“Bless you, what a memory,” Cloris said, clapping her hands with a gleeful smile.
“Lucky guess, I’m sure,” Agnes said.
“Are you sisters?”
“We are,” they spoke in unison.
“I’m one year older,” said Agnes heavily, as though the year she’d waited for her sister to be born had been interminable. She wore her thick chestnut hair pulled back and fastened severely at the nape of her neck, while her cheerful sister wore hers in a coronet of braids with tendrils framing her face.
“You’ve met my lady’s maid, Tessie?” Ana asked, as Tessie entered the room.
“Pleased to meet you,” the sisters said in unison.
“Thank you, kindly.” Tessie seemed a little awed by the two older maids. She ducked her head shyly. “I’m not really a lady’s maid.”
“You are,” Ana said.
“The truth will out,” Tessie insisted. “I was a scullery maid before milady, that is Her Grace, promoted me.”
“You don’t say,” Agnes said with a baleful expression.
“You’re doing a wonderful job,” Ana enthused. Tessie had been her only friend at the London townhouse when she’d arrived and the two of them had grown close.
“We’ve been waiting for this day ever so long. A bride at Drakefell Castle!” Cloris wiped at her eyes with her apron. “It makes me weep tears of joy. This castle has been silent and lonely for far too long.”
“Don’t be maudlin, Cloris, we’ve much work left to do,” Agnes said grimly.
“Do you think I might be assigned a smaller chamber?” Ana asked. “I might get lost in this cathedral of a room.”
“Oh no, this is your chamber, Your Grace, it adjoins that of His Grace. When it’s time, he’ll visit you here tonight.” Cloris pointed and spoke in hushed tones. “Through those doors.”
Ana studied the wooden doors, carved with twining vines. She said it so matter-of-factly but Ana’s imagination had run wild. Dex, opening the doors, wearing nothing but his black silk dressing gown that could be opened with one swift tug on the sash...
She gulped. “I... I hope I shall be ready.”
“Never you worry, Your Grace, we’ll prepare you, won’t we, Agnes? We’ll give you a nice hot bath to wash the travel grime away.”
Tessie began unpacking Ana’s clothing while Cloris and Agnes undressed Ana in preparation for her bath, which was being poured into an enormous bathing tub by a brigade of maids.
“Ow, what was that?” Ana twisted around. It felt as though someone had pinched her.
“Just me, Your Grace.” Cloris grinned. “Making sure you’re real. We’ve been longing for the duke to take a wife for so long, it feels like a dream.”
“Cloris!” Agnes remonstrated. “Behave yourself.”
“We didn’t think you’d be so young, though,” Cloris said, with a note of uncertainty.
Agnes helped Ana into a green silk dressing gown and tied the sash, a bit too tightly. “Is she up to the task, I wonder?” she muttered.
“Which task?” Ana asked.
“Why, winning the duke’s heart and restoring his good humor!” said Cloris. “He’s entirely too grave and taciturn. Ever since he came back from the war, he thunders around the countryside dressed all in black, frightening ladies and children alike with that scarred visage and his glowering looks.”
Ana nearly tripped over the hem of her overlong dressing gown as she walked with the maids toward the tub. “Seems a tall order.”
“I’ll say,” Agnes agreed.
“Don’t you worry, Your Grace. We’ll help you.” Cloris untied her sash, slipped off the robe, and both sisters helped Ana into the tub.