When Maria arrived with breakfast of fresh bread, cheese and warm milk, the naked Cecilia was frantically searching for something. The Duke had gone long before Cecilia’s eyes saw daylight.
‘Confound the girl, where has she tidied it away?’ she complained. Then, realising she was no longer alone, she let out such a squeal of surprise that Maria jumped, inadvertently spilling milk over Cecilia’s prized Indian rug.
‘I am sorry, my lady,’ spluttered Maria, ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’ She placed the tray upon a small table of exotic design and began to wipe the carpet with the hem of her grey dress.
‘Don’t worry about that, leave it. Have you seen my quill?’
‘But the carpet will smell,’ implored Maria. ‘Your quill? No, I have not,’ she said as she continued to clean the spillage.
Ceci
