorina Sofia was looking at her, and not him.
‘Come with me and make yourself comfortable. I will inform our housekeeper that you are here.’ She took the paper and ledher into the sitting room, with its huge windows overlooking the back lawn and its slope to their own inlet.
When thesignorinawas seated and studiously ignoring them, John took Anna’s arm as she started towards the Durands’ kitchen domain. ‘Admiral Collingwood sent her to me via Fast Dispatch Vessel. Someone will meet her here in a few days and escort her by private yacht to England. Let’s see her list of demands.’
He looked over his shoulder. ‘Allan and Pru, please take my hat and duffel upstairs to my room. Thank you, dears.’
When they were out of sight, he sank into a hall chair and pulled Anna onto his lap. ‘I confess to growling at my crew and looking all squinty-eyed until Mr Marsing—imagine this—told me to stop acting like a surly idiot.’
‘He couldn’t possibly have said that.’
‘It was more like, “Sir, we’ll tie up in Port Mahon as soon as possible”.’
‘Serves you right,’ she teased, then unfolded the paper as he read over her shoulder. She read it again, amazed at its contents. ‘John, according to this…this missive, she must have an airy bed chamber that overlooks the sea, sheets changed daily, a bath every morning, absolute quiet until eleven of the clock each morning, and a maid to brush her hair and dress her. And she must approve of the daily menu.’
‘P’raps no one told her there is a war on?’ He sighed. ‘Let’s break the bad news to the Durands.’
Madame took the news with a sigh probably heard on neighbouring Mallorca. ‘Please assure me this is only a short stay.’
‘That is what the Admiral’s note said,’ John assured her. ‘Three days, maybe four.’
Madame thawed enough to tease, ‘And the bedchamber? I trust you will be giving up yours, as it is the only one that overlooks the sea?’
He chuckled. ‘Alas, Mrs Beattie and I had other plans…’
Anna felt her face grow warm, but Madame laughed. ‘Captain Beattie, I suspect that men are the same the world over.’
‘We must be.’ He had the continued good grace to give the housekeeper a courtly bow. ‘Anna and I will find a bed in a closet if we must!’
‘A closet?’ Madame Durand scoffed, then smiled. ‘I have a better idea. Come with me.’
Chapter Thirty-One
It wasn’t a closet. It wasn’t even unpleasant. Madame Durand asked Anna and John to follow her through the kitchen and past the garden. She pointed to what Anna had thought was a gardener’s shed, next to where the beans were already vining.
‘You may have noticed that Hector can be morose at times. When he gets that way, I banishmyselfhere.’
She opened the door with a flourish. Anna put her hand to her mouth in amazement. ‘Madame, this is… Words fail me!’
Madame Durand’s eyes sparkled, as though she had just pulled off the greatest surprise since the invention of surprises. ‘Even Admiral Collingwood has no idea. It is yours for as long as the ooh-la-lasignorinademands your bedchamber.’
John picked Anna up and carried her over the threshold. ‘Madame Durand, I echo my wife’s sentiments,’ he said. ‘We will be the envy of nations out here in the…ahem…gardener’s shed.’
Madame allowed herself a smile, then gave them a more pointed look. ‘You may tell this guest that yes, I will have a bath drawn for her daily, and yes, I will see to her sheets.’ She raised one finger and her expression grew militant. ‘But no one, not even the daughter of a count, will tamper with the menu in thishouse, as long as I draw breath! That is all.’ She made her stately way back to the house, posture impeccable.
