If only she’d seen the signs sooner. If only she’d convinced Abigail to leave Whitfield before it was too late. If only they had run off together.
Eliza curled onto her side, pulling the thin blanket up to her chin. Sleep was a long time coming.
“Up, girl. There’s work to be done,” Mrs. Dawson called out the next morning, waking her before dawn with a rap on the door. “Rise and shine,” she said drily as she opened the door a crack.
“Yes, Mrs. Dawson,” Eliza called out as she rose out of bed and gave a small smile. “I will be right there.”
“Good,” she replied, shutting the door.
She dressed quickly in the plain gray servant’s dress and apron she had been provided, pinned her hair into a tight bun, and hurried to work. The kitchen was already bustling. Cook was barking orders at two scullery maids, the footmen were carrying trays, and Mrs. Dawson was inspecting everything with the critical eye of a general surveying her troops.
“Miss Graham,” Mrs. Dawson said, meeting her gaze. “You’ll help Mary here with the breakfast trays this morning. His Grace takes his breakfast in his study. The boys take theirs in the nursery with Miss Winslow.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dawson,” she said with a nod to Mary.
Mary was a cheerful girl about Eliza’s age and grinned back at her. “Come on, then. I’ll show you how His Grace likes things.”
They worked quickly, assembling the trays with tea, toast, eggs, and stone fruit. Mary chattered as they worked, filling Eliza in on the household gossip.
“His Grace is particular about his tea,” Mary said. “No sugar, just a bit of milk. And don’t knock when you bring it in! Just leave it on the table outside his study door. He doesn’t like to be disturbed in the mornings.”
“Noted,” Eliza said, carefully balancing the tray.
“And whatever you do, don’t ever, ever go into his bedroom. Mrs. Dawson will have your head if you do!”
“She’s already told me, and His Grace.”
“Good. Some of the girls used to try, you know. Curious about what’s in there, poking their heads where they don’t belong. But His Grace doesn’t stand for it.”
Eliza frowned. “What do you mean,used to try?”
Mary leaned in conspiratorially. “He dismissed three maids last year for going where they shouldn’t.”
“Oh dear…”
“Don’t mistake my words! He’s generous and fair, but he won’t tolerate people poking about his private affairs, Ellie.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They delivered the trays, Eliza to the study, Mary to the nursery. Eliza set the tray down on the small table outside the study door, as instructed, and turned to leave.
The door suddenly opened. Eliza froze. His Grace stood in the doorway, already dressed for the day, his cravat perfectly tied, his face radiant after a full night’s sleep and eyes glowing green.
“Miss Graham,” he said, and looked surprised to see her.
“Your Grace,” Eliza replied and curtsied quickly. “I apologize. I was just leaving this for you as instructed. I did not mean to disturb?—”
“No need to apologize. You’re only doing as told.” His gaze flicked to the tray, then back to her. “How are you settling in on your second day?”
“Very well, Your Grace. Mrs. Dawson has been… thorough in her instruction.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m sure she has. Mrs. Dawson takes her duties very seriously.”
“She’s an excellent teacher, Your Grace.”
“Good…” He paused. “Well, carry on, Miss Graham.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
