She had just moved away to talk with another guest when the baroness came barreling down on me, still beaming. “Vonderful news,” she said. “My kind friend the Dowager Countess Sophia has invited me to stay at her house. She has a good German chef and central heating and plenty of hot water. I shall take Hannelore and stay there.”
Oh, dear. I didn’t think the queen would approve of Hanni being under the same roof as Siegfried. My life seemed to be one continual stepping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Chapter 12
Fortunately Hanni flatly refused to move to the dowager countess’s house.
“But I like it with Georgie,” she said. “The queen wishes I stay with Georgie.”
“But Your Highness needs a chaperone,” the baroness said. “What would your father say?”
“Georgie will be my chaperone. And Irmgardt will stay to look after me.”
The baroness went to say something, looked hard at me, then closed her mouth again. I could tell she was torn between her duty to the princess and the good food and warmth that awaited at the dowager countess’s house. Finally she nodded. “Very well. But you must not leave London without me and I insist that I accompany you to all official functions. Your father would expect it.”
And so it was settled. Baroness Rottenmeister would move out the very next morning. I went to bed feeling optimistic for the first time in weeks. I awoke to a bump, a yelp and someone creeping around my room. I sat up, terrified. “Who’s there?” I asked.
“Sorry, m’lady,” said a voice from over near the window, and a curtain was drawn back, revealing Mildred. “I was bringing up your morning tea, but I’m not yet familiar with the layout of your furniture and I bumped into your dressing table. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
She came across to the bed and placed a tray on my bedside table. The tray contained a cup of tea with a biscuit beside it. “When should I run your ladyship’s bath?” she asked.
I was beginning to see that this maid business might have some advantages. At home at Castle Rannoch we had never indulged in luxuries like tea in bed. I was contemplating lying there, reading the
Times
and sipping tea, when I remembered that I had a busy morning ahead of me: I had to see the baroness suitably transported to Park Lane and clean Mrs. Bantry-Bynge’s house. How on earth was I going to manage that?
“And what are your ladyship’s social engagements for today?” Mildred asked. “What outfit may I lay out for you?”
I could hardly say that I was going to sweep floors and wear a maid’s uniform. “Oh, nothing special. A skirt and jersey. I can select them myself when I’ve had my bath.”
“Certainly not, my lady. I am here to give service and service I shall give.”
I sighed as she brought out a linen skirt and a silk blouse. Both had already been miraculously cleaned and pressed. Somehow, somewhere I was going to have to change from the clothes Mildred wanted me to wear into my uniform.
“You may run my bath now, Mildred,” I said. “I have a morning visit I must pay”—then I remembered the happier news of the day—“and the baroness will be leaving us, so maybe you could assist Irmgardt with her packing.”
I bathed, dressed and put my maid’s uniform into a carrier bag, then I went downstairs to find my guests already at breakfast. In honor of the baroness’s departure Mrs. Huggins had made bacon and kidneys and the baroness was devouring them as if she had been starving for months. “At last. Good
Fleisch,
” she said, smacking her lips.
I hoped the
Fleisch
wasn’t so good that she had changed her mind about moving in with the dowager countess.
“I’m afraid I have to go out for a while this morning,” I said. “I expect Hannelore would like to accompany you to Park Lane to make sure you are comfortably settled.”
“Where do you go?” Hanni asked.
“Oh, just to visit a friend.”
“I come with you,” Hanni said firmly. “Is boring with old broads.”
Oh, dear. “I’m afraid the friend I’m going to visit is very elderly herself,” I said. “Bedridden, in fact, and not very well. I visit out of duty, once a month.”
“I can come and make her happy,” Hanni said. “Old women in bed like to see young smiling faces.”
“Not this one. She only likes to see people she knows. Otherwise she becomes confused. And of course she has a rash, but I don’t think it’s catching.” I heard a gasp from the baroness.
“Princess Hannelore will come with me,” she said.
“Good idea.” I heaved a sigh of relief. “I will call to escort you home in time for a rest before the party.”
“I am thinking it is my duty to come to this party with Her Highness,” the baroness said.
This day was turning into one complication after another.
“I’m afraid you would have a most disagreeable time,” I said. “It will be young people and jazz music.”
“Highly unsuitable,” the baroness muttered. “I don’t think her father would approve.”
“My father wants me to meet young people,” Hanni said.
“Young people of good family,” I added. “And I promise to watch over the princess at all times.”
The baroness snorted but I think was relieved to get out of an evening of jazz, not to mention debauchery. I offered my maid’s services to help her pack, my butler to summon a cab and transport her luggage, and then I slipped down to the servants’ quarters to change into my maid’s uniform and slip out through the servants’ entrance without being seen.
“So your little plan worked, did it?” my grandfather asked. “The old Kraut is off?”
“Yes, thank goodness. I told her you’d summon a cab and take down her luggage for her.”
“Is she taking that maid, that Fireguard person, with her?” Mrs. Huggins poked her head around the kitchen door.
“No, Irmgardt is the princess’s maid. She’ll obviously be staying here,” I said.
Mrs. Huggins sighed. “Gives me the willies, that one does. Drifting in and out like a black shadow, staring at you with a face that could curdle milk.”
“She can’t help her face, Mrs. Huggins, and she doesn’t speak English, which must make it hard for her.”
“I’ve tried teaching her English words but she don’t seem too eager to learn. Thick as a plank, if you ask me. And downright unfriendly.”
