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Mad Dog relaxed and lowered his arms. “I ain’t going nowheres,” he growled.

Pembroke responded with a businesslike nod and glanced at the others’ astonished faces. “I’ll meet with each of you later to discuss duties and schedules. From now on, keep in mind that all of us, me included, will use the servants’ stairs and the lower entrance. Stay off the main stairs unless you’re cleaning them. Furthermore, if I hear shouting in the house, there had better be fire or blood involved.” His gaze went to the bundle in the housemaid’s hand, which Alan was jumping up to investigate. “Belinda, dispose of the rat and wash your hands afterward.”

“Can I give it to the dog to play with?” Belinda asked.

“After I tell you to do something,” Pembroke said, “the answer is either ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘At once, Mr. Pembroke.’ ”

Belinda heaved a sigh, grumbled something that sounded like “Yes, sir,” and headed toward the servants’ stairs.

Pembroke turned to Norman. “What task were you doing upstairs?”

“I was helping Enid clean the sitting-room grate, sir.”

“Is it done?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. The front steps need sweeping. After that, clean both sides of the door and polish the brass work. The front door is the first thing Miss Martin’s visitors see—we want to make a favorable impression.”

“At once, Mr. Pembroke.”

The butler’s gaze went to Mad Dog. “Where are you planning to wash the dog?”

“Carriage house.”

“After he’s dry, take him to a harness maker and order a collar and leash.”

“He don’t need no—” Mad Dog began, but broke off as Pembroke glanced at him with an arched brow. Seeming to realize the futility of arguing, Mad Dog picked up Alan with a grunt and headed to the servants’ stairs.

Reina watched in amazement as her servants vanished, and the house fell silent. She gave a nonplussed laugh at how quickly the butler had taken charge. “That was impressive, Pembroke.”

“Not at all, ma’am.”

“The house has been topsy-turvy for weeks. But now, only a few minutes after you’ve arrived, I feel much more hopeful.”

“If I may speak freely, Miss Martin . . . ?”

“Go right ahead.”

“You’re part of the problem,” he said gently. “The way you talk to them, as if asking for a favor, diminishes your authority. Friendship isn’t what they want from you. They need leadership and support.”

Perturbed, Reina protested, “But I care about them.”

“By all means, care about them. Just don’t try to win their liking. It makes them uneasy. Structure and order allow people to feel comfortable.” Pembroke paused before asking, “Does that make sense?”

“I think so.”

“One more point, ma’am,” he said. “This is your home, but it’s their place of business. The servants have their own areas of the house where they can relax after work is done. When you erase the boundary lines between your areas and theirs, it causes confusion. It makes their job more difficult, not less so.”

Reina frowned, realizing he was advising her to maintain at least a small distance between herself and her staff. “Bother.”

Pembroke gave her a questioning glance.

“I suppose I wanted everyone to feel as if we were all—” She broke off, realizing how foolish it would sound to say a family.

He seemed to understand what she’d left unspoken. “They’re not a group of waifs and strays you’ve taken in. Allow them the dignity of their jobs, aye?”

Reina nodded reluctantly. No doubt June, who complained often about the servants’ lack of direction, would agree with Pembroke’s opinion. It was time for someone to take control of the situation.