Page 44 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
I love you,she imagined him saying to her, taking her hands and twirling her around the room to some imaginary music.Marry me, Serena. Say you will be my wife.
I love you, too,she envisioned herself saying, stopping the dance to stand on her toes and kiss him on the lips.I would be honoured to be your wife.
“Miss White,” Emily said, running up to her with one of the linens she had washed earlier flapping in her arms.
Serena gasped, covering her mouth with her hands and immediately sneezing, as the linen was covered with dust.
“You scared me to death,” she said, giggling. “Is something wrong with the linens?”
Emily stared at Serena with bewilderment for a moment. Then, she realised Serena was looking at the linen in her hands and blushed, shaking her head.
“Oh, no, Miss White,” she said. “I simply planned to fetch them from the clothesline to assist you. But I ran into Mrs. Chantry just as I got started, and she told me about the countess.”
Serena’s cheeks flushed with fresh excitement.
“Isn’t it incredible?” she asked. “And Lord Drinkwater looked so happy and relieved. It was a moment I have been praying to see.”
Emily smiled, truly smiled, for the first time since Serena had met her. It was then Serena realised that the young maid, too, had had a dark cloud hanging over her all that time. Things must have been difficult for her before Serena had arrived, caring for the countess all by herself.
Overwhelmed with affection and admiration for the young maid, Serena threw her arms around her.
“I believe things will be much better around her from now on, Emily,” she said.
Emily gasped, clearly surprised by the sudden display of affection from her superior. But after a moment, she embraced Serena, as well.
“I believe you are right,” she said.
Chapter Nineteen
“Milord?” Clarke said, peeking around the doorframe of the study.
Edward looked up from a paper he had been staring through rather than at, only realising then that he had been singing softly to himself.
“Yes?” he asked, grinning at the butler.
Clarke entered, looking at Edward quizzically.
“Singing, are we my lord?” he asked.
Edward grinned, jumping from his seat, and rushing over to the butler.
“Mother was eating this afternoon, Clarke!” he cried. “And she spoke!”
Clarke gaped at Edward, shaking his head.
“Truly?” he asked.
Edward nodded, clapping the butler on the back.
“Truly,” he said. “And all the while, she smiled. Could there be better news?”
At this, Clarke winced. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.
“Better news, my lord, certainly not,” he said. “And I must say, the timing is impeccable.”
It was Edward’s turn to look perplexed.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
