Page 1 of A Lady's Curves
Chapter One
Ann
The front parlor of Everton House is quiet as I pull my embroidery needle through the cloth held in a wooden frame. The bluebirds will look lovely on a pillow and will make a nice gift for Lady Chervil. Admitting to boredom is not in my nature, so I stifle a sigh.
The parlor door opens and Lady Jane stands in the threshold. She is tall and her brown hair has begun to show a few strands of gray on the sides. “Miss Wittman, do you have a moment? There’s a client in my office, whom I’d like for you to meet.”
A short silent word of prayer for being saved from the doldrums, and I stand, leaving my needlework on the settee. “Of course, my lady. Do I need to change?” I look down at my dull blue day dress and brush out the skirt.
Jane smiles warmly. “You look very nice. No need to change.”
Joining her in the doorway, I ask, “Who is the client?”
“The Earl of Kendall. He requires someone to replace his steward temporarily.”
It’s a short walk across the foyer to the office, so there’s no time for more questions.
When the footman opens the office door, the man sitting on the sofa stands. He’s very tall and broad. If not for the expensive clothes, he looks more like a blacksmith than an earl. His expression is sour, but his eyes are kind.
Jane says, “This is Miss Ann Wittman. Ann, may I introduce Oscar Stafford, the Earl of Kendall?”
He bows and I make a deep curtsy. “My lord, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Miss Wittman.” He clears his throat and stares over my shoulder. “Perhaps this was a bad idea. I can’t see how a woman will be able to accomplish what I require.”
Tempted to check and see if someone is standing behind me, I chalk his lack of direct gaze up to arrogance, something I’ve dealt with all my life. The earl is no exception. “I’m certain that whatever you need will not exceed my abilities. Lady Everton briefly told me that you require a steward. May I ask what happened to the last person who held the position?” Sitting across from him on an overstuffed chair, I feel uncertain and keep myself at the edge of the seat, should escape be necessary. It’s silly really. Lady Jane is here and the footman is right outside the door. Yet, old habits are difficult to change.
Oscar sits with an audible sigh. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Miss Wittman. I’m sure you are quite capable. The issue is that the position of the steward is a traditionally male role and I find myself at the Everton Domestic Society because all other options are not…” he pauses, his lips pulled in a straight line, “desirous at this time. My steward, who I hired a year ago after the previous one retired, left suddenly to marry one of the maids. I’m told they have taken up residence with her family in Surrey. I have a house in London, a hunting lodge in Scotland, and a large estate in Devonshire. It is a big job to keep the accounts of all three properties.” His gaze shifts uncomfortably.
It’s strange for an employee to run off on short notice and the earl’s demeanor is awkward, as if he might be lying. My suspicious nature awakens, but I keep my thoughts to myself. “What is the state of the bookkeeping, if I may ask, my lord?”
“I’m afraid, I was negligent in keeping tabs on things for some time. Mr. Bellston, the former steward, has left things untidy. I tried to sort it out, but find I need help.” He meets my gaze for the first time since I entered the room.
Jane’s expression remains calm and positive, as it always does. She smooths her perfectly ordered hair. “Miss Wittman has the required skills to help you. She has long been the society’s lady in waiting, as she excels at helping young women move on to the next stage of their lives. However, this is not out of her comfort level and she has assisted me with Lord Everton’s and my estates for many years.”
“You are a nanny?” Oscar has no issue making eye contact now.
Never one to show temper, I stuff the roiling in my gut down. “I am an Everton Lady. I have held many positions over the last seven years.”
He stands. “This will not work. I apologize for taking up your time, ladies.”
Jane gets up, so I follow. Why would an earl come to the society for this post when there are more traditional ways of finding a new steward? “Lord Kendall, if it is discretion you’re after, I am your best option.”
His jaw ticks and he narrows his green eyes. “Even if that were true, how would I explain you to the ton? A woman of your age in my home, traveling with me to my country estates, it would be scandalous.”
“I see your point, my lord,” Jane says. “While I could send Miss Wittman with a chaperon, I doubt that would help. The gossip would be that you somehow lost your steward and hired a woman. People would meddle into what happened with Mr. Bellston, and I’m guessing you wouldn’t want that.” Without noticing Oscar’s cringe, she continues, “I beg your pardon, Miss Wittman, but you’re too old to be placed as the earl’s ward. Besides, some people will remember your time out in society.”
Wishing I could keep my cheeks from showing my embarrassment, I hold myself expressionless and nod.
“Do you have a niece or younger sister, my lord?” Jane taps her chin with her index finger.
“I don’t know where you’re going with this line of questioning, Lady Everton.” His hands go to his hips and he strikes an imposing figure.
A soft smile pulls at Jane’s lips. “Forgive me, I have an idea that would work if you have a young lady in your family whom you might take on as a ward. Then the world might be told that Miss Wittman is a governess and she could be in your homes without anyone questioning her presence.”
My pulse races, and I can’t decide if it’s because of the notion of running such a large estate, the lies that will have to be told, or if there’s a thrill at working with the man hovering over them. “I’m not an adept liar, Lady Jane.”
Jane frowns.
