“I’ll not have no Duke’s heir do wrong by my wall, even if he’s t’ one as is payin’ for it.”
Wells’s scowl tipped into a grin. “Sir, ’tis why I hired you. Now put me to work, Adams.”
And with a smirk, the good man did.
Almsdale’s new cook arrived at noon by wagon, her belongings stacked high behind her. Charles watched Mrs.Jenkins approach—seated ramrod straight beside Cuthbert—then remembered to pull off her hastily made apron before she ran downstairs to greet her. As she hurried across the courtyard, patting her hair into place, she passed Mr. Adams at work on the south wall and waved up to him as he waved back. And then she nearly tripped her feet, for she could have sworn she’d stared straight at his lordship’s muscular back, lifting stone beside another man.
Adams climbed down from the scaffold. “Good day, Miss Merrinan.”
“Mr. Adams.” Charles nicked her head.
“That Mrs. Jenkins I spy, t’ be Lord Wellesley’s new cook?” He nodded towards the wagon.
“It is indeed, sir.” Charles suppressed a proud smile. “And his lordship’s not a clue how sporney he is.”
“Nor you, miss.” Adams’s eyes sparkled back, looking her over in approval. They both knew how fine a chef Jenkins was, just as Charles knew Adams’s roving eye meant no harm. The stonemason remained an incorrigible flirt, but the benign sort: married. “You’ll be eatin’ well now, miss. Cuthbert’ll be pleased too.”
“Aye.” She grinned. “’Tis a grand day for us all.” But her smile faded fast as she looked back at the Abbey’s wall. “Mr. Adams, I could have sworn I saw Lord Wellesley . . .” Charles worried her bottom lip. “Surely he is not laboring alongside your men, sir?”
Adams winked. “Surely is.” He lowered his voice. “Came out all in a fratch this mornin’ and said I were t’ put him t’ work. Said I could even order him about.” He looked near gleeful telling her this.
Charles’s jaw slacked.
“Couldn’t believe my ears, I know,” he told her. “But he’s no dosser, miss. He’s worked hard as any gadgie this day, and I’mgrateful t’ have him. We’ll make good progress if he keeps this up.”
She was still stunned Lord Wellesley would dirty his hands at stonework.
Adams met her eye. “So you make sure he gets a good rest after, miss. A hot bath I should think for sore muscles, and Mrs. Jenkins’s fine supper for his belly with a glass or two of his cellar’s best. I’d like Wells back at work t’morrow, if you catch my drift.”
In wonder, Charles watched his lordship continue to work. He was so focused on his task he was oblivious to her presence in the yard.
“Aye, Mr. Adams, I’ll turn down his bed with an extra pillow tonight. He’s sure to need it.” She was still staring, making Adams stare back at her.
“Well get on then, miss. Looks as if Jenkins is waitin’ for you t’ stop eyein’ his lordship and go greet her like t’ proper housekeeper you now is.”
Charles startled back into action, quickly striding over to welcome the new cook inside the Abbey in order to show the lady to her room—finished in the nick of time for her arrival.
True to form, Jenkins immediately began to order Cuthbert about, telling him where to put her things, and he did not look pleased. Charles had failed to mention that Mrs. Jenkins was not only a fine cook but a bossy cook, thinking it would do the Abbey’s ruffians good to have another woman here to keep them in line.
“Miss Merrinan, the room’s sommit lovely, right down to its rug. You’ve made me most welcome, dear,” the lady praised as she looked about.
“Ma’am, we are honored to have you cook for his lordship and welcome you to our staff.”
“Aye,” said Jenkins, “only where’s t’ rest of your staff, miss?” She frowned. “I’ll need a scullery at t’ least, not t’ mention a girl t’ help me chop.” Her face scrunched. “And just how many mouths am I t’ feed?”
It was Charles’s turn to frown. “Did you not discuss the particulars of your employment with Lord Wellesley, Mrs. Jenkins?”
“I did not.” The widow’s lips pursed. “I were told his housekeeper’d see t’ all my needs.”
Charles’s heart sank, thinking Wellesley had done this to her on purpose, the blackguard.
“Well,” she forced a smile, “I’m afraid his lordship failed to mention such detail tome, but I will discuss matters with him today in order to procure you more help, Mrs. Jenkins. There are nineteen of us currently at the Abbey, including yourself, and with the exception of we ladies and his lordship’s steward, Mr. Cuthbert, the only person you need truly cook for is Lord Wellesley. The rest can eat swill for all I care,” she added under her breath.
“Good t’ know, Miss Merrinan.” The widow grinned. “Looks like I’ll be cookin’ for four then, and merely feedin’ t’ other fifteen.”
Charles smiled. “I think we shall get on well together, ma’am.” She made for the door. “I’ll let you unpack before I show you the kitchen.”
“And your room, miss?” the widow called after her. “Should I need t’ find you?”
