“Out of politeness, I imagine. Our conversation was, as he explained, brief.”
Lady Lowry’s spiteful gaze flicked over her. “About what?”
“The weather, which differs from London,” Olivia said, faintly astonished she could lie so convincingly. “The wheelwright was too busy to see me, and would deal with his lordship first, so I left.”
“Very well.” Lady Lowry waved an airy hand. “I suppose I shall have to take you at your word. But I must say I’m surprised his lordship remembered you.”
Olivia stood her ground, anger tightening her stomach. “The servants have worked hard this last week, Lady Lowry. As you would be hard-pressed to fault them, I know they would appreciate a word of praise, if you should consider it appropriate.” She didn’t expect a gratuity, and neither did they.
Her mistress nodded slowly. “Yes…that might be prudent,” she said after a moment. “Convey my thanks. I shall entertain more now the earl is here. A dinner party. I’ll give it some thought.” She put down her glass and idly picked up her fan, waving it before her face. “Redcliffe is a handsome fellow.”
“I suppose he is.”
She scoffed. “Of course he is. He stayed to talk to me overlong, I thought. I trust gossip doesn’t spread.” She laughed girlishly, then gestured with the fan. “You may go.”
Olivia returned to the servants’ hall, where the staff drank tea and ate the leftover cake and biscuits. Laughing, Vicky described how a lady had lost her pince-nez and it took her an age to find it in the grass.
Maisie giggled. “You looked ever so silly down on your knees.”
“And I’ll never remove these grass stains from me best gown,” Vicky said, head bowed over her skirt.
Olivia passed on Lady Lowry’s praise for their efforts and added hers. She left them and entered her office. How carefree they were, teasing each other. From her experience, money and status rarely improved a person’s character.
Of course, nothing was intimated by word or gesture, but she remained hopeful Lord Redcliffe would change his mind about hiring her. And if he did? She hadn’t missed how his gaze wandered over her at Redcliffe Hall. What was she to do if his interest in her wasn’t entirely honorable?
What she always did, she supposed, although deterring an earl would not be so easy. She owed nothing to the Redcliffes, but rather, they owed a good deal to her father. If he took her on as his housekeeper, she would find what she sought, then put in her notice. She’d leave as soon as he found a replacement. Then her long-held dreams would become a reality.
Chapter Four
Dominic sat inthe chilly breakfast room, on the north side of the house, where the sun never reached the windows. He stared into the steaming cup of coffee before taking a sip.
Yesterday, Williams returned from Gateshead with three servants in tow, but no housekeeper. Now settling in were Mr. Samuels, a cook with questionable references; a young housemaid, Polly, who had worked previously at an inn; a stableboy, Jim, too young to sprout a beard; as well as Jack, the cocky young footman Williams had promised.
A little rough around the edges, Samuels, with his sandy hair in a queue, would not be in great demand in London, but if the breakfast placed before Dominic was anything to go by, the new cook could produce good plain food and decent coffee.
Jack expressed pleasure his livery fitted but had little idea of what was required of him, while Polly, who at least made a bed competently, darted out of his sight whenever he came across her flicking her duster. According to Fellows, Jim, who expressed a love of horses, had become an asset in the stables.
Desperation finally forced Dominic to take Miss Jenner’s offer seriously. At her employer’s garden party, she looked demure in her gown but gazed at him as if she feared he would betray her. She obviously had a poor opinion of him.
Having heard of her father’s troubles, he had some understanding of her predicament. Had her father suffered at the hands of his uncle? She might be of that opinion, whether or not it was true. Was that her reason to want to come to Redcliffe Hall? Or because she was unhappy in her present employment? Miss Jenner came from a respectable home and had fallen on hard times. But would it be wise to employ her? His reason not to had not changed. The pull of attraction he’d felt on meeting her rang in his head like a warning bell. Bemused by where his thoughts took him, he refused a second cup of coffee from Jack, who hovered with the coffee pot, then tossed his napkin aside and rose.
He approved of the library and intended to spend a good deal of his time there. It was a comfortable room with a wide cedar desk. An impressive number of tomes on bookshelves covered three walls. Above the stone fireplace hung a painting of a young family member. Dominic had first thought it to be Alberic. But as the hair color was wrong, he decided it was his father as a lad. Considering the family rift, he found it odd. But he knew so little about Alberic. Had he been a keen reader? The well-thumbed pages of the books Dominic flicked through made him think so.
Dominic sharpened the tip of his quill, took a sheet of bond from the drawer, and dipped the nib in the inkwell, intent on answering his sister’s letter. He scratched out a greeting, then paused, gazing through the windows at the worrisome view where a wildly overgrown hedge bordered the front path. Alberic had let the gardeners go, too. Another matter to deal with. Even with the windows open, the room smelled deplorably stale, and the books were gray with dust.
He returned to his task, but the ability to write an entertaining missive to amuse Evelyn deserted him. How horrified she’d be to learn the state of things here. Might she be able to recommend a housekeeper? Thinking it over, he dismissed the idea. The miles lying between them made it impractical. Too much time wasted. And this house would not function without an experienced housekeeper to manage it.
Lady Lowry was a vain, silly woman. Working for her would be a trial. His understanding of Miss Jenner’s plight made him consider her more seriously. Obviously, she was efficient, or the harridan would have sent Miss Jenner packing. And he’d watched her moving among the guests and approved of her easy manner.
There remained the question of the villagers’ poor opinion of him. Some guests at Lady Lowry’s garden party revealed little warmth toward him beneath their social manners. In London, it hadn’t mattered a good deal. Here it did, and the unfairness of it rankled and made him feel lonelier than he’d been in the city after the scandal broke. But he reasoned he couldn’t fall much further in their estimation if he took an attractive, young woman as housekeeper. And after all, he didn’t intend to remain here long. He eased his tight shoulders. His uncle had certainly left behind a poor impression of the Redcliffes when he departed this world.
As his request for staff gave Miss Jenner a reason to visit him, which even her mistress could not object to, he expected her to call. Now he’d decided, he became impatient. Would she come? Or must he seek her out?
As the days passed, his wish to restore the mansion to something resembling its former glory strengthened. But he knew so little about running an estate of this size. In the steward’s room, he flicked through the account books. After an hour, he found little to enlighten him. Apparently, the estate brought in a modest amount. But little appeared in the bank statements. His solicitor had remarked on it. Perhaps his uncle didn’t trust banks.
Dominic found no mention of Jenner in the ledgers, which appeared to end with Pike’s departure. Perhaps the parish constable had been called to investigate the dispute. He might inquire, but it was too long ago and, with Jenner and his uncle dead, impossible to get to the truth. Dominic discovered a discouraging pile of bills gathering dust in a drawer. He sighed. He would settle those immediately. It might go some way in developing trust among the shopkeepers and tradesmen. Williams had told him most had voiced their eagerness to continue doing business with the estate. But the coal supplier had made the comment, lords never settled their debts. And, regrettably, that happened. Dominic thumped the desk with his fist, stirring the dust. He was not his uncle, and he refused to be tarred with the same brush.
He quitted the room, wiping his hands with his handkerchief. This time, Polly failed to escape him in the corridor. “Dust and polish the library within an inch of its life,” he ordered her. “And tell Jack I want him to take up the rugs.”
