The Princess & The Pea by Victoria Alexander

Author:Victoria Alexander
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2009-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Ten

Cece surveyed the remnants ofher rather hearty breakfast and suppressed a small, quite dainty, extremely feminine and totally ill-advised hiccup. Even her chat with Lady Olivia hadn't diminished the appetite the formidable lady's son had helped build. She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her intertwined ringers. The only crimp in an otherwise blissful day was Jared's continuing reluctance to allow her free rein behind the controls of his motorcar to pilot it on the open road.

Still, he had shown her how the machine worked. Indeed, his explanations were extremely thorough, to the point where she suspected she could take the vehicle apart and reassemble it herself, blindfolded. Thoughtfully, she sipped the last dregs in her teacup. She was so well versed on the principles and the practicalities of automobiles, perhaps she no longer needed someone to actually show her how to control the beast. Perhaps she could figure it out herself....

A throat cleared behind her. "I beg your pardon, Miss White?"

Lady Olivia's butler, Watkins, stood in the doorway.

"Yes, Watkins?" Cece cast him a friendly smile.

The servant's face remained expressionless. "It seems there is a problem."

"Oh?" How odd. What kind of problem would Lady Olivia's butler bring to her?

"Lady Olivia has a sick headache," Watkins said solemnly.

"I am sorry." Cece said sympathetically. "What a shame."

"She has retired for the remainder of the day."

"I see," Cece said slowly, not certain she saw anything at all. "And you're telling me because ...?"

"Lady Olivia said to inform you of the situation and request you take over preparations for tonight, since Lady Millicent and Mrs. White are otherwise engaged today."

Relief flooded through her. Whatever other quirks Phoebe White might have, she had raised both her girls to be flawless hostesses. Cece could handle an army of servants with the panache of a battlefield general. "I assume she has already prepared a menu? Informed the cook? Arranged for flowers? Music? Etcetera?"

"Her ladyship always arranges the flowers personally. She also selects them herself." The expression on the servant's face never wavered, but his voice held the slightest note of censure. "Her ladyship believes flowers express the soul of an estate, and she insists such a task should be handled by the family, not a gardener."

"Very well." Cece said brightly. If this was all there was left to arrange for tonight's dinner, she should be able to handle it with little effort. "I'm confident I can accomplish that to Lady Olivia's satisfaction."

"There is another problem." Watldns's voice seemed to echo in the close confines of the breakfast room.

"What is it?" Caution edged her tone.

"Her ladyship had arranged for a small group of musicians to play this evening." A gleam appeared in his eye. "Word arrived from London a few moments ago that they would not be able to attend."

She released an annoyed sigh. "What happened?"

Watkins shrugged ever so slightly. "Drunk, I think, miss, or dead. The message was not completely clear."

"Wonderful." Sarcasm dripped from the word. This was a bit more of a problem than flower arranging: still, nothing to panic over.

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