The way that the staff reacted whenever Odette was mentioned, Penelope had to wonder what sort of a menace she was around the house.
No wonder Alexander needed a wife so badly.
“As I said before,” the butler cleared his throat. “Lady Odette prefers to do things in her own way. Any interactions with her are mostly on her own terms.”
“And how old is she?” Penelope knitted her brows together.
“Fourteen,” the butler answered eagerly.
“Oh,” Penelope said, surprised. Looking back now, she should have known that she was older, given how tall she already was. But fourteen was only a few years away from debut. “I am not surprised now at how His Grace seemed to be in a hurry.”
“I am not sure if I understand what you mean, Your Grace,” the butler replied.
“Nothing,” Penelope diverted the subject. But she had a feeling that she was going to have her hands full while living here.
That evening, Penelope kept asking the staff for any signs of Odette. First, she was in her lessons and Penelope was warned against disturbing her.
Then, she was in the baths, where again, Penelope was not to disturb her.
It seemed that Penelope’s attempts at engaging with the young lady were… futile, at best. A few more days passed, and every day was the same story.
Each time she knocked on the girl’s bedroom door, there was no answer. Sometimes, the room was empty. Other times, she was certain someone was inside, simply choosing not to respond.
“I have had enough,” she told herself one morning. Nancy, who was standing by the corner of the room, looked up expectantly.
“Something wrong, Your Grace?” she asked.
“Well, if I have to be completely earnest, then I must bring to your attention that it has now been five days since my arrival at the estate, and I have not once sat down to have dinner as a complete family.”
Nancy cleared her throat. Clearly, she did not wish to say anything that could land her in trouble, but she nodded.
“Indeed.”
“No, it is really quite unusual,” Penelope stressed. “But no worries, I plan on changing that today.”
Yes, Penelope was determined to do something useful. After breakfast, which had once again been a lonesome affair, she found Mrs. Abott in the hallway.
“Mrs. Abott,” Penelope greeted the older woman brightly. “Good morning.”
“Your Grace,” the older woman fell into a curtsy immediately. “How may I be of help?”
“I was wondering if I could…” Penelope thought over the right words for a moment, “well, shadow you for the day. If that is all right with you.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” H er eyes widened. “But I am only engaged in household work.”
“Yes, yes,” Penelope rubbed her hands together. Mrs. Abbott was the head housekeeper, and Penelope had something to learn from her. “That is precisely what I wish to see. You have been in this estate for many years, and therefore moving between its halls comes like second nature to you, almost. I could learn that from you, if I am being honest.”
“Your Grace, Monteclare Estate is your home,” the housekeeper stressed. “Why must you say that? If anything, I have to learn from you.”
Penelope raised her hand to stop her.
“You do not need to flatter me excessively, Mrs. Abbott,” Penelope clarified. “I am not that sort of duchess. If anything, I would much rather you teach me what you know, which will be many times more useful to me.”
Mrs. Abbott looked taken aback for a moment. She had not expected the Duchess to be so forthcoming.
“Well, then,” Mrs. Abbott pursed her lips, “If that is what you wish for, then please, follow me, Your Grace. I shall show you everything that I know about the estate.”
Penelope clapped her hands together, delighted. Finally, something for her to do.
