Page 11 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
Deliberately placing herself between Lord Hillbrook and Mr. Moore, she took the tray, “Thank you, Mr. Moore.”
“You are welcome, My Lady. Good evening My Lords,” Mr. Moore bowed and greeted. “Do you need anything else, My Lady?”
Before she could say a word, Lord Hillbrook said icily, “No, she does not. You are dismissed.”
Mr. Moore bowed, said his calm farewells and exited. Holding the tray, Penelope spun to the two and said tightly. “That was uncalled for.”
“Penelope—” Edward tried, but she cut him off.
“Thank you for the biscuits, My Lord,” she said to the Baron. “But that dismissal was and still is uncalled for. If the trip to London took a toll on you and you are tired, I understand, and I will leave you be. Good evening, Edward and Lord Hillbrook.”
With the tray in her hand and halfway across the way to the house, she stopped and groaned. Ominous threads were tangling themselves around her soul. Something was going to go wrong, horribly wrong, but she did not know what…and that scared her dearly.
Chapter 5
So that is why Lord Hillbrook does not like me. He thinks he has ownership of Lady Penelope, and I might be a rival.
Flipping on the bed, Heath rested on his stomach and the cool night air from the window played over his bare back. With his head braced on his arms, he shook his head slowly.
Some of these peers are so insecure they see everyone as a rival.
His mind shifted from Lord Hillbrook and reflected on his first day; overall, he deemed it was a success. The responsibilities were reasonable, and his efforts matched what he was tasked with. There was one tiny regret he had—seeing Lady Penelope in motion.
The lady had looked, frankly, glorious when she had come into the stables. Her golden eyes were glimmering, her skin was flushed with exertion, and her hair an untamed tangle of natural beauty.
He had never seen a woman in such a state, and he would treasure that memory for years to come. Seeing her in breeches too was another shock—a wonderful shock as she showed she was not afraid to flaunt some rules of society—but tactfully, he had kept his reaction to the sight under control.
I have a job to do at the Dawson house, and God help me, I go am going to do it right.
Those words circulated in his mind as he drifted to sleep. Even as a child he had slept light; the slightest noise and shift in the room would make him wake up, and he was thankful, he slept undisturbed that night. His body clock woke him before dawn, and he cleaned up quickly. Dressed in the second set of his dark uniform, he went to open the shutters, and with that done, went to get the coals for the fires.
“Good morning, Mr. Moore,” Mr. Gastrell said while striding in, fully dressed and attentive.
“Good morning, Mr. Gastrell,” Heath replied as he began cleaning and trimming the lamps. “What is on the roster for today?”
“Same as yesterday, Mr. Moore, with the single exception of you laying filling the sideboard, while I set the table,” the butler replied. “Mrs. Burcham is finished with breakfast I believe.”
Taking the cue, Heath went to the kitchen, greeted the cook and her helper and collected the trays. He took the first trays to the sideboard and set the food in order.
Heath had seen sideboards before, but this one was different; this one wasn’t veneered, it was made of deep, dark mahogany wood. He slid his hand along the polished top and the carved gadrooned edge. The intricate carvings looked to be custom designed. This piece of furniture reflected old money and rightly so. The family certainly had it.
He searched for the traditional cellarette drawer for the glasses he would need.
“Do I smell cinnamon?” Lady Penelope waltzed in dressed in a light-yellow morning dress. Her hair was styled differently with soft ringlets down her cheeks instead of her bun and he admired it.
“Good morning, My Lady,” Heath replied while making sure the trays were in order. “And yes, there are cinnamon rolls, chocolate tea, milk, white bread, preserves, butter, and fruit for your repast this morning. What can I plate up for you?”
She made to sit, and he hurried to pull out her chair. Her soft smile of thanks was beautiful.
“Thank you,” she smiled to her plate. “You’re certainly up early Mr. Moore…” she stopped before rushing on, “of course, you are up early. What was I thinking? It is your position after all, so of course, you would be up early. Why would you not? I mean—oh, heavens, I’m rambling. My apologies. A cup of chocolate please.”
Heath’s lips quirked as he donned gloves and poured her the cup. “I do not mind, My Lady.”
“Eddie always tells me that I ramble,” she sighed. “But that was the first time I actually heard it.Gadzooks, I sound horrible.”
Resting the cup beside her, Heath spotted her hands twisting on the table. Her fingers were long and elegant like her brother’s, but her nails were uneven, and some were bitten.
Not the type of lady to fuss over her nails. Then again, she is into riding, why would she be concerned about her nails?
