“I’ll get it.”
Kitty almost protested, but Henry was the servant here. “It’s odd being in a bachelor household, isn’t it?” she said.
“It is, dear. There’s a house, I understand.”
Kitty heard the hint. “So there is, and left empty for quite some time. I should at least inspect it. And if we’re to stay in London for any length of time, it could be opened. But would Dauntry want to leave here?”
“That’s something you’ll have to discuss with him, milady. But marriage brings changes.”
Secure in robe and cap, Henry left. Kitty considered getting back in the warm bed, but instead she put on her fur mantle over her dressing gown and went to the window.
She drew back the curtains a little and saw that it was raining. It was only a soft, almost misty rain, but servants were hurrying about their duties with their hoods up, and a gentleman strode along beneath an umbrella. The fashionable world still slept.
The street wasn’t much wider than Moor Street, where she’d lived, but it was grander. She’d been too weary to follow their direction yesterday, but she suspected they were in the heart of Mayfair. All the houses were in fine condition, and each had a railed entry at the front with steps down to the basement area. The front of her house had met the pavement, the house had only had two stories, and there’d always been wear and tear. Of course, this building was not a terrace but a solid block. Were there servants’ quarters in the basement, or did each set of rooms have its own servants’ quarters?
A coal cart clattered by, and here came a cow and goat, each with a bell around its neck, led along to provide milk. A maid hurried out of a house with a jug tobe filled. Seeing the milk drawn from the animal was proof against adulteration, but it would be thinner stuff than Kitty had enjoyed recently. Animals needed good pasture to provide rich milk. Some London cows were kept in sheds.
Henry returned with hot water, and she was accompanied by the footman in shirtsleeves and apron with a bucket of coal. He soon had a fire burning in the small gate.
Carefully looking at the wall he asked, “May I know what you’d like for your breakfast, milady?”
Kitty was tempted to ask for the Turkish coffee, but that felt presumptuous. “Chocolate, bread, and butter, please. Henry?”
“Tea and bread and butter. Thank you, Edward.”
There wasn’t anywhere to eat in the bedroom, so Kitty added, “We’ll eat in the dining room, Edward. And my dog will need water and meat.”
As if summoned, Sillikin bustled in, ready for the next adventure.
Kitty realized only when the footman had left that she’d implied she’d be eating with her maid. So be it. She enjoyed Henry’s company and her advice.
Kitty went behind the screen to wash. Once she was in her shift, she came out to be corseted. She had to help Henry with her corset and gown, and then Henry helped her into the brown.
Henry said, “While we’re in London, you could order some new gowns.” Another hint, and one Kitty was happy to take. Her seamstress here was a friend and it would be an excuse to visit Moor Street and meet many friends and acquaintances there.
They went to the dining room. Their breakfast came promptly, beautifully served, with jewel-like jams as well as rich butter that must have come up from the country. On the floor, Sillikin had a china bowl of water and a dishof what looked like chopped steak. Her stubby tail was vigorously approving.
“Still-warm bread,” Henry said, cutting open a roll. “An excellent kitchen.”
“It will be from a local bakery,” Kitty said. “I’m surprised Dauntry keeps a cook here. It can’t be only for his coffee.” Then she had to explain about the coffee.
“I don’t like coffee in any form,” Henry said, “so I’ll decline that treat. But I think you’ll find he enjoys a range of foods not readily available from the local chophouse or tavern.” Henry could be a deep well of information about Braydon, but the door was open, so Kitty wouldn’t indulge in curiosity yet.
She was enjoying her second cup of chocolate when Braydon entered the room, already perfectly shaved and in faultless Town elegance similar to his clothing for their wedding. If he’d come home late and slept little, it didn’t show.
“Good morning,” he said to Kitty as he sat. “I hope you’ve found everything to your satisfaction.”
Henry rose, curtsied, and left. Kitty almost protested, for Henry felt like a friend, but she did want to speak privately with Braydon.
Edward brought an ordinary coffeepot, bread, and cold meats.
“Close the door as you leave, Edward.” Once they were alone, Braydon said, “I’m sure you have questions.”
He was perfectly polite, but that was the problem. They’d come to do better than this in Gloucestershire. Was he cool because she’d insisted on coming here with him?
“Not if you don’t want to provide answers,” Kitty said, in as no-nonsense a way as she could. “I understand that matters might be confidential.”
He took his first sip of coffee. “Thank you.” He buttered some bread, put ham between two slices, and took a bite. He saw her watching him. “You disapprove?”
