A middle-aged maid I recognized from my youth backed into the room with a tray of tea things—not the good china, I noted. She wore a housekeeper’s cap so she must have received a promotion since my last visit.
“My lord,” she said with a curtsy and a pinched expression. It certainly wasn’t a warm welcome from the staff.
“Thank you, Mrs…”
“Reed.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reed.”
“Indeed. We’re seeing to the earl’s chambers, my lord. Is there anything else?”
“Any chambers will do, one for each of us. And would it be too much trouble for another two rooms? We have companions who are just seeing to the horses.”
Shehumphedambiguously, not even raising a brow at the direction for the extra set of rooms. “They’ll be wanting supper, too, I expect?”
“Five of us, for supper, if you don’t mind. We borrowed my brother-in-law’s wagon and his hand needs to return.”
She offered nothing more than a noncommittal hum before sweeping out of the room.
“Well, that was odd,” Davina muttered.
“What was?”
“Thatwas not the appropriate greeting for a lord returning to his estate after an extended absence. Let alone greeting him for the first time after the title.” She reached forward to the tea tray and poured two cups.
“Well, they were not expecting us.”
“Of course. You couldn’t expect a receiving line. But you should expect something more than blatant hostility.” She added a splash of milk to one cup and to the other, she dropped in three spoons of sugar. Without so much as a comment, she passed me the second.
“How do you know how I take my tea?”
“You’ve the sweetest sweet tooth I’ve ever seen. I’m sure you’d prefer more, just as you’d prefer coffee. But you would see any more than three spoons as excessive.”
“Can you do this with everyone? Guess their tea preferences?”
“Oh yes. It’s something they teach all accomplished ladies.”
“Really?” I sipped with interest. The sugar was perfect. The tea itself, however, was bitter and astringent underneath the saccharine top note.
“No,” she replied, absolutely stone-faced. After a delicate sip, she set her cup back on the table, with a nose crinkle. Mrs. Reed had provided no accompaniment to the over-steeped brew, which was a disappointment. I could’ve used a biscuit. “This tea is a personal insult, Kit.”
“It just sat a bit too long is all.”
“Something is amiss.”
“They’re probably just busy readying the rooms. We were unexpected,” I repeated.
“The earl’s rooms should always be ready, Kit. Always. And another two guest rooms? That is nothing.”
“But…”
“Kit, please. Believe me in this?” Her doe eyes pricked at my heart.
“I believe you,” I assured her. “I just cannot countenance it.”
Without warning, she rose and held her hand out for me to take. “Come, we’re exploring.”
“What? But we need to wait for…”
