Page 5 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
“Mother,” he called loudly, chilled at the dismal echo. “Father.”
Still, no one came, and panic claimed Edward. He ran toward the stairs, slipping on debris and patches of dust.
As he rounded a corner, he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the cracked mirrors on the wall. His deep-green eyes looked as though they had aged ten years just since that morning. His black hair was loose from its ponytail and hanging in damp clumps around his waxen face.
His sharp chin quivered, and he turned away from his reflection. With his gaze fixed on the floor, he finished traversing the way to the staircase with great care. The dread mounted within him with each step, and it was all he could do to keep going.
He paused, staring up at the stairs with a grimace, as bile bubbled and threatened to spill past his lips. Surely, it was his imagination, but for a moment, he thought he could smell the familiar odors of sickness and death. What on earth would he find when he reached the top of the stairs?
Chapter Three
The following day, Serena sat in her father’s study, her arms resting before her on the desk and her head buried in them. The room normally brought her comfort, with its dark wooden furniture and warm-colored curtains and upholstery. But on that day, it only seemed cold and unforgiving, more like a tomb than her beloved father’s office.
It may as well be a tomb,she thought bitterly, sitting up to wipe her eyes, which she was sure were blood-red from crying.It will surely be the final resting place of everything I ever knew and believed.
She wanted to sit and cry forever. Or, at least, until the bank sent the bailiffs to force her out of her home. She was scared and distraught, and worst of all, she was all alone in her woes. She had thought the worst pain she could suffer was that of losing both her parents. She had quickly realized, while speaking with Mr. Tate, that she was very wrong.
But she could not just sit by and do nothing either. In a matter of days, she would end up on the streets, too poor even for the poorhouse. She was angry with her mother, but she could not bear the thought of shaming her family in such a manner. She was a woman, but she knew she must be strong. She could not allow herself to end up on the street, as well as broken.
Pulling herself together, Serena rose from the chair behind the desk. Her mother had not wallowed in self-pity, even as she lay dying. Serena was determined not to either. Besides, she knew as much about running her family’s estate as Mr. Tate surely did about the legal business.
She had often observed her father keeping careful financial records. While she knew nothing about business in general, she felt she knew enough about estate matters and finances to look for solutions to her current situation herself.
The will had spoken only of the house and the family fortune. It had mentioned nothing about other assets belonging to her parents. So, she decided to scour the study, looking for any financial records her father might have put away.
A thorough search of the office, however, left Serena both panicked and confused. She found a stack of papers that detailed every record and ledger her father was keeping. However, though she searched, there were some she could not find. She practically tore up the study in her eyes, collapsing into a chair in frustration when she discovered that much information was, in fact, missing. But where could it have gone?
Mr. Tate,she thought, with as much disgust as despair.He must have it.She could not fathom why he’d not brought all the necessary ledgers and papers to her when he’d brought the will to read to her. Probably, he had not deemed them important, as the will listed everything she owned. Or, rather, did not own. She covered her face again, but this time, there were no tears. This time, there was only anger. Anger toward her late mother.
“Why would Mother not have simply told me the truth?” she wailed aloud to an empty room. “How could she just leave me like this?”
The funereally silent room did not answer her, of course. It only began to spin as the fear began to take hold once more. With the records missing, her hopes of using them to solve her troubles were crushed. She was out of ideas and filled with a hopelessness that only seemed to grow by the minute.
As she thought back over her conversation with the solicitor, her emotional trembling turned to shudders of repulsion. She could not believe that, in a time of such great grief and distress, he could have had the gall to ask her to marry him. She had never felt completely comfortable with him, though she could never quite explain why. But she did know she could never marry him. Not if she could help it, at least.
Using her outrage to overcome her crippling sadness, she rose from the chair and began to pace. If she could not use her father’s records to help her, and she would not even consider marrying Mr. Tate, what options were left to her? She regretted having not attended more social events in the past three years. She might then have been able to consult with dear friends about her predicament.
The thought came to her as though it were not her own.Employment.She gasped, surprised she had not thought of it sooner, rushing back over to the desk to see if there was a recent copy of theLondon Timesburied under the scattered paperwork. She was thankful to find it quickly, discarded and teetering on the edge of the desk.
She scooped it up, taking the seat at the desk once again. She cleared away the messy papers in front of her, so she could spread out the paper. But as she reached the listings for employment, another question came to mind. What would she do for work? She had never worked before, and thus, she had no employment skills or experience. Could she be a governess with no experience? A housekeeper, or a cook? Perhaps even a maid?
I could never suffer the dismal life of a governess,she thought, immediately feeling guilty for thinking such a thing. She was hardly in a position to be choosy, but she didn’t believe she could put on a happy face in what was reputedly a gloomy position to occupy. She had never cooked anything in her life, so being a cook was out of the question. And it was highly unlikely that anyone would hire a baron’s daughter as a maid.
Housekeeping, however, was something she was sure she could do with great ease. She had been running the home on her own while her mother was ill, with only the help of Evelyn, who was like a second mother to her.
She was confident in her skills as a housekeeper, and if there was anything she should know about housekeeping for someone else, she knew Evelyn would teach her.
With determination replacing the fear and hopelessness, Serena began scanning the paper for the ads specifically seeking housekeepers. She found the section employment section, scanning the columns closely for any available housekeeper’s position.
Her hands were trembling, and her mind was racing too far ahead of itself. She forced herself to take a deep breath and then try reading the pages once more.
At last, she saw an advert that caught her attention. It was not one for direct employment, however. As she read, she realized it was an ad for an employment agency that recruited staff for prominent families. She smiled. Going through an agency would likely be easier than trying to find work on her own. And it would surely produce results more quickly.
She took a sheet of stationery from the desk and dipped the pen in the inkwell. She thought it over for a moment, knowing she would only get one chance to make a good first impression. Her lack of skills worried her, but she had to put that aside. Determined, she penned her letter:
To Whom it May Concern,
My name is Serena White. I saw your advert in theLondon Times, and I am interested in being taken on by your company. I am seeking employment, and I can take up a position as soon as it is available.
