In the morning the Wottons and Henry had their breakfast from the table Aoife had laid. The girl herself entered the room soon after Henry, replacing the tea pot on the buffet, her face a mask of indifference. Henry saw his friend scrutinizing the maid – and that he liked what he saw. He could not blame him, really. A slender figure, rather tall, who carried herself very upright and moved about with great assurance; no wonder that he had mistaken her for a lady. Her hair was tied together and looked heavy under the bonnet. It was a touch more on the red side than he had thought. Well-shaped hands that did not look as if they could hit a man.

  Now she turned to Lady Wotton, did a curtsy and asked whether anything was amiss. Her voice was dark and alluring. Soft but not shy. The face was pale, but not sickly – rather immaculate. Boldly sweeping brows over the bright grey eyes, a straight nose, and these lips, the perfect mouth, even when it was not smiling. She looked untouchable and irresistible. The way she held her hands folded in front of her looked innocent, her face, devoid of expression, looked cold, but Henry did not doubt that every man in the room felt a wave of heat in her presence. Alfred was licking his lips. There was the prey. Even his father looked after her when she left the room.

  Alfred dropped the topic of the conversation immediately and asked his mother when she had begun hiring Irish servants. Lady Wotton frowned at her son and sighed. “The girl, my dear son, is not Irish. She was born in Australia and has no family. She arrived in England four months ago, out of the service of the late Mrs Daylesford. She has been with us for three months. You should visit more often.“

  Alfred laughed, suddenly in high spirits. “You are quite right, mother.“ Then he changed the subject once more, suggesting that Henry and his father, both of them keen horsemen, should ride after breakfast and make use of the mild spring weather. He himself needed to write some letters.

  Henry was disgusted. Alfred did not even try to hide his intentions. The girl would hardly be able to fend him off without endangering her position. She could take care of herself against people like Simmons, but a confrontation with Alfred was a different matter. Still, he agreed to the proposed ride. The scrambled egg in his mouth had turned to sawdust.

  When Aoife returned with a tray and adjusted some things on the buffet, Henry rose to get himself a glass of water. He stood beside her as she stocked up the toast that nobody was going to eat. Then he dropped his glass, which hit a plate on the buffet and fell to the ground. Together with the maid he bowed down to pick up the pieces. “I’m so sorry. Allow me.“

  “It’s fine, sir. Don’t trouble yourself.“

  He whispered, “Lord Alfred...“, but she just repeated, loudly and clearly, ?Please, sir, don’t trouble yourself.“ And before he could say anything else, she hissed, “Don’t do that again.“

  He left her to collect the debris and returned to the table, bereft of words for the second time – or was it the third? Alfred’s father rang for the butler and ordered the horses to be readied. The meal ended in everybody’s somewhat hurried departure.

  When Henry, accompanied by Porter, came down the stairs in his riding dress, Lord Wotton was already waiting for him. From the other side of the house Lady Wotton approached, giving orders to Aoife. Henry tried to avoid looking at her, but he froze when he heard Lady Wotton’s last words: “I hope I have not forgotten anything. Oh, I have – my medicine from Dr White! The apothecary should have it ready. If not, you must wait for it. And now we need to call Simmons so he can drive you.“

  When her mistress said Simmon’s name, Henry saw Aoife flinch. Lady Wotton might have seen through her son, but she had no idea what his servant was like. Removing Aoife from the house was a good idea, but not with Simmons!

  “Oh, Lady Wotton, that will not be necessary. My man Porter is about to drive into town to do some errands. I am sure your business will be right in his path, won’t it, Porter?“

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  Porter, who had no idea that he was going into town, said, “Right, sir.“

  Lady Wotton beamed at him. “Henry, that is splendid. Thank you so much. They are some personal things, but I fear I will forget them when the guests arrive. So very kind of you.“

  Aoife curtsied.

  When Henry and Lord Wotton mounted their horses, Aoife and Porter were crossing the yard. Henry’s Mercedes was parked under the shed. It was new, state of the art, Henry was very proud of it. Soon the car rolled away from the house. Henry thought how over the top it seemed that it had taken three people and a motor to protect a servant girl from a master. Whatever would they have to come up with next?

  Henry returned from the ride somewhat refreshed. Porter, Aoife and the motor were back only shortly before lunch. Porter knocked on Henry’s door ten minutes later. “All is well, sir.“

  “Thank you, Porter.“ Henry hesitated. Porter was reliable, and he must have seen through the ruse. Henry still felt the need to give his valet an explanation. “Miss O'Hare had an unpleasant encounter with Simmons last night. We do not want any more of that, Porter.“

  “Very well, sir.“ Porter’s face did not give away anything. Suddenly Henry wished that the man was a little less discreet. He did not particularly want to talk about the blow Aoife had dealt Simmons, but Porter had just spent three hours in the company of a woman who seemed to be able to upset a whole household, despite being only a servant. Henry found himself interested in Porter’s opinion. He, too, was a man, although easily twice the age of the girl. And three hours were a long time. They must have talked.

  Porter, having guessed his thoughts, offered some more information. “Miss O'Hare is quite able to hold out against men like Simmons, sir.“

  The statement was hanging in the air. Against Simmons, maybe. But not against Alfred.

  “I see.“ Did he? Did they really understand each other? Did he understand himself? “Lady Wotton seems to have taken an interest in Miss O'Hare as well.“

  “Lady Wotton is very satisfied with Miss O'Hare. Miss O'Hare is going to act as a maid to some ladies travelling without their own servants in a few days. Good servants are hard to come by, especially in the countryside. Miss O'Hare is going to be indispensable.“

  This seemed to be all the information Porter was going to volunteer. He had never been the man to report kitchen gossip. Henry resigned himself and said, “That is good to hear. I still think, even though it is none of our business, that it cannot do any harm if we were to watch out a little.“

  “Very well, sir.“ Pause. “Anything else, sir?“

  Henry shook his head, dismissively.

  In the afternoon, a little earlier than on the day before, Henry stepped out on the terrace and lit a cigarette. He waited. When he was lighting his third, the maid appeared beside him.

  “Good evening, sir.“

  He hid his relief, pretending to be surprised. “Good evening – Miss O'Hare.“

  She did not lose any time. “I’d like to thank you for your help this morning. And I want to apologize for my inappropriately harsh reaction when ...“

  “There is no need to apologize. You were upset, I understand.“

  There was a pause. She lit her own cigarette. Henry said, “I hope everything is well?” Aoife looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “That depends, I guess. Is everything well when a maid has to be so very careful not to catch her masters’ eyes?“

  Before he could reply, she lifted her hands in a gesture of dismissal. “I’m not talking about you, sir.“ And after another pause, “On the contrary.“

  There it was again, that smile. Henry realized that he was no better than Alfred. Not really. He wanted her. He, too, could not look at her without wanting her.

  As if he was not looking at her, she plucked a crumb of tobacco from the tip of her tongue, and then she continued, “As if a woman had no mind of her own.“

  Henry swallowed. “What is it that a woman has on her mind?“

  Aoife looked at him but did not say anything. Again she raised her eyebrows, mockingly. Henry cleared his throat, and then he said, “I do not sleep very well, you know. I read well into the night. Maybe the house is too quiet...“

  Without another word, Aoife dropped her cigarette butt in the flower pot beside her and left.