Page 63 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
“I beg your pardon?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
The countess’s strange smile brightened, and she winked at her son.
“I know you are talking about our own dear Miss White,” she said. “And I happen to know that she is, in fact, of noble birth. She is the daughter of a baron. Therefore, it is perfectly acceptable for you to marry her.”
Edward’s mouth fell open. How on earth could she know such a thing? And how could he not?
“Pardon?” he asked again, bewildered. “I mean, how—?”
The countess looked at her son slyly.
“A mother knows,” she said. “And you two made no secret of your feelings for one another. It is entirely obvious from the way you look at each other. And as to how I knew of her noble status, well. . .” she paused, smirking, “. . .as I said, a mother knows.”
Edward’s heart leapt, but he was still too stunned to speak.
“You have chosen well, my darling,” the countess said, taking her son’s hand in hers. “I give my full and complete blessing for you to marry Miss White.”
Edward felt he could burst with happiness. That was all the motivation he needed to break out of his stunned daze. He leapt from his chair, kissing his mother on the cheek.
“I will never understand how you did it, Mother,” he cried, “but I will be forever in your debt.”
The countess shook her head, stroking her son’s cheek.
“Go and speak to your bride-to-be,” she said. “I believe you will have no trouble in getting her to say yes.”
Edward nodded, kissing her again. He turned to run from the room, only to run straight into Clarke. The butler’s face was grim, and he was accompanied by a short, stout man dressed in a long trench coat.
“Milord,” he said. “A Constable Franks is here, and he needs to speak with you immediately.”
Edward bowed to the constable, perplexed.
“Good day, Constable,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I am rather busy at this moment. May I ask what you wish to speak to me about so urgently?”
The constable tipped his hat, his face serious.
“It is regarding one Miss Serena White,” he said. “And it is indeed urgent that we speak now, my lord.”
Chapter Twenty-six
The second batch of cookies came out perfectly, so Serena made a third. She planned to take a plate of them up to the countess, and another to Mrs. Chantry, to thank her for helping her with the arrangements for the ball. She was exhausted, but her mind was in turmoil. She needed to talk to someone, even if they thought her foolish.
As the third batch of cookies baked, she cleaned up the kitchen. She put away the remaining dough, so she could use it the next morning to make pastries. Then, she paced the kitchen, thinking about Lord Drinkwater. Had he apologised because he regretted dancing with her? Would he have even considered such a thing if he had been sober?
She wanted to believe she’d seen some affection in his eyes for her when he’d appeared in the kitchen earlier, just as she had the previous evening. But it had been so hard to tell, as the alcohol had left the earl in quite a state.
And it was what he hadnotsaid that had set off the butterflies in her stomach once more. He had not said that he was in the wrong for dancing with her because she was a housekeeper. He had said that he had not wanted to make her uncomfortable or embarrassed. But what did that mean exactly?
She plated up the last batch of cookies as soon as they were ready. She burned the tips of her fingers, as she was too impatient to wait until they were properly cooled. She hardly noticed, however. The fire in her heart for the earl, foolish or not, burned far hotter. She put the second plate of cookies on the counter by the door, then hurried down the hall and upstairs to the countess’s bedchambers.
She was stunned to find the room empty. She thought the countess might be taking a bath, but the conjoining washroom was empty too. When she looked again in the main chamber, she noticed the bed was made, and the countess’s nightdress and a rumpled sheet lay over a chair by the door.
Puzzled, Serena gathered up the linens and, setting down the plate tray of cookies, was about to put them into the laundry bin, when one of the new maids came in to gather the day’s laundry.
“Would you mind washing these, as well?” Serena asked, handing them to her. “I can come and help you with the laundry a little later if you’d like.”
The black-haired maid smiled sweetly and shook her head, taking the items from Serena.
“No need, Miss White,” she said. “There is not much left to wash. I will get it done at once.”
