“Yes, take him. And don’t worry, I’ll show Frederick to his room,” Nate said.
“It’s been a pleasure, Miss De Lacey.” Frederick gave her a lingering look and then bowed.
Nate only scowled, making Bridget wonder what Lord Frederick had done to annoy him. She bid the men good day and took Bijou inside, almost colliding with Sarah and Abigail, two of the newest maidservants, who scurried out from behind the curtain, startling her like two mice underfoot. Bijou, who’d also been startled, broke out in a fresh symphony of yapping.
“What is going on?” Bridget demanded.
“It’s Lord Frederick, miss,” Sarah said. She was a local lass, who had a round face, springy light-brown curls, and droopy blue eyes. “He’s arrived.”
“I know that. I just came from outside. But what are you two doing here?”
“We thought to come and help with the guests, miss,” Abigail said.
“Is that why you were hiding behind the curtain, spying on the arriving guests from the window?”
Sarah bit her lip and Abigail hung her head in mock penance.
“We wanted to see what he looked like,” Sarah said. “To see if he were as handsome and charming as Mr. Squires.”
Bridget pursed her lips to stop her smile from spreading. They really should have done a better job of hiring maidservants, but with such short notice, they’d only been able to find a few inexperiencedyoung ladies from nearby towns, so they’d chosen the best they could. It would take some time to train them properly.
“Well, then, you are lucky Aunt Marianne wasn’t the one who caught you spying on the guests instead of tending to your work,” she said, not wanting to sound too harsh. “But I’ll forget all about it if you take good care of Bijou for me.” Bridget handed the terrier to Abigail. “Take him down to Cook and tell her to give him some scraps. That ought to keep him out of the way while the guests are arriving.”
“But”—Abigail started to say as she strained to look behind Bridget—“more guests have arrived. Won’t Mr. Squires require our help?”
“No, those are his friends, and he wants to tend to them himself. All you need to do is make sure Bijou gets what he needs downstairs.”
Both maidservants frowned, and Abigail opened her mouth as if to protest again.
“Now, please,” Bridget said.
The maidservants nodded in unison, looking slightly sulky.
Bridget sighed. It was clear that these young women still had a lot to learn. She could only hope they wouldn’t cause any trouble in the meantime.
*
Bridget made forthe stairs, intending to find her aunt, who had been gone longer than expected. But as she approached the staircase, she spotted Eliza motioning to her a few feet away. She turned and walked to her.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s Lord Frederick’s lady friend,” Eliza hissed. “She’s none too happy about bein’ placed in a room so far from the other guests. She wants to be closer to Lord Frederick, I expect.” Eliza’s eyes darkened a shade. “But your aunt is having none of it, an’ rightfully so.”
“Where did Aunt Marianne place her?”
“In one of the shuttered rooms toward the rear of the main floor, above the servant’s quarters. She’s asked me to fetch bedding to make up the old bed.”
“Heavens! That room is not fit for guests. It will be uncomfortable, not to mention out of the way.”
“But Mrs. Marianne is right to put her there. The woman’s a disgrace. She and Lord Frederick traveled together like man and wife when they are not wed. And Mrs. Marianne says she’s a—”
“Nonetheless, she’s still a guest here,” Bridget interjected, hastily cutting off Eliza’s words.
Eliza’s face hardened, indicating her deep disapproval.
This was the type of issue Bridget had not anticipated when proposing they turn Villa De Lacey into an inn. It wasn’t anything she had experienced before. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t encounter similar guests in the future. She needed to establish a decorum—now—for the servants, and her aunt, and herself, for the future. “Why don’t you go and watch the front door in case more guests arrive while I sort out Miss Bouffant?”
Eliza nodded stiffly and walked away without saying another word. Bridget sighed and hurried to the rear of the house, passing the steps that led to the kitchen and servant’s quarters. Then she turned and moved even farther to the left of the main floor. As expected, she heard a commotion coming from one of the nearby rooms. Bridget turned in the direction of the raised voices. Miss Bouffant stood in her appointed room with her hands on her hips, scowling at Aunt Marianne, who glared back at her with equal ferocity.
