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Brilliant streams of sunshine cascaded into the chamber, casting a myriad of rainbows throughout the room. A tall, marble-topped table stood between a pair of worn saffron brocade-covered settees, and a variety of threadbare oriental rugs covered the scratched parquet floor here and there.
Tucked beneath a window on the west end of the room sat a small writing desk where the mistress of the manor might enjoy the garden view while attending to her correspondence. An elaborate Taj Mahal-shaped birdcage graced another wall. Two silent canaries watched her from within.
Vangie perched on the edge of one of settees, twisting her hands. She scrutinized the room once more. Though the furnishings were of the highest quality, they were generations old and well-worn. Not that she minded. It gave the room a homey, comfortable ambiance.
Jasper arrived with the tea service, followed by a stern-faced woman in a crisp black dress. A jangle of keys was secured on a chatelaine at her waist.
A trilling whistle rent the air.
“Ah, Leopold is attempting to woo Lily again.” Jasper jutted his chin toward the birds.
Vangie turned to peer at the pair. The male, a gorgeous cinnamon canary, puffed his chest out. He dipped and twisted in a courtship dance for the timid lemon-colored female sitting in their food dish.
She smiled at his antics, glad for the momentary distraction from her dour thoughts. She directed her attention to the tea tray and poured a steaming cup. Adding a bit of milk, she murmured, “Thank you, Jasper. You’re most kind.”
His, “Not at all, Lady Warrick,” was interrupted by Leopold chirping excitedly. The bird halted instantly when Jasper ordered, “Cease your infernal chittering, you lovesick fowl.”
Vangie curled her lips in amusement, though she hid the smile by taking a sip of tea. It wouldn’t do to have him think she laughed at him. She needed an ally here.
A harrumph startled her. Oh, dear. She’d almost forgotten about the dour housekeeper. The woman had been silent up to this point.
“So, it’s true then? Master Ian has taken you to wife?”
“Yes.” Vangie sent a hesitant glance to Jasper.
“My lady, Mrs. Tanssen is Somersfield’s most cordial housekeeper.” A hint of sarcasm shaded Jasper’s words. He duly ignored the glower the intimidating woman sent him.
Her lips pursed, Mrs. Tanssen considered her new mistress. “Well, what to do? One cannot evict her ladyship without notice from the room she’s occupied for over twenty years, though you certainly have the right to claim the chamber.”
“His lordship wants her moved to the dower house tomorrow,” Jasper offered helpfully.
“Yes, but there’s tonight to consider.” The housekeeper tapped her chin with her forefinger.
Vangie ventured a hesitant response, “Mrs. Tanssen, is it?”
Piercing hazel-green eyes met hers, accompanied by a curt nod.
She nearly danced a jig. She’d recalled a name correctly the first time. “I’m content to leave the arrangements as they are. Please, use your discretion, and place me in whatever chamber you deem most appropriate. Lord Warrick already suggested a temporary chamber for me, and he may have other preferences he’s yet to make known.”
A flicker of approval entered the housekeeper’s eyes. She angled her head, though Vangie wasn’t certain if the movement indicated her concurrence or irritation that she’d voiced an opinion. “I’ll prepare a chamber for you at once, my lady.” With that, the formidable woman departed the room, hauling the reluctant butler with her. She claimed she required his assistance in directing the footman.
Vangie sincerely doubted the capable Mrs. Tanssen needed anyone’s assistance with anything—ever.
