The butler backed out of the drawing room and disappeared up the stairs. Alyssa and Miranda took the opportunity to look around.
“I wonder what’s taking so long,” Miranda said, when long minutes had passed and the butler failed to reappear.
“I hope she’s all right,” Alyssa said. “Colin would never forgive us if anything happened to her while he’s away.”
“Madame is indisposed, Your Grace.”
The French lady’s maid bobbed a curtsy as Alyssa and Miranda turned at the sound of her voice and found her standing in the drawing room.
“Indisposed?” Miranda repeated.
?
?Yes, Your Grace.”
“I’m not Her Grace,” Miranda corrected, nodding toward Alyssa. “She is.”
“But of course,” the maid replied smoothly. “Please forgive me for not recognizing you, Lady...”
“St. Germaine,” Miranda replied, paying close attention to the maid. “You’re Lavery, aren’t you?”
“Yes, madame.”
“Then you should know me. You were with my cousin, Baron Chemsford’s, household, were you not?”
“Yes, madame.” The maid widened her extraordinary blue eyes and bobbed another, deeper, more respectful curtsy.
“And before that,” Miranda continued, narrowing her gaze, “you were with the Viscount Wensley’s household.”
“You have a good eye, if I may say so, Lady St. Germaine. And a good memory. As you say, I have been fortunate to be employed by the baron and the viscount as well as Lady Grantham.”
“Whom we have come to see,” Alyssa reminded her. “Now, if you would be so kind as to show us the way.”
“Madame cannot see you,” the maid insisted. “She is indisposed.”
Alyssa lifted her chin a notch higher and used the voice her mother always used on difficult servants. “She will see us. We have a message from her husband for her ears only. And I’m quite certain she would be very distraught if we were to leave without delivering it. Now, either take us to Gillian, or get out of the way so that we might find her on our own.”
The maid stepped back, then turned and led the way to the master suite.
“You do that very well,” Miranda leaned forward to whisper when the obstinate Lavery opened the door to the suite, then turned on her heel and left.
“I should,” Alyssa answered. “I had my mother do it to me often enough.”
Alyssa and Miranda crossed the yellow sitting room and knocked on the door of the closest bedroom. There was no answer. “Gillian?”
“In here,” she called from the doorway of the other bedroom. She was dressed in a loose-fitting morning gown, and her hair was fashioned into a neat chignon, but it was obvious that the maid hadn’t lied. Lady Grantham was deathly pale and in distress and not up to having visitors.
Alyssa set the basket of gifts on the nearest table and rushed forward.
Gillian attempted a curtsy at the sight of the duchess, but Alyssa stopped her. “Bother that!” She looked at Gillian. “Your maid told us you were indisposed and weren’t receiving callers, but we had to see for ourselves. Now, get back into bed before you fall down. We’ll only stay a few minutes.” She stood on Gillian’s left, and Miranda stood on Gillian’s right, and together, they walked her back to the huge master bed.
“Is there anything we can do?” Miranda offered as they helped Gillian back into bed.
Gillian blushed.
Alyssa raised an eyebrow in query. “Pardon me for being forward, but is it possible that you’re...” She paused and cleared her throat. “With child?”
Gillian shook her head. “Quite the opposite. My monthly has started with a vengeance.” She blushed. “Thank goodness Colin isn’t here. I would hate for him to see me like this.”