By the time the sisters returned to the kitchen they could not contain their laughter. "Did you see the Server's eyes right before she sat?" Mary roared, "I tell you, never have I been so delighted. And then, Lady Phillips ran her hand beneath her and . . ."

Elizabeth abruptly stopped laughing, "Oh Sister, we have been very cruel. She'll not be able to eat a bite."

"She can't, she dare not show her red hand!" When the Server entered, he stopped near the doorway and seemed to be studying her again. Mary instantly changed her demeanor, "Must you always stare at me?" She grabbed a bucket and headed for the back door. "No matter, you'll not be staying long." She yanked open the door and walked out.

In her upstairs bedchamber, Lady Phillips grabbed hold of the bell rope and yanked repeatedly. Her eyes hot with fury, she slowly filled her lungs and let out a high-pitched screech, "Elizabeth, come here! I demand you turn down the bed at once!"

Elizabeth scrambled through the door and quickly curtsied, "Yes, Mum." She glanced disdainfully at her idle sister, rushed to the four-poster canapé bed and pulled back the green and yellow patchwork quilts. Candles in holders on faded yellow walls flickered above dressers, overstuffed chairs and sitting tables.

At last, Lady Phillips let go of the bell rope and turned her glare away from Elizabeth. "What do you look at, Mary? Come away from the window this very moment!" Huffing only slightly when Mary didn't obey, she grabbed a wet rag off of her dressing table. She lifted her nightshirt, twisted her body and wiped the back of her thigh. "I will never be rid of this vile stickiness."