She stood up from her chair, being sure to face them squarely. “What I find terrible is that the three of you can go to church every Sunday, recite words of charity and understanding, and then be so callous at home. Do you fear that we will die, Mr. Gaudreau, if we don’t consume your food every day? Do you think a few articles in the paper will destroy the dukedom, Mr. Chiverton? And Mrs. Pizzi, it wasn’t so long since your own family came to these shores. Indeed, I believe I had a few girls threaten to leave when you were hired. Shall I bow to their demands now?”
“My lady!”
“Such a thing to say!”
Housekeeper and cook stiffened at her harsh tone. They both exclaimed their outrage but didn’t say more because they waited for the ringleader—Mr. Chiverton—to express their opinions in a more formal way. He was Emmaline’s true adversary, and so he spoke with pompous righteousness.
“Articles in the paper—even a few—cause damage. It is our duty to bring these matters to your attention.”
“You are right, Chiverton,” she said. “Pulling journalists off the ivy is too much for a man of your years. I shall speak with Papa directly about lightening your duties.”
The gasp of shock was audible, not from Chiverton but the other two. Threatening a change in butler was akin to declaring war on the entire staff. A war, incidentally, that Emmaline could not win. Chiverton was only echoing her father’s position and in a battle between herself and her father—well, in this household, the women always lost.
“My lady,” Chiverton said coldly. “You are overwrought. Might I suggest a lie down? I shall have Mrs. Pizzi bring you some tea.”
She smiled. Time to show them her mettle. “An excellent idea. Mrs. Pizzi, I shall be residing in the yellow—er, green bedroom for now. The workmen are done. I understand that the maids are being silly about going in there, but I’m sure you aren’t made hysterical so easily. I expect that you—personally—can see the room prepared for me?”
That last question was more of a statement, one that implied obedience or immediate dismissal. And as an Italian foreigner, Mrs. Pizzi knew it would be impossible for her to get another position without a reference from Emmaline.
The lady’s eyes widened in shock, then she dipped her head. “Of course, my lady. Right away.” She turned to depart, but Emmaline didn’t miss the venomous look she shot Chiverton.
“It’s really cruel,” Emmaline said to the woman’s retreating back. “Men stir up trouble, but it’s always the women who pay.”
She saw the comment land on the housekeeper, causing her steps to pause and her shoulders to twitch. Given the woman’s earlier compassion for Yihui, Emmaline guessed that the butler and chef had stirred her to outrage. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be as quick to rebel in the future.
Which left Emmaline to confront the other two. Or rather one, since Mr. Gaudreau quickly bowed out.
“I shall finish the tarts, my lady. They are perfection and will be delicious with your tea.”
She barely acknowledged his departure because she was still eye to chin with the butler, a man who had once cleaned her scraped knees and retied her hair ribbons. Indeed, as a father figure, he had been warmer than her own. But now they stood as if a frozen ocean churned between them.
“Chiverton, this quarrel does neither of us any good—” she began. He didn’t let her finish.
“I do hope you choose a husband soon, my lady. You have as much responsibility as your brother to carry on the title and the longer you wait, the fewer children you’ll be able to bear. Indeed, that number may already be frighteningly small.”
Emmaline gasped, the barb finding its mark with a sharp pain. Chiverton knew how much she wanted children. And they both knew that the lack of heirs was a constant worry for her parents. To throw that in her face now was the kind of petty cruelty that was, well, it was just the kind of thing her father would do if she dared question his behavior. And because Chiverton had been cruel, she returned the statement in kind. It wasn’t a normal action on her part, but sometimes wounded souls lashed out.
“Be sure to air out the green bedroom. I shall be looking to you to see that the air is clear in there, the furniture dusted, and everything in its place. Assuming that’s not too hard for one of your advanced years.”
If he poked at her age, then she would return the favor. Of course, she immediately regretted it. When all was said and done, she was the mistress and he the servant. It was cruel of her to punch down at him, even as he arched a mocking brow at her and sketched a very shallow bow.
Stupid, stupid, stupid to fight with her own butler. Perhaps they were right. Yihui was upsetting her more than she thought. And now her pride had made it so that she’d have to sleep in that room. How was she going to close her eyes and not have nightmares?
Best do it now. She’d always been one to face her fears, so she squared her shoulders and purposefully left the parlor to head to the newly christened green room. And since there was a maid in the hallway, she couldn’t flinch from her task now.
The room was closed because neither Chiverton nor Mrs. Pizzi would open the room themselves. Or at least not alone. So it was left to her to twist the knob and push the door back. For the briefest of moments, she saw the soft green paper that she herself had selected. She noted the stripped bedframe without even a mattress and the equally bare floor.
And then the memories overcame her.
Chapter Nineteen
“Oh my God.What now?”
Max and Lord Benedict were walking toward the ducal residence when a long line of carriages passed them, all headed into Grosvenor Square. Beside him, Lord Benedict chuckled as they watched the entourage.
“I believe you’re about to receive a royal visit. Your father will kick himself for not being here to bend the regent’s ear, but I daresay your mother will appreciate not having contentious political discourse in her drawing room.”
Max sent him a reproachful glare. “Damn you for enjoying this. You and Chris are a pair.”
