Page 53 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
Edward forced himself to smile brightly, not wishing to worry her.
“They are just not accustomed to living the way we are now,” he said, referring to the mansion, which was only just looking as it once had, and the finances, which were again near depleted due to the ball. “You’ve heard all about the ball, I suppose.”
His mother’s eyes darkened.
“Yes,” she said. “They have been raving about it to me for days. They keep asking me to attend, but I keep telling them that I am still far too weak.”
Edward felt his own face darken.
“If they are troublesome, I can see to it that they stop disturbing you,” he said.
The countess shook her head.
“That would only make life more difficult for the servants, I fear,” she said. “Especially dear Miss White. They had no right to speak to her the way they did, or to banish her from visiting me. Now, the poor girl is terrified to come back because they’re always in here.”
Edward twitched, recalling their behaviour. No one had the right to speak to his sweet, beautiful housekeeper so rudely. But he could do little about it, apart from continuing to praise Miss White. If they ever spoke that way to her again, however, he would put a stop to it at once, as he had promised her he would.
“They are difficult,” Edward admitted. “And they have a way of speaking very harshly to the staff. But it is nothing I cannot manage. Besides, perhaps after this ball, they will be in better spirits.”
He and his mother shared a doubtful look. Then, they both laughed.
***
When the evening of the ball arrived, Edward was stunned upon entering the ballroom. He had known it would be spectacular, with Miss White supervising the cleaning and decorating. But what he saw took away his breath, and he could only stand and stare in awe.
Gold, silver, and purple was everywhere in the room, in banners, wreaths, tablecloths, tinsel, and ribbons. The candlesticks were pewter, but no one would ever know it by the way they had been painted and polished. Every surface visible was cleaned until it shone, and the vases throughout the room were filled with bright flowers.
Most impressive were the rows of buffet tables. Upon them sat bowls of mint-berry punch, wine and champagne, sliced, cold roast beef platters, fresh, steamed vegetables, pork roast with potatoes, breads and cheeses, exotic fruit, and trays of apple cookies and almond pastries. He marvelled at Miss White’s ambition and success with the food. Mrs. Chantry had been teaching her well. She was, in every way, amazing.
The glasses of champagne glitter alongside the dishes, beckoning him to take one. He did so, just as the first guests of the evening arrived. He smiled with pride as they, too, admired the ballroom’s spectacular appearance. They approached him immediately, speaking to him as though they knew him.
“Lord Drinkwater, this is so lovely,” a gray-haired woman wearing a rich-red dress said. “How is your mother faring now?”
Edward smiled politely, feeling guilty at not knowing who she was, but he was touched by her concern.
“She is recovering well,” he said. “We hope she will be back to her old self very soon.”
A balding, white-headed man gave him a sympathetic smile.
“We heard about your father and brothers,” he said. “I do hope it is not too tactless to mention them. We just wanted to offer our deepest condolences.”
Edward’s heart ached, but he kept his smile.
“That is very kind,” he said, bowing to the couple. “Thank you for your thoughtful words.”
The couple curtseyed and bowed respectfully, then excused themselves to approach more guests who had just arrived.
Edward continued greeting the guests, and the conversations all went in much the same fashion as the first had. He quickly realised that all the people asking about his mother were people he’d met years ago, neighbours and his parents’ friends, and had long forgotten.
He could not bring himself to ask them who they were, so he tried to be cordial and welcoming, feeling relief when they excused themselves to enjoy the ball. As he watched everyone mingle, he was sad that his mother could not attend. But perhaps soon, she would be well enough to host a ball of her own.
When he saw his aunts approaching with three people in tow, Edward groaned. He did not need to guess who they were. He pretended not to see them, even though his aunts waved to him, and took a glass of wine to hide behind. By the time the group reached him, the glass was half empty.
“There you are, Edward,” Rose said, her voice full of artificial honey. “We have been looking all over for you.”
Edward grinned and bowed, glad the alcohol was starting to have its intended effect.
“We would like to introduce you to some friends of ours,” Blanche said, sounding just like her sister. This,” she gestured to the older man and woman, “is Lord and Lady Carteret.”