“I don’t suppose the Germans think more kindly of us than we do of them,” Granddad said. “But she won’t even take her meals down here with us. Puts her food on a tray and then takes it up to her room. What with her and your Miss Lah-dee-dah . . .”
“Mildred, you mean?”
“Frightfully posh, she is. If she sticks her nose in the air any higher, she’ll fall over backwards,” Mrs. Huggins said.
I had to laugh. “Yes, she is rather annoying, isn’t she? But it won’t be for long, I promise. It’s no easier for me, I can assure you. At least we’re getting rid of the baroness. And I have to go out, I’m afraid.”
I slipped into the downstairs cloakroom, changed into my maid’s uniform and crept out of the tradesmen’s entrance when no one was looking. I had to get through my assignment at Mrs. Bantry-Bynge’s as early as possible. Mrs. B-B was not due until the afternoon, but I had once encountered her gentleman friend. He had been rather too friendly and I had no wish to fight him off again. I assumed that men such as he were not early risers so I hoped to complete my work unmolested. I took the bus to Regent’s Park and had the whole thing done before noon, without any embarrassing encounters with men in blazers, then I went home to change out of my maid’s uniform before I went to Park Lane to collect Hanni.
When I arrived home I was greeted by my grandfather.
“The princess isn’t back yet, is she?” I asked.
He had a strange look on his face. “No,” he said. “But there was a telephone call for her while you were out. It seems the piece of jewelry she saw this morning at Garrard’s is ready to be delivered. They pointed out that they require C.O.D. for an item of that price. Apparently it’s emeralds.” He watched me wince. “That young lady needs watching,” he said.
“You can say that again.” I sighed. “Yesterday she tried to sneak a handbag out of Harrods. Now I suppose I’ll have to explain to Garrard’s that there has been a mistake. I just hope she didn’t have it engraved.”
“That’s what happens if you keep girls locked away in a convent,” Granddad said. “They go off the rails when they get out. If I were you, I’d let the queen know what you’re going through, and ship Her Highness back to Germany. Nothing good ever did come out of that country!”
“Beethoven. Mendelssohn. Handel,” I pointed out, “and Moselle wine. And I thought you’d taken a fancy to the princess.”
“She seemed a nice enough little thing,” he agreed. “But she still wants watching. She don’t think like you and me.”
I suffered an embarrassing interview at Garrard’s, during which I had to hint that madness ran in the princess’s family, then I went to Park Lane to bring Hanni home.
“But Siegfried escorted her back to your house immediately after luncheon,” the baroness exclaimed. “I don’t understand.”
“She probably just went for a walk,” I said. “It is a lovely day.”
“That girl needs a good spanking,” the baroness said. “I should not have let her out of my sight. Perhaps I should come back to your house after all. I am neglecting my duty.”
“I’ll go and find her right away and keep a closer watch on her,” I said. “I’m sure there is nothing to worry about.”
Of course I wasn’t at all sure. I didn’t mention the Garrard’s episode. My grandfather was right. The sooner she was shipped back to Germany, the better.
I had no idea where to look for her and had visions of her rifling Harrods or buying up Bond Street at this very moment. I walked around aimlessly for a while then came home to find that Hanni had returned and was resting. She had fallen asleep and looked positively angelic. My opinion of her softened. She was, after all, a very young girl in the big city for the first time. She just didn’t know the rules yet.
Chapter 13
Belinda called for us at eight. She was wearing the outfit she had made me model for Mrs. Simpson—black silk trousers with a white backless top. Stunning on her, of course—an utter disaster on me. I felt positively dowdy in my flowing taffeta panels made by our gamekeeper’s wife. Hanni wore the same pale pink affair she had worn to dinner the first night. She looked the way a princess should look in fairy stories. I half expected to see her followed by dwarves.
We could hear the party in full swing as we pulled up in the taxicab outside St. James’s Mansions. The deep thump thump of a jazz beat and the wail of saxophones floated down into the refined air of Arlington Street, making a pair of old gentlemen, on their way to their club, wave their canes and mutter about the youth of today and what they needed was a stint in the colonies or a good war in Africa. The flat was in one of the big modern blocks that overlook Green Park. We rode in the lift to the sixth floor and as the doors opened, we were hit by the full force of the sound.
This was no gramophone recording. They had a full jazz band in there!
The front door was unlatched and Belinda didn’t wait to be invited in. She went straight in and motioned for us to follow her. We stood in the square marble entrance hall, overwhelmed with the level of music. An archway led to the main living room. The lights were low and a smoky haze hung in the air, but I got an impression of white walls, low chrome furniture and highly modern paintings. At least I think they were paintings. To me they looked as if someone had hurled paint at a canvas and then jumped around on it. The carpet had been rolled back and the parquet floor was packed with gyrating couples. A colored jazz band took up most of the dining alcove. There was a bar in the hallway, with a steady procession of young people in the most fashionable evening clothes passing to and fro with cocktail glasses.
The only parties I had been to in my short and dull life had been the coming-out balls during my season, all taking place in well-lit and well-chaperoned ballrooms—at which the strongest concoctions had been punch with a hint of champagne. Apart from those there were the Christmas parties at Castle Rannoch with Scottish reels and bagpipes, plus the odd summons to Balmoral for the royal equivalent. But nothing like this. This was the sort of sinful, smart party I had dreamed of. And now I was here, I was overcome with awkwardness.