Evil's Niece by Melissa Macneal Page A

compared to these girls’ stories. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Chloe. I’m sure your training with Miss Delacroix will make your future a great deal brighter than your past. We all have our misfortunes to rise above, don’t we? And you, Miss —’
    ‘Oh, I just can’t tell you how pleased I am to — why, everyone knows how splendidly successful Chapin Proffit has been —’
    Three taps of Monique’s cane didn’t deter this lithe, expressive blonde as she clasped her hands rapturously before her.
    ‘— following in his illustrious daddy’s footsteps! I just can’t believe my good fortune —’
    Three louder taps, and my maid stepped forward. ‘A simple introduction! We have work to do, oui ?’
    The poor thing paled, then stared at her feet. Then she stepped towards me and kneeled, as though I were her queen. ‘Begging your pardon, Miss Eve, for my tendency to run at the mouth. My name’s Sylvia, and my chatter was so bothersome, even to my own family, that they cast me —’
    This time Monique rapped the cane sharply, right beside Sylvia’s shiny black shoe. ‘Miss Delacroix, she warned me of your chit-chit-chit ,’ she said, quickly pinching her fingertips against her thumb to mock the girl’s mouth. ‘You’ll work twice as hard as the other two, to control this bothersome habit, oui ?’
    ‘I’ll strive like no maid has striven before, yes, mistress.’
    ‘Yes, who ?’ Monique crossed her arms beneath her breasts, letting the cane swing from her fist.
    Sylvia quivered like a trapped rabbit. ‘Yes, Miss Eve,’ she said with a bow to me, ‘and yes, Mistress Monique. I’m duty-bound, and my welfare’s in your hands.’
    ‘Come along — all of you!’ Monique said, briskly clapping her hands. ‘We’ll begin in Miss Eve’s suite, and we’ll show her how quick and efficient we are, oui ?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress Monique,’ they chanted. Their voices differed in pitch, but their expressions looked the same: awed, and fearful.
    As she waved them towards the stairway, I was struck by hunches I couldn’t put into words, mostly involving this trio’s response to Monique. As though some sort of ritual were being carried out between a trainer and her…slaves.
    I couldn’t argue with my maid’s technique, however, for in mere hours she’d accomplished a miracle: she’d procured help from the city’s most talked-about domestic service — without paying Miss Delacroix’s fee, I suspected — and she was already putting them to work. And Chapin wouldn’t even be in St. Louis yet! By the time he returned, his house would be in order. I’d have another chance to prove myself worthy of his name; an opportunity to win back his favour, and transform our marriage from a relationship arranged around finances to one that revolved around…fucking.
    That naughty word made me grin. Why shouldn’t I put a secretive smile on Chapin’s face as he campaigned? Think of the citizens who’d benefit from having a gratified, satisfied mayor at their helm. Monique’s lilting Cajun dialect was more demure now as she instructed the three new maids in my room. Almost as though she were sweet-talking them into cleaning, purring as only my ‘niece’ knew how.
    My thoughts wandered to those moments in Madame LaRue’s dressing room, when Monique’s pink, pointed tongue found my nub…perhaps the black lace we brought home might provide a few moments of private pleasure. I could slip into my bathroom, near enough to keep track of what the three new girls were doing, while I investigated Monique’s ideas for costumes.
    Once behind the closed door, surrounded by shiny white walls, I opened the box from the dressmaker’s. The folds of black lace rustled seductively as they fell open, revealing the delicate web of roses and ivy intertwined…looking downright decadent draped across my leg. Filled with an illicit thrill, I let my skirt and shoes and stockings fall haphazardly to the floor, and my blouse and corset