Page 58
Another fortnight passed as Eden quickly learned her duties as Perygrim’s housekeeper. She’d expected resentment and resistance from the other staff but found them to be cooperative and helpful.
How much had Chester to do with that?
All the staff had been present when she’d been introduced, and he’d made it clear that anyone unwilling to be one hundred percent loyal to him would be dismissed.
He’d assured her acceptance despite his annoyance with her.
Reminding him of the heiress he was expected to wed as Briar Knolls’s walls crumbled had served its purpose. She’d been rewarded for her cleverness when his eyes flashed in exasperation, but he’d released her without another word. Or kiss.
And yet, she couldn’t get his softly murmured words out of her mind.
My greatest wish is that you have your greatest wish.
Neither could she ignore the flicker of delight recalling them caused.
The chatelaine clinking against her hip and the rustle of her prim dark blue gown were accompanied by the click-click of Mr. Wiggle’s paws as he followed her on her daily rounds. She wore one of five new garments that had arrived yesterday. They’d been accompanied by stockings, shoes, and undergarments.
How Chester had managed to have them made so swiftly, she didn’t inquire, but she had asked how he’d acquired her measurements.
He’d given her a sheepish grin and confessed to taking her ivory and jonquil frock to use as a pattern.
The gown might be a servant’s simple trappings, but the material and expert sewing spoke to its quality. Silly as it might be, the plain gown boosted her confidence a smidgeon. She’d not needed to fear the duke’s guests would find fault with her appearance.
The visitors would begin arriving the middle of next week, including Miss Bickford. Chester continued to vow he had no interest in wedding his father’s choice as the next duchess.
Perusing her to-do list, she risked a small frown.
His grace insisted the gathering was an intimate party—a mere forty of the most prominent members of the haut ton.
She’d commit some gaffe, she had no doubt.
She swept into the library, checklist in hand. A package had arrived yesterday, which included, amongst other things, the latest novels popular amongst the upper Ten Thousand. Lifting one volume, she chuckled and pulled a face.
“Frankenstein. I should think I’d have nightmares upon reading it.”
“You aren’t the only one.”
Chester—no, he’s Lord Sterling—lounged against the library entrance. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and giving her one of his rakish smiles, sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about her insides.
“I must say, you’re the most fetching housekeeper I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”
The largeness of his presence made the grand paneled room seem much smaller.
She arched a brow and firmly ignored the winged creatures cavorting in her middle.
Respectable housekeepers should not indulge in naughty fantasies about their employers.
“Did you need something, my lord?”
“Chester,” he whispered sotto voce with a naughty wink. He lifted a shoulder. “I needed to see you. You’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed your smiles.”
His hooded eyes suggested he’d missed more.
She had been dodging him. For both their sakes.
Any more of his devastating kisses, and she’d be undone for certain.
This morning, she’d ducked behind the draperies in the study.
