Drake traded the pitchfork for a push broom and continued cleaning the stall. “I am doing my damnedest to take care of everyone, John. Truly I am.” Could he possibly sound more pathetic? Time to find his backbone again and stop complaining. “I found us a fine cook to hire once I marry.” His mouth started watering at the memory of the coddled eggs and soldiers. “And she is an absolute angel to look upon, too.”
“Is she now?” John chuckled. “Not one of those skinny maids, is she? I dinna trust a cook what looks as if she never eats.” He made the shape of a curvy woman in midair. “As me da always said, ‘Gi’ me a woman with enough soft plumpness about her to keep me warm on a cold winter’s night.’”
Drake grinned, remembering the lovely young miss with the ample figure. “Curves aplenty, John. Golden hair. Eyes the sparkling blue of a fine sapphire, and a fetching smile that draws you in and threatens to make you forget your manners.”
John shook his head as he led Dancer back into the freshly cleaned stall and gave him some feed. “Sounds to me as if ye got more in mind for her than the position of cook at Wakefield.”
Drake leaned against the broom’s handle and shook his head. “No.This angel is much too kind to sully in such a way. She deserves better.”
“Ye remind me of yer father when ye talk like that.” John shook a crooked finger. “Stay that way, aye? Dinna let that uncle of yers change ye.” When John had stayed on at Wakefield, he had made it clear that he only did it because of Drake’s father. The man made no bones about disliking the earl and not possessing an ounce of respect for him.
“Father’s voice is always in my head, John. But I have to protect Uncle George. You know Father would have done the same.”
“Aye. He would at that.” John went to the next stall over and started cleaning it. “We’ll be needing to let them out in the pasture more. Feed’s getting low, and so is the hay. In the old days, we wouldha had the grass from the cuttin’, but with no men in the fields, I reckon it’ll have to be bought as soon as ye can.”
Drake repressed a sigh. Yet another expense that had hit the wall on credit. “I am going into Binnocksbourne today. I shall see what I can accomplish.”
“If I had any blunt to spare, ye know I would help,” John said, his voice somber as he shoveled out the stall.
“I know, John, and I am grateful to you for staying on.”
The older man nodded, then set to work in silence. It took the two of them more than an hour to get the horses properly cared for and set to grazing in the grassy pasture behind the stable.
Drake dusted off his hands. “After a good wash and some tea, I shall head into the village.”
“Dancer canna be ridden just yet, ye ken? Could do permanent damage.”
“I know.” Drake kept his head held high. “It’s just a good stretch of the legs. I shall walk.” He turned to head back to the house.
“M’lord?”
Drake paused and looked back. “Yes?”
“God be with ye.”
“Thank you, John.” Drake knew the man meant so much more, and it made him even more determined to set things right for the Wakefield estate. Too many lives depended on his finding a wife with a fine, fat dowry for him to fail.
Chapter Three
Felicity eyed lastnight’s damaged gown draped over the chair. A vibrant shade of orchid, it had been one of her favorites until the bodice had become so snug. Daisy, her lady’s maid, had apologized profusely, fearing she had drawn the dress’s ribbons too tight or not pulled the laces tight enough on Felicity’s stays. Felicity knew better. Once again, she hadoutgrowna Madame Couire creation.
She turned back to her glum expression in the dressing table mirror, wincing as Daisy twisted her hair into a fashionable braid that encircled her head.
“Forgive me, my lady,” the maid said. “I didn’t mean to pull.”
“I know—I just need you to go slower. Getting dressed for the day is my only excuse for not already being down in the parlor as His Grace commanded.” Chance had done his usual—summoned a meeting of his sisters, affectionately and sometimes not so affectionately known asthe flock. And he had done so at an unholy hour of the morning. She hadn’t even enjoyed her first cup of chocolate. “I am in no mood for my brother today. Does Cook have any fresh eels? His Grace needs a bucketful of them in his bed. If not, I shall need to visit the pond.”
Daisy snorted, then hurried to cover her mouth. But nothing could hide the laughter in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, struggling to assume a serious air. “Now, now, my lady. You know His Grace only has your best interests in mind.”
“His Grace only has his monthly allowance in mind,” Felicity grumbled. She glanced at the bedroom door. “Have you seen Lady Merry this morning? Do you know whether she has gone down yet?” With four sisters married, the remaining three no longer shared rooms, leaving Felicity feeling disconnected. “I most certainly do not want to be the first in the parlor to face the interrogation.”
“I heard Jenny in the hallway. Surely, that must mean Lady Merry has already gone down before you.”
“I hope so. Out of the two of us, she forces His Grace to behave with a little bit of compassion and respect.” Felicity wiggled a brow. “I believe he is afraid of her.”
“All the maids believe you have the right of it there, Lady Felicity. We think he fears her almost as much as he fears Lady Grace and Lady Blessing.” Daisy stepped back and returned the brush and unused hairpins to the table. “I am afraid we are all finished here. I am sorry I completed it in such a timely manner.”
“Well, you made it last as long as you could, and for that, I am grateful.” Felicity rose from the cushioned stool and meandered over to the window before heading out the door. She was in no mood for Chance this morning. No mood at all.
