Emma swiftly followed her cousin’s advice. “I take it you sneak down these stairs often?”

“I used to. It’s quite handy to know how to get around this place without anyone knowing what you’re up to. I just usually don’t go around dressed like my maid.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do to wear silks if we’re going to help Cook get all the food prepared for tonight.”

Belle looked dubious. “Frankly, I don’t think she’s going to appreciate our help. She’s quite traditional and doesn’t really think it’s proper for the family to be belowstairs.” With that, she flung open the door to the kitchen. “Hello, everyone. We’re here to help!”

Everyone looked absolutely horrified.

Emma quickly tried to remedy the situation. “You could use two extra pairs of hands, couldn’t you?” She turned to Cook and flashed her a wide smile.

Cook threw up her arms and shrieked, sending clouds of flour billowing through the air. “What in God’s name are you two doing down here?”

One of the kitchen maids stopped kneading dough for a moment and ventured a question. “Pardon me, miladies, but why are you dressed like that?”

“I don’t think the two of you ought to be in my kitchen,” Cook continued, placing her hands on her formidable hips. “You’ll get in the way.” When neither of the two young ladies showed any inclination of leaving, Cook clenched her teeth and started waving a wooden spoon at them. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we have a lot of extra work to do down here. Now off with you before I call the countess.”

Belle quaked at the mention of her mother. “Please let us stay, Cook.” She was fairly sure that Cook had a proper name, but everyone had called her that for so long that nobody actually remembered what it was. “We promise not to get in the way. We’ll be a great help to you, I’m sure. And we’ll be quiet, too.”

“It just isn’t right having you down here. Don’t you two have anything better to do than play at being kitchen maids?”

“Not really,” Belle answered truthfully.

Emma smiled to herself, silently agreeing with her cousin. She and Belle had gotten into nonstop mischief since they had arrived three weeks earlier. It wasn’t that she’d meant to get into trouble. It was just that there seemed so little to do in London. Back home she kept busy with her work for Dunster Shipping. But in London, bookkeeping was not deemed an appropriate pastime for women, and it seemed that proper young English ladies had no other duties besides getting fitted for gowns and learning how to dance.

Emma was bored beyond belief.

Not that she was unhappy. As much as she missed her father, she rather liked being a part of a larger family. It was just that she didn’t feel useful. She and Belle had started to go to great lengths to entertain themselves. Emma smiled guiltily at their exploits. It had certainly never occurred to them that the stray cat they’d taken in only two weeks earlier might be infested with fleas. There was really no way they could have guessed that the entire first floor of the Blydon mansion would have to be aired out. And Emma hadn’t really intended to give the entire household such a good look at her undergarments when she’d shimmied up a tree to save that same cat.

Her relatives really ought to have thanked her. During the week they were getting rid of the fleas, the entire family quit London and had a marvelous holiday in the country, riding, fishing, and staying up all night playing cards. Emma taught her relatives how to play poker, a game she had bribed her neighbor into teaching her back in Boston.

Caroline had shaken her head and sighed that Emma was a bad influence. Before Emma’s arrival Belle had only been a bluestocking. Now she was a bluestocking and a hoyden.

“Goodness,” Emma had replied. “That’s better than being just a hoyden, isn’t it?” But she knew she could tease Caroline. Her aunt’s love for her was apparent in both her endearments and her scoldings, and they usually acted much more like mother and daughter than aunt and niece. That was why Caroline was so excited about Emma’s debut into London society. Even though she knew that Emma ought to return to her father in Boston, she secretly hoped Emma would fall in love with an Englishman and settle down in London. Perhaps then Emma’s father, who had been raised in England and lived there until he married an American woman, might also return to London to be near his sister and daughter.

So Caroline had arranged a huge ball to introduce Emma to the ton. It was to be held that night, and Emma and Belle had fled belowstairs, not wanting to get trapped into taking care of all the last-minute arrangements for the party. Cook was having none of it, however, telling the young women over and over again that they would only get in her way.

“Please, can’t we assist you down here? It’s a ghastly scene upstairs,” Emma sighed. “Nobody speaks of anything besides this party tonight.”

“Well, you’ll find that’s all we’re talking of down here, little missy,” Cook replied, wagging her finger. “Your auntie is having four hundred guests tonight, and we’ve got to cook for the lot of them.”

“Which is exactly why you need our help. What would you like us to do first?”

“What I’d like for you to do is get out of my kitchen before your mama finds you down here!” Cook exclaimed. Those two had come down to the kitchen before, but this was the first time they’d been so audacious as to actually dress up in plain clothes and offer to help. “I can’t wait until the season gets started so you two scamps have something to do with yourselves.”