Her Master's Touch Read Online Free PDF Page A

her curiously. “Is
my home familiar to you?" he asked.
    She blinked several times and vowed to be
more vigilant if further memories surfaced. “No, my lord," she
said. But when she glanced around at him, she knew he wasn’t
convinced.
    “I’ll keep that in mind, gypsy girl. I’ll
also alert Mrs. Throckmorton. She’s shrewd when it comes to
evaluating new staff." He climbed out of the coach and motioned to
one of his footmen. "Rana, take Miss Shirazi to Mrs. Throckmorton
for instructions," he said, then strode across the courtyard
towards the stables.
    A sense of foreboding crept over Eliza, but
she couldn’t decide if it was because disturbing memories were
beginning to surface, or if her mission at Shanti Bhavan was
already predestined to fail. All she knew for sure was, the next
few days would be critical, and she did not look forward to her
upcoming assessment by Mrs. Throckmorton.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Eliza followed the footman into a spacious
kitchen with a lofty ceiling designed to alleviate the heat. But
the heat clung, intensifying the odor of garlic and cooking oil,
and turmeric and ginger and cloves, and the cow-dung that heated
the huge baked-clay oven. The room bustled with dusky-skinned,
sweat-dampened, ayahs clad in white saris. One ground spices
on a stone. Another plucked a chicken over a blood-laden basket.
Others scrubbed floors or scoured copper cooking pots and
round-bottomed dekchis .
    The footman turned Eliza over to Mrs.
Throckmorton, who was testing the cleanliness of a shelf with the
tip of her finger. A tall, angular matron, Mrs. Throckmorton had
peppery-gray hair swept back in a tight bun, a pinched nose with
large oval nostrils, and a mouth that held an aspect of perennial
disdain. From a chatelaine about her narrow waist dangled the keys
to the various larders and linen cupboards, and perhaps the closets
containing the valuables. The opal would no doubt be locked behind
one of those doors. And Mrs. Throckmorton would no doubt sleep with
the keys close at hand, if not on her person. She turned to face
Eliza. "So you're to be a cook, I presume."
    Eliza dipped a curtsy. "No ma'am. His
Lordship said I was to be a housemaid."
    Mrs. Throckmorton eyed her with skepticism.
"I will clear it with his Lordship," she said, "and if you're lying
to me, girl, you'll be dismissed at once. Without references."
    "Yes ma'am," Eliza replied, submissively.
    Mrs. Throckmorton scanned the length of her.
"I was not expecting you, so you shall not be uniformed until
tomorrow. Meanwhile, that dress you are wearing will not do at all.
I trust you have something less shabby to change into."
    Eliza glanced down at her dress, the only one
she owned that did not label her gypsy, and said, "I have a skirt
and blouse, but it is not appropriate—"
    "It would certainly be better than the rag
you are wearing," Mrs. Throckmorton cut in. "You will change before
starting your duties today."
    "But, you don't understand—"
    "Do not be impertinent, girl. Do as you are
told. Then come to me, and I will provide you with an apron."
    A wave of panic washed over Eliza. The
clothes were those she'd worn to catch Lord Ravencroft's eye.
Perhaps if she plucked the bangles from the skirt and dispensed
with the colorful ties on the blouse, the clothes would not label
her gypsy. And the apron would cover the rest. "Yes, ma'am. Shall I
change now?" she asked.
    The woman pinned her with a hard-eyed look.
"Not until you learn your duties." She sucked in a breath, and said
while exhaling, "You will rise with the six-o'clock gong, tend your
personal needs and go directly to the parlor, where you will cover
the furniture with dust sheets, beat the curtains, sweep the floor,
strew moist tea-leaves on the carpets and sweep them up with the
carpet broom. Then you will go to the dining and drawing rooms and
do the same. The library and master study are locked when not in
use, so you will clean those rooms only under my supervision."
    Eliza's mind