But when she arrived in the kitchen, she was met by chaos. Her mother was busily rummaging through cabinets and drawers while boiling water overflowed from the kettle. The flames beneath it hissed in response, puffing out steam that thickened the air.
Emily grabbed a dishtowel, then snatched the kettle from its spot above the fire. “Mama. What on earth is going on?”
Georgina spun toward her with an expression that bordered between concentration and panic. “I need tea. I’ve never started a day without it and have no intention of doing so now.” Straightening, she placed one hand on her hip and glanced at the hearth as if it were her worst enemy. “Since you weren’t anywhere to be found, I was forced to take matters into my own hands.”
“I can see that.” Emily placed the kettle on the counter and went to retrieve the tin in which tea was kept. She fetched the teapot next and proceeded to make the hot beverage her mother required. “Could Patsy not have helped you?”
“I sent her to post a letter to your father.”
“Before breakfast?”
“Of course not, dear. I’m not that awful. She found the eggs and toast and made a sandwich that she could eat on the way.”
“Hmm…”
“This is good,” Mrs. Howard murmured a few moments later after the tea had steeped and she was able to take her first sip from the cup that Emily had prepared. She took another and sighed, then set the cup aside and considered her daughter. “I’m sorry I made a mess.”
“It’s all right.” Emily closed the drawers and cabinets her mother had opened, arranged two plates with the eggs and toast she’d made earlier, and went to join her at the table.
Her mother stared at the plate before her while Emily made a cup of tea for herself. “Did you really cook this?”
Picking up her teacup, Emily cradled it between her hands while blowing softly to cool the drink before taking a sip. “I don’t have a cook hiding somewhere in a closet, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Her mother raised her gaze slowly and when her eyes met Emily’s there was something new there – something far more meaningful than surprise. “I must say that I’m rather impressed.”
Emily’s chest tightened. “Thank you,” she rasped, covering the emotion her voice betrayed with another quick sip of her tea. She set her cup aside and reached for the butter.
“Will Lord Griffin not be joining us?”
Emily paused. “I…um…I do not know.”
“I’m only thinking that it would be rude of us to start without him.”
“Right.” Emily retrieved her hand. She’d hoped to finish breakfast and remove herself from the kitchen before Lord Griffin arrived. Facing him now, after their most recent interaction, would only make her uncomfortable. And besides, if she wasn’t busy eating, she would have to face the silence now hanging between herself and her mother.
Too much resentment had built up between them over the years, crushing every chance they might have had of getting along. Emily leaned back in her seat with a sigh. When Langdon had broken things off, she’d known she’d lost her chance of marriage and children forever.
Of course, her mother had disagreed. She’d simply ordered up another bright gown – a lime green horror of a dress – and told Emily to keep on trying. Instead she’d shoved the dress into her dustbin and accepted Cassandra’s invitation to join her at Clearview.
The door opened and Lord Griffin stepped in, distracting Emily from her thoughts. His hair was damp and mussed in a way that made him look wonderfully attractive. But unlike earlier, he was now properly dressed. Even his neck was hidden beneath a perfectly knotted cravat.
“Good morning, ladies.” He closed the door behind him and approached the table. “I hope you can forgive my delay in joining you.”
“Of course,” Emily told him as she went to prepare his plate.
He waited for her to place it before him and to resume her seat before claiming his own, his knee brushing hers beneath the table in a manner that made her heart jolt. “Nevertheless, I would ask you not to wait for me in the future.” He watched while she poured him a cup of tea, her hand made a little unsteady by his perusal. Thanking her in a low, sensual murmur that caused her belly to shudder with pleasure, he turned his attention on Emily’s mother. “I hope you slept well last night.”
“Oh, indeed.” Georgina took a few bites of food. “The room I’ve been given is incredibly comfortable, and this breakfast is most delicious.” She stuck another piece of egg in her mouth and chewed before saying, “I was not aware that my daughter is so very capable.”
“Circumstance forced me to acquire some necessary skills,” Emily told her. Even though she’d meant for her words to be a statement of fact, she failed to stop them from sounding bitter.
Her mother pressed her lips together and nodded. “Of course.” She lowered her gaze and proceeded to cut her toast into tiny pieces. “I did not mean to sound condescending, Emily, but rather to compliment you on what you have accomplished.”
“It is no more than what most women manage to do every day when they can’t afford servants.”
A gust of uncomfortable silence swept through the kitchen, and Emily bowed her head, regretting the haste with which she’d just spoken. She wished she could simply accept her mother’s rare praise with gratitude, but the grievance she felt was too deeply ingrained and not easily overcome.
“True,” Lord Griffin said when Emily was sure she would have to endure the rest of the breakfast with no other sound but the scraping of silverware to keep her company, “but you were raised in an upper class household, Miss Howard. So as your mother correctly points out, you have proved you are able to adjust to new ways of life in a manner I’m sure most young ladies of similar backgrounds would balk at.”
