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an artist, and the human understanding of a Viennese psychiatrist. She had two other kitchen maids to help her, but neither was competent enough to fill her old position of under-cook, and they had to be chivvied through even the most mundane tasks. Now she moaned to whoever would listen that she could not possibly prepare daily feasts for the Liripips, never mind the absolute banquets when there were guests, with an incompetent staff.
    But she had, for the past few weeks. The kitchen maids had gone to sleep after midnight on tear-stained pillows, but every bite, from delicate crustless cress tea sandwiches to haunches of venison to a splendid charlotte russe, had been perfection.
    Coombe, remembering that ecstatic Cherubino face, said, without much hope, “Perhaps she’ll do.”
    She would no doubt do for something, but probably not for kitchen maid.

Anna Is a Kissing Cousin
    L ADY L IRIPIP LOOKED THE NEWCOMER up and down, as if she were a Chippendale cabinet of dubious authenticity. “You look English enough. I remember your mother as a brown girl. I suppose your father is blond. How fortunate for you—his sort are so often swarthy, I gather.” She sniffed, and that sniff conveyed volumes.
    Only Anna’s strict self-training kept her from responding. Knowing her inadequacies, her gaps in learning and culture, she tended to remain silent whenever she was not absolutely certain what to say. Her mother did have light brown hair, though she could not imagine how Lady Liripip could have encountered her, and her father was indeed blond. And why should she not look English?
    â€œI have decided that if you are to be here it is absolutely necessary that we do not speak of your family. I will not do you the discourtesy of speaking ill of your father, and the easiest way to do that is to not refer to him at all. You are not responsible for the sins of your parents—
sin
is a hard word, I own, but there it is.” She sniffed again, and Anna wondered if she’d trodden on something when she’d exited the car.
    â€œYou are family, of sorts, and I embrace you, and forgive you for what you could not help. But while you are here you will be strictly English. I do not want to hear you converse in a foreign language. That is not done in this house. Even when we entertain ambassadors they are requested to speak our mother tongue. You will kindly not speak of Germany, or the stage. Follow those rules, comport yourself like a proper Englishwoman, and you will fit in quite nicely. I will guide you, my dear.” Lady Liripip smiled, and the effect was ghastly, like a mummy Anna had seen in the British Museum, its lips in a permanent rictus over too-long teeth. “Now come and kiss me, Hannah dear.”
    â€œIt’s Anna, my lady,” she said before she could help herself. “Anna Morgan.”
    Slowly, she was beginning to think that Lord Darling and the German Von had exerted rather more influence on her behalf than she’d dared hope. Where she was expecting to be incognito in the kitchen, here she was being welcomed by the lady of the house, into the very bosom of the family! Had Lord Darling revealed his plan to them? No, he wouldn’t have. Even if he had, it would be imprudent to speak of it. Had he given them a code name for her? Was that where Lady Liripip had gotten Hannah? Though if that had been part of Darling’s scheme, he surely would have prepared Anna to answer to a different name.
    This, at least, did not appear to be a blunder. Lady Liripip’s smile—which now looked almost predatory, so long and so numerous were her gleaming teeth—grew even bigger, and she said, “How sensible of you. Anyone would mark you as a Jewess with the name Hannah. I’m sure you had no say in the matter when your mother named you.” Anna had bossed her tractable mother from a very early age, but not so early as that. “But it is right and just of you to