What Would Jane Austen Do? Read Online Free Page A

night, and Karen Simms put me in here."
       "I don't be knowing no one by that name, but they made a terrible blunder. This be the mistresses' suite. Miss Deirdre won't like a stranger sleeping in her bed."
       Eleanor didn't want to hear more about the ghosts. "I'm sure everything will be fine." She got up and put on the robe she'd left on the foot of the bed. "My luggage should be arriving from the airport, if it hasn't already. I'd appreciate it if you would keep a look out for my suitcases. Two, both black. My name is Eleanor Pottinger. I'm from America, but I'm sure you already deduced that from my accent." The girl still seemed nervous. "What's your name?" Eleanor asked to put her at ease.
       "I be Twilla." The maid curtseyed, maintaining her role, but she had a confused expression. "Miss Eleanor from America. Two black cases arriving from the port." She repeated the information as if memorizing foreign language phrases. Suddenly her face lit with comprehension. "Aye, you must be the cousin they been expecting for over a fortnight."
       "Actually, I'm—"
       "I'll be right back with a pitcher of hot water."
       Now Eleanor was confused. But she had no time to question the maid before the girl scurried out. Eleanor looked around the bedside table for her watch. She got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed.
       "Miss?"
       Eleanor sat back in surprise. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was the maid, not the ghosts. Perhaps it really had been no more than a dream.
       "I forgot to ask if you want a breakfast tray. Cocoa? Toast?"
       "Coffee would be great." Eleanor stood and brushed off her hands, even though there was no dust on the floor she could have picked up. "Thank you."
       "If you was looking for the chamber pot, it's in the corner," Twilla said. "Behind the screen."
       Eleanor turned in the direction the maid indicated. She didn't remember seeing the three-panel Chinese screen before. A chamber pot! She was all for realism in attire for the conference, like not using zippers or polyester fabrics. It was fun to imitate the manners and activities of the Regency, but expecting the attendees to sacrifice use of a modern toilet was too much to expect. She turned to say something, but the girl was gone.
       The respite gave her time to realize the maid was not the appropriate person to speak to about sanitation arrangements. When Eleanor went downstairs, she planned to have a talk with the inn manager, Mrs. Ruth Simms. Until then, she would play along with the program.
       Twilla returned, a pitcher of steaming hot water in one hand and a bundle in the other. She deposited both behind the screen. An even younger girl followed her into the room carrying a tray with a silver coffee service, delicate china cup and saucer, plate of toast, and a large snowy napkin. The child set the tray on the table near the window and then curtseyed on the run as she scurried out.
       "I've brought everything I expect you'll need for your morning ablutions. Be there anything else, Miss?" Twilla asked. "Simply ring when you are ready, and I will return to help you dress." She indicated the bellpull that hung next to the painting over the fireplace.
       Eleanor hadn't had anyone help her dress since she'd learned to tie her own shoes. "Thank you. That won't be necessary."
       The maid quickly masked her surprise and nodded. "As you will, Miss. Nuncheon is served for the ladies at eleven o'clock. The dancing master is in attendance today."
       "Thank you."
       "Just ring when you are ready, and I will take you downstairs."
       Eleanor was sure she could find her way without a guide, but she nodded rather than argue. As soon as the maid left, Eleanor headed straight for the bathroom. The rosette latch on the armoire wouldn't budge. She tried every bit of decorative carving, in case she had remembered the location of the latch wrong. Nothing