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The goat in the corner had awoken and was chewing lazily at the corner of her blanket. It was a thick, sturdy quilt, colourful and of fine quality. A chill ran down Sofia’s spine, goosebumps rising in memory of the cold nights she lay shivering under a blanket much thinner than the one the goat now enjoyed. Blasted goat probably ate better than she did as well. It’s a shame I can’t stay.

Sofia shook her head. “I can provide a well-rounded academic education, but it’s not the sort of curriculum that would serve Lady Nora. My childhood lessons encouraged me to question, explore, and debate … exactly the opposite curriculum required to raise a well-behaved English girl.” She allowed herself one final look around. “It was very nice meeting you and Lady Nora.”

“At last! A governess who won’t run screaming from Nora’s skeleton collection. Wherever did you find her, Mrs Janewood?” Both Bennett and Mrs Janewood leapt to stand at the sound of the cheerful voice, but before Sofia could follow suit, they settled back into their seats.

Turning, Sofia found herself eye to eye with the largest rooster she had ever seen.

The woman spoke again from behind its fluffed feathers. “I am sorry to interrupt. Brutus has been after Caesar again, and I’m afraid he’s wounded him quite badly this time.” Sofia craned her neck to glimpse a view of the woman producing the disembodied voice, but it was impossible to see anything beyond the “wounded” rooster. Caesar, apparently.

He didn’t look hurt. Sofia didn’t see a drop of blood on him. Mostly he just looked annoyed … and so fat he could feed half the people in her village a solid meal.

With a squawk, the rooster squirmed lower in the woman's arms, allowing Sofia a glimpse of wide cornflower-blue eyes partially obstructed by a tangle of golden curls. While some small part of her locks remained in a complicated aristocratic style, even those seemed ready to topple at the slightest provocation. The strands which had already escaped appeared to have a life and ambitions of their own, actively leading a mutiny against any sort of restraint. Sofia guessed she and the woman were about the same age, but the woman appeared younger, devoid of the bored expression perpetually worn by adults.

“Nora found her in the apple orchard,” Mrs Janewood replied.

It took Sofia another moment to realise they were discussing where precisely she had been “found.”

“I suppose that’s as good a place as any. Would you be so kind as to offer Miss Lioni a tour of the estate and show her to her room?”

Sofia’s breaths grew shallow. No. There is no way this woman is the duchess. But there was absolute authority in the statement, however ludicrous.

“But first …” The woman extended her arms. Indignant squawks joined the lively kitchen clatter, and feathers sailed through the air as the rooster flapped frantically. Bennett, who had been resolutely ignoring the conversation, jolted back in alarm, the legs of his chair lifting, then falling again with a thud.

“No.” Mrs Janewood crossed her arms as if worried the woman might slip the rooster into her hands if she didn’t tuck them away quickly enough.

“Please, Mrs Janewood. It won’t be for long.”

If it was possible for a pleading expression to alter one’s eye colour, Sofia would have sworn it had occurred. No one with a heartbeat could say no to those wide blue eyes. Sofia almost laughed when the housekeeper’s dubious expression softened.

Chicken Lady cocked her head to the side and blinked. “I can’t just leave him out there. He needs somewhere quiet and safe to convalesce, and when I asked Mrs Simmons if he could stay in here for the night, she threatened to roast him with vegetables.”

Yes. Because that is what you are meant to do with a chicken.

Ridiculous as the request was, the young woman’s expression was so sincere that Sofia would have cared for the rowdy rooster herself.

Mrs Janewood was made of sterner stuff, apparently. “So you want me to go over Cook’s head? She hasn’t yet forgiven me for agreeing to the troublesome goat over there! Have you no care for my comfort in this house? If I do this, she’ll serve me the burned portions of every meal for a month! Don’t we have a stall in the barn he could stay in overnight?”

“You know Ceasar hasn’t recovered from his fear of horses since Omen nearly trampled him.” Dinner has a name and a horse phobia?

“The goat shed, then.”

“He is allergic to ruminants. They make him sniffle and then his crowing sounds hoarse for days.”

The young woman didn’t blink or budge. She simply stood there waiting with a beseeching expression on her face, as if the rise and fall of a kingdom depended on the overnight care of a rooster.

“Oh, very well, Your Grace. Give me the blasted chicken. But when I starve, it’ll be on your conscience!”

“Rooster,” she corrected succinctly, handing off her burden with a grateful smile.

Oh good grief. She is the duchess. Sofia could find little beyond the use of a title to confirm that status. The woman’s accent was crisp, but a duchess wouldn’t have to beg and cajole a servant to do her bidding no matter how preposterous the request. Sofia had seen servants leap to obey all manner of ridiculous demands. Furthermore, if she was indeed the duchess, she must be the most jovial-looking aristocrat in existence. With deeply rutted dimples on rosy cheeks, she looked like she had just been racing across the countryside … or chasing farm animals.

The duchess turned that dimpled smile on Sofia. “I’m going to look even less like a duchess in a few hours. We’re starting construction on a loft for my goats.”

Sofia dropped her eyes to the floor. “Your Grace, I wasn’t⁠—”

“Of course you were. And you were quite right to think so.” She laughed a lilting, musical laugh that seemed to overflow like soap bubbles caught in a breeze. “I’m sorry I haven’t the time to speak with you now, but you should make yourself at home and I’ll search you out later this afternoon. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Lioni.” The duchess turned back to Mrs Janewood. “Oh, and introduce her to Cumulus and Nimbus, please. Lambs make everyone feel more at ease in a new home.”

This was happening far too quickly. Sofi liked Lady Nora. She also liked the slightly unhinged duchess. She was suddenly frantic to sabotage her hiring through whatever means necessary.