Wasn't it?
"Your Grace?" The candidate,a housemaid whose name Gabriel had already forgotten, was looking at him expectantly.
"Yes. Fine. Whatever Miss Whitfield decides."
Clara shot him a look that suggested she knew exactly where his mind had been. "Perhaps His Grace has a question for you, Mary?"
"Can you work without uttering a word?” Gabriel asked.
"I... yes, Your Grace?"
“Splendid. Can you clean without humming, singing, whistling, or any other form of musical expression?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Can you pretend I don't exist?"
Mary looked desperately at Clara, who sighed. "His Grace values efficiency and discretion."
"I can be discreet, miss."
"Excellent," Clara said warmly. “We shall convey our decision to you by tomorrow.”
After Mary left, Clara turned to Gabriel. "You're being impossible."
"I'm being practical."
"You're being terrifying."
"Exactly. Terrified servants are quiet servants."
"That's horrible."
"That's experience."
Clara stood, pacing to the window, and Gabriel absolutely did not watch the way her hips moved under her gray dress. "We need these people, Gabriel."
"We don't need anyone."
"You need to appear functional."
She turned to face him, backlit by the afternoon sun, and Gabriel's mouth went dry. The light turned her hair to gold, outlining her figure in ways that gray wool shouldn't allow to do so.
"Next candidate," he said roughly.
The footman candidate was tall, young, and handsome in that bland way that made Gabriel instantly dislike him. Especially when he smiled at Clara.
"Thomas Winters, Your Grace, Miss Whitfield." He bowed perfectly, the wretch.
"Mr. Winters," Clara said, returning his smile. "Your references are impressive."
"Thank you, miss. I pride myself on excellence."
I'll pride myself on throwing you out a window if you keep looking at her in that manner…Gabriel thought viciously.
"Tell us about your previous position," Clara said, leaning forward with interest.
Thomas launched into a story about his time at some earl's estate, and Gabriel watched Clara listen with apparent fascination. She laughed at something Thomas said…laughed...and Gabriel's hands clenched on his chair arms.
