Page 59 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
Serena locked herself in her tiny room and leaned against the door, breathless. She might have written off her strange dance with the earl as a fantasy. But the smell of the champagne on his breath lingered in her nose, and she could still feel the warmth of his arms around her. Why had he done such a thing?
Hoping to let sleep take away her jumbled thoughts of what had just happened, Serena undressed and got into bed. She nestled into her blankets and closed her eyes, thinking of how well the ball had gone, how happy all the guests had seemed as they were leaving, and how pleased the earl evidently was.
But sleep did not come. Instead, she thought again about the upcoming auction. She hoped she would not need to be present. She could not bear to watch everything she and her family had owned and prized being handed over to those who would profit from, and, no doubt, laugh at, her misfortune.
She also replayed her earlier conversation with Lady Alice in the garden. Serena had had no idea that the earl was even thinking of marriage, let alone that he had a match in mind. Of course, why should she know? She was, after all, merely his housekeeper. She no longer had the status of a baron’s daughter, and the earl’s business was none of hers.
Still, as she remembered what Lady Alice had said about being set to marry him, her heart ached. Though it was foolish, she realised she had truly begun to hope that Lord Drinkwater might, one day, develop feelings for her, as she had for him.
But she now knew that he would never choose her, not even in her previous station, over the daughter of a duke.But she does not even love him,she thought.And I do. . .
At one time, not so long ago, Serena would have taken her mind off her tumultuous thoughts by visiting the countess. Just spending time with Lady Drinkwater, whom, she understood from Emily, was gradually improving every day, used to bring her joy and help her forget her sorrows.
Now, with the earl’s awful aunts at the mansion, she never got the chance. Each time she thought about stealing into the countess’s room for a few moments, to take her some new tidbit, some fresh flowers, or a new periodical, one or both of the horrid women would be there, badgering the poor countess.
Serena could not tell if the old lady was responding to them, but she would wave to her, and then quickly disappear from the doorway before the women saw her. She hoped the aunts were not pestering the countess in the same way they had been their nephew. Serena shuddered to think that they might even drive the countess back to her previous condition.
When she was still not asleep as the clock struck five o’clock in the morning, she rose from her bed. She was, in truth, exhausted, but she knew she would never fall asleep now, not even if she lay in bed all day. Besides, she had an idea. She only hoped it would work.
She went ahead and dressed for the day, even though it was early enough to get away with slipping on her robe. She was only going to the kitchens, after all. But she would rather be ready to visit the countess as soon as she was finished with her task.
She left her room, closing the door quietly, and went straight to the kitchens. She was much more confident in there now, knowing exactly which bowls and utensils she needed. Then, she banked up the range, fetched the flour, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, and apples, and began to bake.
With the knowledge and practice she now had with cooking, she felt confident she could make the apple cookies the countess loved so much. And making them would bring her a small bit of solace. She had discovered a love for cooking while working with Mrs. Chantry, especially when preparing for the ball, and she could not wait to try it on her own again.
She meticulously prepared the apples, chopping them into small cubes. She sprinkled them with cinnamon and allowed them to sit for a while near the warmth of the range, to ensure the apple would marinate in the spice. Then, she mixed her other ingredients into a bowl and added the water.
Mixing the dough was calming, as Serena had hoped it would be. She thought of how thrilled the countess would be at having apple cookies for a treat first thing in the morning. Though she had not seen the countess much since her sisters-in-law had arrived, she had heard from Emily that Lady Drinkwater was getting better every day.
She allowed herself to imagine having tea with the countess in the garden or having a glass of champagne with her in the parlour after dinner some evenings. Now Lady Drinkwater was well enough, she thought she might suggest that to her. She truly thought of the countess as a friend, and Serena hoped their friendship would only grow now that the lady was recovering.
But as she took the dough from the bowl and began to roll it out, another thought occurred to her. According to Lady Alice, she was supposed to marry Lord Drinkwater quite soon. Would Serena be able to stand being at Chimneys if the earl had a wife?
No,she thought, all the hopelessness and anguish she had felt as she’d cried in the garden returned to her.My heart could not take such grief. I could never stand to see Lord Drinkwater with another woman . . . a wife.
It was true, of course, and she knew it. But she loved her job, just as much as she cared for the earl. Moreover, she still very much needed the salary. And she had come to regard Mr. Clarke and Emily as lifelong friends. Mrs. Chantry, as well, though she knew the elderly lady would be retiring soon.
The decision was a difficult one, and she felt torn. To leave Chimneys would mean that she would, once more, be leaving behind everything she loved. In addition to her feelings for Lord Drinkwater, she had also developed a strong bond with the countess. She could not begin to imagine not having her, or anyone else at Chimneys, in her life.Especially not Lord Drinkwater. . .
Would she be able to see him with his wife and not be crushed each time, purely for the sake of keeping the other things and people in her life that meant so much to her? She had put so much care into her duties, and she knew she would never find a family, or fellow employees, or a home, where she so deeply felt she belonged. Her head spun, and she slapped the dough on top of the counter in frustration.
And what about what Lady Alice had said? That she did not wish to marry Lord Drinkwater. She was in love with another man. Would she tell the earl thatbeforethey were married? Or at all? Or would she, perhaps, go ahead and elope with the man she loved?
Serena knew better than to hope that Lady Alice would fly in the face of convention and flee to avoid marrying the earl. She might easily change her mind. But Serena could not help feeling a little hopeful, as ashamed as she knew she should be for it. She felt she had to hope for such a thing, however. She did not think she could stay and watch the man she loved in love with another woman.
With a sigh, Serena finished working the dough and began shaping it for the cookies. She tried to push away all thoughts, except how much she loved to cook. But if she left Chimneys for another position, she would probably never be able to be in a kitchen ever again, not without remembering where and how she’d learned to cook.
She wished she could talk to Mrs. Chantry or the countess about her conflicting emotions. But she knew Mrs. Chantry would just remind her that it was inappropriate to think of her employer in such a way, and the countess might laugh at her, or even be angry. She could write to Evelyn for advice, she thought, and she probably would. But it was not the same.
As she put the cookies into the oven, she heard the kitchen door open. She turned around, prepared to greet Mrs. Chantry, but once more, her heart stopped.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said, curtseying.
The earl gave her a weak smile, and Serena could not help noticing his appearance. He was rather dishevelled, looking as though he had just rolled out of bed, after having only slept for about five minutes.
But even with his hair a haphazard mess, his eyes red-rimmed and underscored with dark circles, he still looked beautiful to her. She gripped the counter to fight a sudden, unbearable urge to run over and hug him. As he licked his dry lips, she also felt the desire to kiss him. She knew she mustn’t, as he was her employer, besides being about to marry Lady Alice. But she could not help imagining it, for just a moment.
“Good morning,” he croaked, giving her an embarrassed smile. “I came to apologise to you for my behaviour last night. I should never have made you dance with me. That was entirely inappropriate. I’m afraid the champagne took over my thinking last night.”
