Ellena’s expression was serious now, all trace of laughter gone from her voice. “Promise me you will not continue this habit in your new home. Lady Bradford will not have the same ease with her staff as we have with ours. You will lose their respect if you are too familiar with them. And once lost, it will be impossible to win back. Worse yet, they might feel inclined to report your conversations and actions to her ladyship. She might even make it worth their while, if you catch my meaning. By all means, be yourself in private. But do not consider a room containing a servant to be private at all.”
“Well, that’s put a damper on things.” Jillian pouted. But only for a moment. Then her eyes lit up and she cried, “Do youremember when I ran beside your carriage as you left Trenton Grange for the last time as an unmarried woman? Wouldn’t it be funny if you did the same for me—skirts hitched up, hair fighting their pins to stay put, Lord Howell hollering at us to behave in front of the staff… Oh, I wish you would say you were going to do it just to see him dothat thing… you know, when he wants to correct us but also wants to be kind about it. And his face does that sort of rippling as he struggles for the right expression that balances tact with order. He is such a darling. Oh, do say you’ll do it.”
“I most certainly will not! The poor dear already has his hands full with the two of us. And he has been respectfully silent on the whole topic of your betrothal, even though you know his concerns. We shan’t torment him.”
Jilly grew still. “You are right. That was thoughtless of me. I take it back at once. I appreciate that he has not made the same sort of fuss that the Bradfords have.”
Ellena looked at Jilly without mirth. “He does not have as much to lose,” she said softly.
“I still don’t understand why I should be such a threat to them.”
Ellena opened her mouth to explain, but Jilly spoke quickly. “No, no, don’t tell me. I’ve heard enough on that subject this morning. Now I want to talk about weddings. And wedding nights…” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I think we will need some tea to wash down such heated conversation,” said Ellena, rising to pull the bell ribbon.
“Oh, and a biscuit or two with which to fortify ourselves,” added Jilly.
“And we will have them sent to my room, where we may continue without the risk of an audience,” insisted Ellena.
“Race you up the stairs!” Jilly leaped from her chair toward the door.
“You’re cheating!” complained Ellena, giving the bellpull a hefty tug. “I still have to give the servants our instructions!”
“We can send for them upstairs. Come on!” And, for the last time, Jillian Kinsey allowed herself to race up the majestic staircase of Munro House, with the viscountess puffing with breathless laughter as she stumbled to keep up.
