“No, the regular is fine. Don’t go to any trouble.”
“No trouble, Miss. But we can’t read your mind so don’t be afraid to speak your preferences.”
The younger maid bowed slightly after speaking what her nervous eyes revealed she deemed disrespectful. It appeared the news had hit the grapevine. The American runaway had returned and was to be treated like royalty. They’d barely set the coffee and plate of poached egg, toast, ham and a bowl of oatmeal on the tray when the door swung open again and a woman wearing a suit entered.
“Good morning, my lady. My name is Abigail Grishom and I’ve been appointed to be your secretary and counselor of state. I will arrange your schedule and assist you in learning the responsibilities of your upcoming role.” She stopped at the bottom of the bed and pulled the remaining drapery to the side. “His Majesty gave permission for you to sleep in this morning, but it is now half past nine and your first appointment will arrive within the hour.”
“I have an appointment?” Megan bit off a piece of toast and gulped coffee to settle the butterflies in her stomach.
“Yes, Lady Fairchild.” Megan started at the name she’d acquired while sleeping. Ryan had been busy. The woman prattled on. “The seamstress has an impossible task in such a short period of time. Skilled workers have been called in from the village to help. The first thing to be addressed is your appearance, my lady. The family Christmas is mid-week and the ball is in six days where you will be announced. You do want to make your King proud, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” said Megan as she took another bite, pushed the tray off to the side and jumped out of bed. A maid reached for the tray but Megan rescued the coffee cup.
“Thank you, ladies,” Megan said while in her mind she sympathized with the grumbles in her tummy. Good thing lunch was in two hours.
“A quick clean up will be sufficient and you can wear this silk housedress. It will be easier for the staff to measure and plan your wardrobe.”
“I do have tailor-made clothes in my suitcase.” She neglected to add they’d be wrinkled from her hasty pack job last night; but they were hers and she loved them.
“You may discuss options with Ms. Chester. She is pleasant enough and will entertain your style preferences.” Ms. Grishom tapped her hands together. “Well, don’t just stand there, my lady. The clock is ticking.”
Megan fled into the washroom and began to prepare for her first official meeting – if designing a wardrobe was considered official. She wondered what Ryan was doing. Probably much the same, being fitted for new clothes to wear to the ball. Appearances appeared to be a big deal at the castle; something she’d have to get used to.
A light tap sounded, followed by an arm dangling the silk lounger in mid-air through the slight crack in the doorway. “You forgot this.” Megan snatched it from the hand and closed the door again. Not off to a good start. The staff grapevine would be buzzing today.
Ms. Chester arrived in her suite promptly at ten fifteen with two helpers in tow. They stood at a distance staring at Megan, fingers drumming under their chin and disjointed grunts of mental design forming behind their eyes. Megan was relieved when they actually spoke, voicing ideas while she pivoted as gracefully as an awkward baby fawn under close scrutiny.
“Lot’s of work to do, my lady,” said the middle-aged woman who appeared to be in charge of the trio.” If you have objections with our choices please share an opinion and we will take it under advisement. We want you to be comfortable in your wardrobe but at the same time portray your position as the King’s wife and new Queen.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that,” said Megan.
As the morning sped by, Megan realized these women knew their jobs. They explained how each style change enhanced her figure, but when the stylist turned her attention toward Megan’s hair, she cringed.
“Ryan… I mean King Ryannaus likes my hair long, so please keep that in mind,” said Megan.
“The King has a good eye, my lady. Length suits the shape of your face. Perhaps some trimming and shaping will help give it a touch of class, and a good moisturizing program is needed. I will slot the appointment in with Ms. Grishom.”
“Perhaps you can teach me some new ways to wear it?” asked Megan.
“No need, my lady. I will arrive regularly to help you prepare for the days events.”
“Like going to the hairdresser every day?” Megan asked.
“The hairdresser will come to you, my lady.” She moved aside and Megan heard a groan from the other side of the room. Ms.Chester had opened her suitcases.
Megan hurried over. “Sorry about the mess. I left in a bit of a hurry last night.”
Abigail Grishom moved in behind Megan. “There is no need to apologize to the help, my lady. Please remember your new station.” Ms. Grishom frowned at Ms. Chester. “Take the garments to the laundry and have them cleaned. There will be times when our new Queen will want to wear some of her favorite older garments – should the occasion be appropriate.”
“Thank you, Ms. Grishom. I appreciate that,” said Sandra
“Once again. No need to thank the help.”
“I disagree. Everyone has feelings, no matter their status in life, and if I can brighten one’s day with a mere show of appreciation for their efforts on my behalf, I will continue to do so.”
Ms. Grishom curtsied slightly. “As you wish, my lady.”
When Ryan appeared at her door at noon, she nearly fell into his arms but waited patiently until the room cleared before pulling him aside. He responded to her embrace
