She’d dealt with men intent on bedding her, but it had been easy to bat them away because she remained coolly uninvolved. Apart from Lord Redcliffe’s obvious good looks, what was it about him that made it so difficult to keep a cool head? The danger she sensed was not of violence but of promised pleasure and drew her like a moth to a candle flame. To dine and drink wine with him tempted her so much, she’d struggled to resist.
Chastising herself, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen to meet the cook, while Lady Lowry’s nasty words rang in her head like a bell.“If you think you can get your hooks into Lord Redcliffe, you’ll be disappointed. He holds no interest in a squire’s daughter, beyond his need of a housekeeper. As an earl he will seek a well-bred lady to be his wife, although he would be happy to bed you, should you offer yourself to him? And afterward, discard you without a second look.”
Although there was an element of truth in what her former employer said, for his lordship would certainly never marry her, it was pure spite designed to hurt her. Olivia would never contemplate such a scheme. But would Lady Lowry spread nasty gossip about her? The village would already be abuzz with conjecture. As long as she knew it to be lies, Olivia supposed she could endure.
But as Redcliffe Village had always been her home, and she intended to live there for the rest of her days, she must tread carefully. She would stay at the hall only long enough to find the answer she sought; the proof her father had not been paid the thousand pounds owed to him for the two horses he supplied the old earl. If proved she was the rightful recipient of that money, it would allow her to pay off Papa’s debts and clear his name. She could execute her plan to live comfortably without being obliged to marry.
Entering the kitchen, the cook stood at the stove, stirring a pan, the preparations for the meal covering the table. Pots piled up in the sink in the scullery. There seemed to be no kitchen maids to assist him. But the flavors scenting the air were mouthwatering.
“How do you do, sir? I am the new housekeeper, Miss Jenner.”
He turned to her. He wasn’t old by any means, but the heavy grooves beside his mouth and on his forehead looked to have been born of years of hardship and suffering. “Samuels, Miss Jenner.” He wiped his hands on the apron tied at his waist and took her proffered hand in a firm grip, while a cautious expression crept into his smoky gray eyes.
Samuels seemed an extraordinary choice for the earl’s chef. His massive hand and scarred fingers rasped against her skin, and he wore his over-long, fair hair braided and tied back in an old-fashioned queue with a black ribbon. He seemed more suited to life a century ago. A highwayman perhaps, she thought, carefully hiding her surprise.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious. It makes me hungry.”
His smile transformed his face, the deep lines softening. “I hope you will enjoy the meal.”
“I am sure to.” She gazed around. “You work under difficult conditions here.”
He shrugged. “I have had worse.”
A story she hoped he would someday tell her. “The new housemaid, Emily, can assist you. I’ll send her to you, and we expect more servants tomorrow.”
He nodded and turned to check on the roasting meat.
“We’ll inspect the pantry and discuss the menus tomorrow.” Olivia crossed to the door. “I’d best see what awaits me in the housekeeper’s room.”
“You’ve far worse to deal with than I,” Samuels said over his shoulder.
“I believe we are both up to the task, Mr. Samuels,” Olivia said with a firmer conviction than at this precise moment she felt.
He chuckled. “I admire your spirit. You may call me Sam if you wish.”
“Olivia, please, Sam.”
She smiled as she left the room. This was proving to be a most unusual position. Her smile soon fell away when she discovered the state of the butler’s pantry, which had been turned into a bedchamber with a mattress and bedding. In the housekeeper’s office, mouse droppings tracked across the floor. Everything appeared undisturbed for years rather than months. Tattered yellowed ledgers filled the drawers. She could write her name on the desk’s surface. Olivia sighed and mentally rolled up her sleeves.Tomorrow.
In her desk drawer, she found the housekeeper’s keys and went in search of the maids. Encountering Emily talking to Polly in the servants’ hall, she sent Emily to assist Samuels, then went upstairs with Polly to find the linen cupboard.
Olivia searched through the fine linen sheets monogrammed with the earl’s crest and plain linens folded on the shelves. No evidence of moths or mice could be found, but they smelled musty. She would have some laundered and others sprinkled with dried lavender. The plant grew in abundance in the garden. But for now, they would have to make do. She removed some sheets, pillowcases, and toweling to ready the bedchambers.
In his office, Mr. Williams rose to greet her as the workmen hurried away to reach home before nightfall.
“It is good to have you here, Miss Jenner.”
She immediately appreciated the man’s calm manner and kind hazel eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Williams. I see there’s a lot to do, and I’m eager to begin.”
“We have a laundry maid, a Mrs. Hobbs, who is a widow and hails from the village. You might know of her.”
“I don’t believe so. I’ll take the linens to her for laundering. Does his lordship have plans to entertain?” She might have asked Redcliffe, she thought darkly, if it had not been so…difficult. In fact, the less she saw of the earl, the easier it would be.
“His lordship mentioned a house party during the hunting season but nothing immediate.”
She nodded, relieved such a large undertaking wasn’t about to tax her limited resources. It gave them time to hire and train more staff. Over thirty servants worked for Lady Lowry, counting the gardeners and the stable staff, and the house was far smaller than Redcliffe Hall.
In search of her bedchamber, she left Williams and climbed the servants’ stairs, which needed to be swept. She finally found it, three floors up under the roof and in a poor state, like the rest of the house.
