Her hand touched the curls springing out of her scarf. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Yes. Well.” He straightened and tugged at the tight collar of his uniform. “See that you keep those things in mind, please.”
“Yes, Lord Montagne Verdi.” Her voice was so quiet and stiff that it didn’t even sound like her. Her gaze was averted, and he knew that if he made eye contact with her, she’d probably be teary-eyed.
And that made him feel . . . shitty.
He stalked away, furious with her . . . and himself.
Damn it, what was he supposed to do? Just ignore his employee stomping all over decorum simply because she was American? He didn’t see Luke Houston going around and adjusting people’s ties or calling people by the wrong title.
Then again . . . Alexandra had probably coached Luke for hours on how to act in front of her family. And Luke was an actor, so he was used to handling situations with other famous people.
Maylee was simply out of her league.
Which made him feel guilty again. He stopped just as he re-entered the portrait gallery. He should go apologize to her and explain that how they acted in private wasn’t the same as how she should act in public or in front of the queen.
“Darling, is everything all right?”
His mother. Griffin turned to the Princess Sybilla-Louise. “It’s fine, Mother. I was just educating my assistant on proper manners. The scene we had with the portrait won’t happen again.”
She looked down her long nose at him. “Does she truly call you Mr. Griffin? That’s so improper.”
“I am told it’s a form of respect in Southern states, but yes, it’s a bad habit of hers. One I intend she correct.” He offered his mother his arm and led her back toward the others. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You know, darling, you’ve let your staff become far too familiar.”
“It’s fine, Mother.”
“I have my equerry spend a few days with all of my new staff so he can educate them. It’s clear that you need to do so with yours. It might do her good. Oh, but then you only keep the bare bones of staff, correct?” She sniffed. “That must explain that poor girl’s manners. No one to show her how to be a proper servant. You should really hire someone to take her in hand.”
“It’s handled, Mother.” He was barely paying attention. He kept thinking of Maylee’s flinch as he’d laid into her. He hadn’t been wrong . . . exactly. But he could have gone about it in a much kinder fashion.
She’d been so excited to be at the palace, and here he’d yelled at her more or less in front of everyone. She had to be humiliated.
Griffin decided he would apologize later. In private.
***
When he finally emerged from the portrait session, Maylee was nowhere to be found. The photographer hadn’t seen her since Griffin had forcefully corrected her, and no one in his family would remember her, since employees—even bad ones—tended to blend into the wallpaper as far as they were concerned.
Except, perhaps, when it came to George, the womanizer. And he didn’t want George to remember her.
Just when he was ready to give up on finding his assistant, he spotted a familiar blonde wealth of curls out by the sedan. Maylee’s back was to him, and the chauffeur, whose name he didn’t remember, was patting her on the back, comforting her.
Griffin stalked toward them, just in time to hear a bit of their conversation.
“—They’re not like regular people, much as we like to think so. It’s just something we have to remind ourselves of. If we don’t, they slap us back down.” The man ran a hand over Maylee’s shoulder. “Don’t let it bother you too much, love.”
Love? A furious retort lodged in Griffin’s throat, then died as the two of them turned around and faced him. Maylee’s eyes were red, and she’d clearly been weeping. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, her scarf tying it into a semblance of neatness.
But she gave him a game, polite smile, clearly pretending all was well. “Ready to leave, Lord Montagne Verdi?”
He nodded, noting the flat delivery of his formal title. The chauffeur leapt into action and opened the back door of the sedan. Griffin gestured that Maylee should get in.
She shook her head. “I’ll ride up front with Robbie. It’s only proper.”
And when she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he didn’t argue the point.
When they got back to the hotel, he offered to check her room for her.
She declined.
Nor did she come knock on his door later. He even left the adjoining door unlocked, just in case she got scared and needed to come sleep next to him.