Chapter 16: Article One

At supper I asked him to amend Article 1.

I could not cut my own meat, so Ansel cut it, with great ceremony.

"Article 1 says separate bedrooms," I said.

"It does."

"There is no clause for a fire."

"There is no clause for anything," said Ansel. "I looked."

"Then I want to add one."

He put down the knife.

"A new article requires a witness," he said. "Bertram is in the cellar."

"Counting turnips?"

"Counting something. I did not ask."

"Then Greta will do."

I called for Greta, who came in with a roll in her hand and a face that said she had been listening at the door.

"Witness this," I said. "Amendment two. The Duchess invites the Duke to the blue room, on a date to be filled in."

"Tonight," said Greta, with her mouth full.

"On a date to be filled in," I said, "which is tonight."

She wrote it on the tablecloth with a burnt match, because I had no free hand.

Ansel read it twice.

"Is there a charge?" he said hoarsely.

"No. That would be a conflict of interest."

"Then I will sign it."

"I'll sign with my left," I said.

He got up so fast the chair went over.

By the time we reached the blue room he had not said a word, and I was shaking from nerves and the cold stairs.

He shut the door and leaned against it and looked at me.

I stood by the bed in the green dress I had worn at supper, with small pearl buttons down the back.

"I can't undo these," I said. "Greta did them up again after you did them this morning."

"I know every one of them."

"Of course you do. You write everything down."

He crossed the room.

His hands were rough at the knuckles and very careful.

The first button went, and the second, and the third.

"This is a private touch," I said. "So there's no rate."

"No."

"I'd like it on the record that I want it anyway."

"Say the rest."

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