Page 5

“Where did you put the eggs, Cook?” Emma rummaged through the box where perishable food was stored. “I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Well, you can’t be looking hard enough, then. I knew you two would have no cooking sense.” Cook stomped over to the box and flung it open. Her search, however, proved as fruitless as Emma’s. “Well, I’ll be. We’re out of eggs,” Her scowl returned with a vengeance and she bellowed, “Who was the fool that forgot to get eggs from the market?”

Not surprisingly, no one raised her hand.

Cook scanned the room, her gaze finally resting on a young maid who was hunched over a pile of berries. “Mary,” she called out. “Are you done washing those yet?”

Mary wiped her wet hands on her apron. “No, ma’am, I’ve still got pints and pints to go. I’ve never seen so many berries.”

“Susie?”

Susie was up to her elbows in soapy water as she hurriedly washed dishes.

Emma looked around. There were at least a dozen people in the kitchen, and all of them looked terribly busy.

“Well, this is just dandy,” Cook grumbled. “Four hundred to cook for, and I’ve got no eggs. And no spare hands to go fetch more.”

“I’ll go,” Emma volunteered.

Both Belle and Cook looked at her with expressions that were somewhere between shock and horror.

“Are you crazy?” Cook demanded.

“Emma, it simply isn’t done,” Belle said at the exact same moment.

Emma rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not crazy, and why can’t I go to the store? I’m perfectly able to fetch some eggs. Besides, I could use a little fresh air. I’ve been cooped up inside all morning.”

“But someone might see you,” Belle protested. “You’re covered with flour, for goodness sake!”

“Belle, I haven’t met anybody yet. How could I be recognized?”

“But you can’t go about in your maid’s frock.”

“This frock is exactly why I can go out,” Emma explained patiently. “If I wore one of my morning dresses, everyone would wonder why a gentle lady was out without an escort, not to mention on her way to the market for eggs. No one will look twice at me if I’m dressed as a maid. Although you certainly cannot accompany me. You’d be spotted in a second.”

Belle sighed. “Mama would kill me.”

“So you see…if Cook needs all her help in the kitchen, I am the only solution.” Emma smiled. She smelled victory.

Belle wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, Emma. This is highly irregular, letting you go out by yourself.”

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “Here, I’ll pull my hair back tightly just like our maids do.” Emma hastily rearranged her hair into a bun. “And I’ll spill some more flour on my frock. And maybe smear a little on my cheek.”

“That’s enough, now,” Cook interjected. “We don’t need to be wasting any of my good flour.”

“Well, Belle?” Emma asked. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Mama wouldn’t like this one bit.”

Emma put her face very close to Belle’s. “She isn’t going to hear about it, is she?”

“Oh, all right.” Belle turned to all of the kitchen maids and wagged her finger. “Not one word of this to my mama. Does everyone understand?”

“I don’t like this at all,” Cook said. “Not at all.”

“Well, we haven’t much choice, have we?” Emma put in. “Not if you want cakes at the ball. Now why don’t you put Belle to work squeezing those lemons, and I promise I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.” And with that, Emma grabbed some coins out of Cook’s hands and slipped out the door.

Emma took a deep breath of the crisp spring air when she reached the street. Freedom! It was so nice to escape the confines of her cousins’ home every now and then. Dressed as a maid, she could walk along unnoticed. After tonight, she’d never again be able to leave the Blydon mansion unchaperoned.

Emma turned the final corner on the way to the market. She took her time as she ambled down the sidewalk, stopping to glance in every store window. Just as she’d expected, none of the ladies and gentlemen out strolling gave more than a passing glance to the small, red-haired maid covered with flour.

Emma hummed cheerfully as she entered the bustling market and purchased several dozen eggs. They were a little awkward to carry, but she was careful not to grimace. A kitchen maid would be used to carrying such burdens, and Emma did not want to spoil her disguise. Besides, she was fairly strong, and it was only five short blocks home.

“Thank you very much, sir.” She smiled at the grocer, nodding her head.

He returned her grin. “Aye, you new around here? You sound as if you hail from the Colonies.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected questions from the grocer. “Why, yes, I did grow up there, but I’ve been living in London now for many years,” she lied.

“Aye, I’ve always wanted to see America,” he pondered.

Emma groaned inwardly. The grocer seemed ready for a long, engaging conversation, and she really needed to get back home before Belle started worrying about her. She started backing out that door, smiling all the way.

“Now you come back sometime, little missy. Who did you say you worked for?”

But Emma had already scurried out the door, pretending that she hadn’t heard his question. By the time she was halfway home, she was in high spirits, whistling happily, quite certain that she’d pulled off her charade without a hitch. She walked slowly, eager to prolong her little adventure. Besides, she enjoyed watching all the Londoners go about their daily business. In her maid’s costume, no one paid her any mind, and she could stare quite shamelessly as long as she looked away whenever anybody glanced back at her.