Page 47 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
Miss White jumped from her seat, her cheeks flushing. For the first time, her red cheeks did not make Edward smile. Rather, his stomach twisted, especially when she fumbled to curtsey.
“Forgive me, my lord, ladies,” she said. “I am Miss White, the new housekeeper.”
“And you should be ashamed of yourself for bothering the countess while she is convalescing,” Rose said, shaking her head.
Blanche nodded again, hurrying over to the countess.
“You should absolutely be convalescing,” she said. “Do not worry. We will dismiss this . . . presumptuous servant for you.”
Before his mother could respond, Blanche turned around and pointed to the door, glowering at Miss White.
“You may return to your duties now,” she said.
Edward stepped forward to speak, but Rose held up her hand.
“We shall handle this, my boy,” she said, clicking her tongue. “I suspect she got the idea that this is all right because you have refused to discipline her.”
Blanche shuddered.
“Can you imagine?” she asked.
Miss White looked both devastated and furious, and Edward moved toward her.
“I am sorry,” he said softly, but the young woman shook her head.
“I will go,” she said, her voice trembling. “Good day, Lord Drinkwater, ladies.”
With another brief curtsey, she left, leaving Edward feeling hurt and confused, and enraged with his aunts.
When he looked back at his mother, she looked worried and angry. But she also looked weak and tired, as if the last thing she could handle was her overbearing sisters-in-law.
“I believe we should all leave Mother to rest,” he said. “She needs to sleep as much as she can.
Blanche started to argue, but the countess cleared her throat, albeit weakly.
“I really am not up to company,” she said. “The dear housekeeper brought me some tea, for which I asked. But I cannot manage any new company just now. Please, let me rest.”
Rose started to butt in, but this time Edward shushed her.
“Mother’s word is final,” he said, practically gloating. “We shall go and prepare for dinner and let Mother sleep.”
Before either of them could continue arguing, Edward did to them what Blanche had done to dear Miss White. He pointed to the door firmly.
“Let us leave her,” he said.
The two women began mumbling to each other, reluctantly walking toward the door.
“We shall come see you after dinner, dear,” Rose said, turning back to the countess. But bless his mother, she was pretending to have already fallen asleep. Edward looked at her after his aunts had left the room and saw her wink at him. He winked back as he closed the door, pulling it all the way to. Then, he pointedly gestured for his aunts to lead the way to the dining room.
Clarke, with whom his aunts seemed to have no problem, served the evening meal. They thanked him politely as he left the room, and Edward thought things might return to normal again. But a moment later, Rose proved him wrong.
“You really should never allow servants to dine or take tea with you,” she said, unfolding the napkin in her lap. “It is unseemly and lacks refinement and good taste.”
“Yes,” Blanche said. “Besides, no servant who does such bad work deserves any special treatment.”
Edward glared at the woman.
“Poor work?” he asked. “What precisely do you mean?”
