Page 1 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
Chapter 1
For the first time since she’d begun learning the piece, Lady Madeline had played through the first twelve measures of Bach’s Italian Concerto in F Major without once stumbling. She then heard the announcement, intoned as it was in Foster’s booming voice, reverberating throughout the halls of Aspendale House.
“Lord Oliver Hartwell.”
At this, she hit such a clatter of discordance that her teacher was inclined to jump in his seat beside her.
“M’Lady?” he said, turning his round spectacles down.
Her fingers lifted from the pianoforte keyboard and hovered there. Her mouth was agape. She turned to him. He had a face like an upside-down pear, and she stared at it.
“M’Lady,” he repeated, “are you ...”
“I’m hearing things, Mr Braun. What time is it?”
He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew his watch. “Half past the hour.”
“Oh dear,” she said, promptly rising.
“M’Lady, we’re not through yet with—”
“We’re through,” she called over her shoulder as she retreated from the parlour as if running from a fire.
When she reached her bedroom, she was delighted beyond the telling that Lisbelle was there.
“Oh, thank heavens,” she said, fighting the urge to throw her arms around her lady’s maid. “He’s here. He’s early. Or I’m late. I have no idea!”
She was already undoing the laces of her bodice when Lisbelle’s deft hands took over the task.
“Let’s just get you out of this, then, M’Lady. No need to panic.”
“Dear me,” she said, catching sight of herself in the mirror. “I look like ten frights.”
“Not at all, M’Lady,” said Lisbelle. “But we’ll get you cleaned up for Lord Oliver in no time.”
“How do you stay so calm all the time, Lisbelle?”
The lady’s maid gave a slight smile. “Me mum had nerves of steel. It runs in the family. At any rate, it’s wise to keep a man waiting. I’ve heard the Countess tell you that many a time.”
Madeline rolled her eyes. “My mother giving advice on romance. I suppose I should take medical advice from a butcher’s man.”
Lisbelle stifled a giggle. “If I may, M’Lady, the Countess did alright for herself.”
“I suppose,” said Madeline, finally calming a bit. “Gaining the hand of the Earl of Stamford was no easy feat, you know. She had to fight for him.”
“So they say, M’Lady.”
“My hair is ghastly.”
“Oh, pish tosh,” said Lisbelle. “But let’s just get this brushed and put up proper then, shall we?”
She ran a marble-handled brush through Lady Madeline’s auburn locks, following each stroke with a gentle sweep of her palm.
Lady Madeline closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath.
“There you go, M’Lady. You’ll look like a dream for Lord Oliver in no time. Ripe for popping the quest—”
She stopped mid-stroke and put a hand to her mouth.
