And then his deep voice rumbled, cutting through the calm.
“With such a dire opinion of my household, madam, I can only wonder at your choice to festoon my drawing room with Christmas trees and gewgaws and holly branches instead of correcting any of the inadequacies you have so helpfully catalogued.”
“Her Grace professed her desire that Blackwell Abbey be decorated for the Christmas season,” she defended. “As Her Grace intends to be present for Yuletide, I was merely making an effort to do her bidding whilst attending to the rest.”
His eyes narrowed. “Present for Yuletide? I issued no such invitation to my mother.”
She forced a tight smile. “I am afraid that is an issue Your Grace will need to address with Her Grace.”
“I begin to think you are colluding with my mother, madam.”
Joceline narrowly avoided gritting her teeth—the man was infuriating. “I can assure you that I am not conspiring in any fashion. I am attempting to do the job I was hired for.”
“At my home.”
“At Your Grace’s home,” she agreed.
“By someone other than myself,” he continued with deceptive calm.
“By Her Grace.”
“Then you agree that you are trespassing.”
She gaped at him. “I agree to no such thing, Your Grace.”
“Whether you concur is immaterial. You cannot argue against plain fact, madam. You are here, in a place where you are not wanted, performing tasks I have not given you leave to perform, and at the behest of someone who is not the owner of this estate. You are, therefore, trespassing. I ought to send for the constable and have you thrown into jail for your temerity.”
The breath fled her lungs at his cool statement. But then she inhaled, telling herself he wasn’t serious about such a threat. That he couldn’t be. That she had done nothing wrong.
“If you truly think to have me arrested for the crime of decorating your drawing room with Christmas greenery, then I suppose you must,” she told him. “Otherwise, I do hope Your Grace will leave me to my work. There are a great deal more dishes to be inspected for damage and only so many hours in the day.”
She kept her tone as sweet as honey, maintaining her poise and calm through the sheer miracle of determination and necessity.
His jaw worked, and she couldn’t tell if he was holding back words or if he was grinding his molars. “I don’t want you here.”
Joceline continued to smile sunnily at him. “Do you like dust, mouse droppings, chipped plates, and a house in disrepair?”
“The fountain in the alcove behind the great hall,” he growled. “Was that you?”
Ah, he had noticed her little triumph. No doubt, it displeased him greatly, just as everything else she had done in her short tenure here.
“It was Joseph Poole, Your Grace. He is a new footman I have taken the liberty of hiring.”
“Footmen are not a part of the housekeeper’s domain.”
“I am aware. However, poor Mr. Dunreave is already burdened with far too many tasks, and since he was reluctant to hire new servants for fear of Your Grace’s displeasure, I took on the task myself.”
Fortunately, she had found the industrious Joseph Poole in the village, along with a handful of others who were willing to work at Blackwell Abbey. Joseph had quite handily repaired the broken fountain.
The duke’s lip curled. “Dunreave is a wise and loyal man.”
“Yes, Your Grace. On that, we are in complete accord.”
“I want you gone tomorrow. Leave on the first train that returns to London. If my mother wishes for you to be a housekeeper so badly, then you may be hers. Good day, Mrs. Yorke.”
Without waiting for her response, the Duke of Sedgewick spun on his heel and stalked from the room. She watched his tall, stately figure retreating, belatedly realizing he had finally called her by the correct name.
CHAPTER 3
