Page 54 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
“And this,” Rose said, pointing to the young woman with them, “is their beautiful daughter, Lady Alice.”
Edward bowed, introducing himself as he took in the people in front of him. His aunts, in typical fashion, were wearing matching gowns. That night, they were wearing green dresses with matching lace trim, shoes, and gloves. They both wore pearl tiaras atop stiff chignons.
Lord and Lady Carteret were a symphony in blue. Lord Carteret had silver-black hair and shrewd brown eyes. His wife had fading blond hair and dark blue eyes. They seemed nice enough, but Edward could tell by their conversation that they were every bit the typically shallowtoncouple.
Lady Alice had shining blond hair, a too-bright gold dress, and her blue eyes sparkled with all the life of a nineteen-year-old young woman. But they were also vacant, and the first thing she did when she noticed Edward smiling at her was blush and giggle.For heaven’s sake,Edward groaned inwardly.
Edward gave polite responses to Carteret's questions, but all the while, he prayed that they, and his aunts, would leave him soon. But when the orchestra played the first notes of the evening, he caught his aunts staring at him with wide, expectant eyes.
“You should ask Lady Alice to dance,” Rose whispered, loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“I am sure she would love to dance,” Blanche added, not bothering to keep her voice low.
Edward flushed as the young woman’s parents joined his aunts in looking at him with expectation. He gritted his teeth, turning to Lady Alice.I might as well get this over with,he thought, offering her his arm. The young woman took it, giggling and blushing as he led her onto the dance floor.
Instantly, Edward regretted it. All Lady Alice did was stare up at him and blush any time he said anything. She did not speak at all, and Edward could not help wondering if she was a mute. He was all too glad when the dance ended. He returned her to her parents, excusing himself hastily before his aunts could say a word.
Quickly, he sought out another dance partner. Not because he wanted to dance again, but because he knew that, if he didn’t, his aunts would home in and shoot him back to Lady Alice. His new partner was a brunette, and she offered more in the way of conversation, but she was plain and clumsy. He was glad to finish his dance with her, too.
Throughout the night, he danced with several other women. Yet even the prettiest of them, a lovely redhead, was boring to him. Everywhere he looked in the room reminded him of the hard work Miss White had put into preparing for the ball.
And she did not even have the chance to enjoy it, since she was merely the housekeeper. It seemed a downright shame to him because she was the most deserving of all to enjoy such a lovely party.Would it be so wrong to dance with her?
The evening eventually ended, and he managed to avoid Lady Alice for the rest of the night. That, and the fact that all the guests left with smiles and praise for the lovely ball, left him feeling perfectly content. And yet, as he bade them all goodbye, helping himself to more champagne, he still could not stop thinking about Miss White.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Serena, dear,” Mrs. Chantry said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you have a rest? You have been working harder than I ever did. I think you need some fresh air.”
Serena turned to the elderly housekeeper with a tight smile, prepared to resist the notion. But the older woman’s eyes were kind yet determined, and her smile brooked no argument.
“Will you be alright?” Serena asked. “This is your first big project since you fell ill.”
Mrs. Chantry laughed, taking a purposefully exaggerated, deep breath that was free of wheezing or coughing.
“Dear, all the hard work is done,” she said. “All that is left for us to do is to replenish the refreshments until the ball ends and clean up afterwards. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, it feels wonderful to be working again.”
Serena giggled and nodded.
“Very well,” she said, wiping some light perspiration from her forehead with a hanky. “I suppose a little fresh air would do me good.”
Mrs. Chantry nodded, satisfied.
“Good,” she said. “And don’t hurry back. There will be plenty of time for cleaning up after the guests leave.”
Serena nodded, determined to return within half an hour, despite the senior housekeeper’s generosity. But the break would do her a great deal of good, however, and she was suddenly very grateful for it.
She slipped out of the kitchen and out of the back door. The pleasantly cool spring night air was an immediate relief, and she breathed in deeply. She looked up at the half moon in the cloudless sky and exhaled. The air felt wonderful, and the sky was beautiful. And yet, there was a heaviness in her heart.
Earlier that day, she’d received a letter from Mr. Tate. He had written to inform her that the inventory for her family’s home was finished, and that the public auction would be in one month. She had thought about the letter all day as she and Mrs. Chantry prepared for the ball, but she could not bring herself to confide in the older housekeeper.
Worst of all, the solicitor wrote in his letter that the finer pieces of furniture, namely, her mother’s pianoforte and her father’s desk, would raise much less money than they were truly worth. He did not explain to her why that was; he only said that there would be almost nothing left for her after the remaining bills and debts were paid.
She had considered writing back to him, asking him to postpone the auction until she could try to sell the pieces on her own. But she was afraid that if she did, he would realise she had hidden some items to sell without his knowledge, which might mean trouble with the authorities. Still, she could not understand how the price of such valuable items could diminish so greatly.
Frustrated and unable to suppress her anguish over her lost life and inheritance any longer now she was alone, she sat on the grass among the roses and cried.
She released her grief for both her father and mother, as well as her anger at her mother’s lies to her about her inheritance. She cried for her dear servants and friends, whom she missed dearly, despite her correspondence with them. And she cried for the home and treasured possessions she would soon lose forever.
