Fool Me Twice Read Online Free PDF Page A

blonde, she seemed to think her charms were universally applicable. Life would surprise her someday. “Nothing, ma’am. Only, somebody said you came to apply for the housemaid’s position—”
    That somebody could be none other than Polly, who returned Olivia’s sharp look with a shrug.
    “—and truth be told, you’re the youngest housekeeper I ever saw.”
    That, no doubt, was the truth—and the reason the staff mocked and japed at her. Jones, who spent most of his time hiding in the pantry, was not proving the confederate she’d hoped.
    But until she got the servants in hand, she dared not search the house. “How surprising to hear that,” she said. “The youngest housekeeper, are you certain? But I suppose I must take your word for it, your experience being so very broad. You having served in so many great houses, and traveled the world, vous avez même soupé à Versailles, n’est-ce pas? ”
    Muriel’s smile slipped. “I . . . I don’t speak that language, ma’am.”
    “No? What a pity. Do you speak the language of rug brushing and curtain beating?”
    Muriel cast a worried frown toward Polly, who had gaped at Olivia’s French, and had yet to close her jaw. “I don’t suppose I know that language, either,” Muriel said.
    Polly collected herself. “Dolt. It’s not a language. She’s saying, do you know how to brush a rug?”
    “Think carefully,” Olivia said. “It is the main requirement of your continued employment.”
    Judging by the startled alarm that flashed across their faces, the maids had not realized that she had the power to sack them. Indeed, Olivia did not feel so certain of it herself. She was, after all, “temporary”—and the household had lost too much staff already.
    Regardless, her threat had the desired effect. Bothgirls went hurrying to collect their maids’ boxes, which they had abandoned at the top of the stairs. Polly muttered something to Muriel. Only two words popped out: duke and drunkard.
    No wonder that the staff was wild. Marwick set them no good example. On the other hand, why did they humor his debauchery? Had they no self-respect? The task of a well-trained staff, particularly in a grand home such as this, was not merely to obey the master, but also to exert a civilizing influence. In some households, the staff even took pride in that role. And why not? Left unchecked, the excesses of the aristocracy would have outraged England into a revolution by now.
    But this staff cowered as though their duty and their dignity were mutually exclusive.
    “One more thing,” she called. Both girls turned to look at her. “You will take no more liquor to His Grace’s rooms.” Let him learn a lesson. For that matter, let him be deprived of new weaponry, in case she needed to enter his rooms again. “That is an order that applies to all the servants, footmen included.”
    They goggled at her. Muriel recovered first. “But if he rings, ma’am—”
    “You will come to me. I will handle it.” Somehow. She would deal with that problem when it arose.
    “The footmen don’t take orders from you,” Polly said.
    “No, they take orders from Mr. Jones, who is in agreement with me.” Or so he would be, after Olivia spoke with him. Marwick’s brutishness should carry repercussions. Besides, if he drank himself to death, his butler would be out of a job.
    *  *  *
    “Don’t move.” Olivia sat at the head of the table in the servants’ gallery, Jones to her right, Cook to her left, and Marwick’s valet, Vickers, at the foot. Together, the four of them sat watching the bells affixed to the wall, one of which had begun to ring again, for the third time that hour.
    “But we must answer him!” Vickers was round-faced, tonsured like a monk, and given to rubbing his bald spot when nervous. He was scrubbing it now vigorously.
    “He’s had his dinner,” Olivia said. “You were just upstairs. The only possible thing he could require from us is alcohol—or hot