kept up with unless she had run, and that would have drawn so much attention to her that it would end all her usefulness here.
She lost Minnie and came face-to-face with Mrs. Newsome.
“If you have nothing to do, girl, go and help in the kitchen,” Mrs.
Newsome said tartly. “There are plenty of dishes to wash. No wages for daydreaming.”
“Yes, Mrs. Newsome.” Gracie had no choice. And there was nothing more to learn in the laundry anyway. She went to the kitchen and did as she was told.
By lunchtime she was exhausted, and knew she was wet and crumpled. What would Samuel think of her now? And she wasn’t even learning anything useful! She could not work out what Minnie thought she had found.
Gracie ate her cold mutton, pickle, and mashed potatoes, keeping her eyes on her plate. Her mind raced: broken china that didn’t fit any of the tea services, buckets of water carried up and down stairs; descriptions of the street women-why had Minnie Sorokine asked about these things? They were ordinary enough. Did she really think she had discovered something?
Yes, of course she did. It was in her voice, in her eyes, in the way she raced along the corridor. But was it something to do with the murder, or just whatever romance she was planning? Was it something to prove her husband’s innocence?
Later, when Gracie was tidied up and her dress changed, with a clean apron on to carry up extra sandwiches for afternoon tea, she saw Minnie Sorokine again. This time she was standing in the gallery in a beautiful muslin afternoon dress with frills on it like foam and cerise pink ribbons. She was quite obviously flirting with the Prince of Wales, who stood in the sunlight flooding in through the bay windows. He was looking at her and smiling. She was asking him something and he was happy to answer, except once when Gracie saw a swift frown and then a moment’s awkwardness.
“Snooping again, are you?”
Gracie swung round to see Ada standing no more than a yard away, a look of satisfaction in her face. Gracie felt the color rush up her cheeks because she had no answer to save herself.
“Eavesdropping on your betters,” Ada went on. “Well, if yer out ter learn ’ow ter flirt, yer couldn’t do better than watch that one! I never seen as good. But she’s out o’ your class. Yer get caught watchin’
’Is ’Ighness an’ you’ll be out before night, I can assure yer.” She said that with obvious pleasure. “But yer in’t goin’ ter get me thrown out fer not watchin’ you proper, so one more time yer cross me, miss, an’
I’ll tell Mrs. Newsome wot yer like. It’s my turn ter carry out the slops.
Yer’d like ter do them for me as a favor now, wouldn’t yer?”
However much she might dislike it, Gracie had no choice but to agree. She was here to learn all she could that might help Pitt, not to carve herself a career at the Palace. She went obediently and worked at fetching all the slops and emptying them, washed out all the bowls and jugs, then had to change into another clean dress and damp down and re-press the first one.
She was late for supper and Mrs. Newsome told her off in front of all the others.
“You’re going to have to learn to keep up, Phipps,” she said coldly.
“You can’t be coming to table late like this. It is discourteous and it inconveniences everyone. You must learn to fit in. It’s not always easy, but if you cannot manage it, then you are not right for this position.
Perhaps you are a little too old to accommodate yourself.”
Gracie felt the anger boil up inside her as everyone along both sides of the table turned to stare at her. She ached to be able to tell them she had no intention of staying here any longer than was necessary to help Mr. Pitt and Mr. Narraway. But of course she could say nothing. To defend herself would betray a confidence that would make her role unbelievable. She drew in breath to apologize, the words all but choking her under Ada’s triumphant gaze. In that instant it became a rock-hard certainty that Ada was doing this precisely to get her dismissed. Ada saw Gracie as some kind of threat.
She must have sensed a strength of will in her, because it was certainly not her looks. As even Samuel had said, she was the size of a rabbit.
In spite of the danger, Gracie felt a surge of elation.
“You are being too quick, Mrs. Newsome,” Mr. Tyndale said with an edge to his voice. “The circumstances are unusual at the moment.
Everyone is frightened and shocked by what has happened-”
“Phipps was not here when it happened,” Mrs. Newsome interrupted him. “She cannot use that as an excuse.”
“It was not Phipps who raised the issue, Mrs. Newsome.” The color was high in Mr. Tyndale’s face now also, and his hand on the table was clenched. “It was I. Before you spoke, I was about to say that none of the staff is behaving as usual. I have noticed several other irregularities. But with the police questioning people, and guests who are plainly under a great burden of anxiety, and even greater fear than ours, we cannot expect the same standard of conduct from anyone as we would at any other time.”
Mrs. Newsome opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Her lips were white, her eyes burning with anger and embarrassment. He had curbed her, quite sharply, in front of the junior servants. Judging from the silence all around the table, that was something that had not happened before. Gracie was surprised to feel so uncomfortable for her.
“Continue with your supper,” Mr. Tyndale ordered, and one by one they all picked up their knives and forks again and began to eat, conscious of every movement, every sound. No one spoke, not even to ask for the salt or the teapot.
Gracie’s mind raced. She had seen Ada’s look of anger and puzzle-ment, and she knew it would not be long before she worked out how to launch another attack. Next time it might even compromise Mr.
Tyndale. He had been unwise, at the very least, to expose his position as Gracie’s defender, and Ada had unquestionably noticed it.
Mrs. Newsome would not forget that either, and both Gracie and Mr. Tyndale would probably have to pay. This rivalry, anger, and ma-nipulation was something she had not even thought about before. In comparison, Keppel Street seemed an island of peace, nothing to do but tasks she was used to and knew she did well. No one to answer to most of the time, and when there was, it was only Mrs. Pitt, who, in spite of being born into gentry, never gave herself airs.
Gracie wondered if she would be as happy as Mrs. Pitt when she married Samuel! It would be a totally new experience and she would lose all the little things she was familiar with. She was taken aback to realize that as well as excited, she was also a little afraid, even sad.
Of course, if Mr. Pitt did not solve this horrible crime, then everything might change, probably for all of them. And if it did, would Gracie be able to leave them at all, even to marry Samuel? It would seem like a desertion. She might even have to stay and work without any pay, just her food. Not that she would mind that; it would be fair.
Gracie finished her rice pudding and declined another slice of bread and jam. When they had all put down their knives or spoons, she rose and waited a few moments to see which way Mr. Tyndale was going, then followed after him. She hoped everyone else assumed she was going to apologize.
She caught up with him in the pantry. She wanted to close the door, but she remembered the speculation that had caused before and left it ajar. She spoke very quietly. This was desperately awkward, and she had to do it immediately, before she lost her nerve.
“Mr. Tyndale, sir,” she began, “I’m very grateful that you stood up for me, ’cos Ada’s making things right awkward, which is why I were late. But you didn’t ought ter, ’cos yer can’t tell no one why I’m ’ere, an’ being the way they are, they’re gonna think summink else, wot in’t fair.” She took a deep breath. “You gotter stay ’ere, sir, but I don’t, so it don’t matter wot they think o’ me.”
He looked embarrassed. She was suddenly terribly sorry for him.
This place and the people in it were his whole life, the reason he believed in himself. Perhaps he had found some way to come to terms with the things he disapproved of: the strange women who came at night, for what reason he must know; the guests he might not care for, either for their manners or their purposes in being here. Many of them would take advantage, and there would be nothing he could do.
And now there was murder, and he still had to try to keep it all quiet and everything working as usual. Would
