Page 32 of His Wild Duchess
“Do you happen to know what wedding a Duke entails, your Grace?”
With a sigh, Penelope began to rise to her feet, taking her time in order to irritate the housekeeper even further. Remembering her own scolding housekeeper from Egerton Manor, Penelope smirked, enjoying the banter even if Mrs. Howard didn’t take it in the same way.
“I suppose not, Mrs. Howard, but I’m sure you’ll explain it to me.”
Giving her a sideways look, Mrs. Howard turned back towards the townhouse. “There are plenty of things to do on a weekly basis,” she explained. “Even though we are not at Yeats Manor, I have a list of tasks that require your approval.”
Penelope bristled, remembering the things her mother would do around the estate. “What sorts of tasks?”
“Since you’re here, it is your responsibility to set the menus, your Grace,” Mrs. Howard said as she started to walk back into the townhouse. “We will do that first, then visit the study to approvesome of the repairs being made at Yeats Manor. And, of course, the salaries need adjusting during these hectic times.”
Standing at the entrance back into the townhouse, Mrs. Howard looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Penelope but seeing that she was still a little ways away.
“Come along, your Grace,” Mrs. Howard called out, “We have much to do and little time to get it done!”
Penelope let out a heavy sigh before following behind the housekeeper, taking one last look over her shoulder as the dogs ran amok around Clarissa.What I’d give to be that lady’s maid right about now,she thought to herself as the door shut behind her. As she began to follow behind her, she tried to imagine how difficult it would be to do all the things Mrs. Howard listed. It seemed like simple work, signing a few papers and handing out bags of coin.
Holding her chin up, Penelope made herself a promise to work through it as confidently as possible. If her sister, Alicia, could handle it all, how could it be so hard for her? The sooner it was finished, the quicker she could get back to the things that really mattered.
Mrs. Howard moved with the speed of a hare. She whipped around corners and practically jogged down halls, all without ever breaking a single sweat. Penelope found it to be the most thrilling part of the entire thing. She moved fast to keep up with her, eager to let out some energy like the dogs did outside.
Finally, Mrs. Howard turned into the kitchen. “Your Grace,” she said, extending an arm over the bountiful baskets that took up counters and cabinets, “This is the harvest collected this week. Typically, we will plan the menu around it. Does that sound right to you?”
“Well,” Penelope mused, eyes glanced over the sacks of carrots and potatoes, “If we’ve already got it, we should use it.”
Mrs. Howard’s eyes narrowed, though her words never held a tinge of disrespect. “Exactly, your Grace. The cook sent out a few hunters early this morning, and we’re well-supplied with rabbit. Within the next few weeks, we should be fetching deer and pig from the market.”
Penelope’s stomach took a sour turn as they discussed the meats. Her mind wandered, imagining the hunters returning with carcasses and animals. Shuddering, she turned away, keeping her eyes focused on the sheet of paper Mrs. Howard wrote on.
“Your Grace?” Mrs. Howard said. “Are you listening?”
Shaking her head, Penelope met her stare. “W-What were you saying?”
“Would you rather have the menu focused on rabbit or something else?”
“If we have the rabbit, then -”
“We should use it,” Mrs. Howard finished. “I remember.” She turned, continuing on writing over the sheet.
Penelope leaned forward, trying to get a look at what she wrote but unable to see it well. Turning, she focused her attention on the baskets of produce. There was so much to choose from, and enough to feed more families than she knew off the top of her head. Reaching, she grabbed onto an apple, sinking her teeth into it. The juices splashed and splattered, dripping onto her dress and across her face.
With the heat of embarrassment spreading across her face, Penelope pulled the apple out her mouth, chewing on the large chunk while she felt Mrs. Howard’s judgemental gaze cling to her.
“Perhaps we may continue on to the drawing room,” Mrs. Howard said as she gathered up her papers. “I might finish writing the menu, and you may begin going through the repairs on Yeats Manor.”
Swallowing the apple, Penelope felt a pit grow in her stomach as her confidence waned. If there was one thing that she knew for sure that she wasn’t good at, it was being the thing that society wanted her to be. The moment she was meant to follow through on the duties required of her as a Duchess, they became the things she had been bad at all her life. Following behind Mrs. Howard, Penelope ate her apple despite the bad taste it left in her mouth.
As they passed by a study, Penelope caught a quick glimpse at George. He stood beside a wide window, a few papers in his hands. His lips moved absentmindedly as he read the pages, flipping through them rapidly. She moved quickly down the hall as he started to turn, his gaze only catching the wispy ends of her auburn locks.
Mrs. Howard lead her into a drawing room, where there was a round table and a few chairs set up all around it. The housekeeper lowered her work onto the table before crossing to a desk, retrieving a stack of envelopes and placing them down in front of where Penelope stood.
“What are these?” she asked, reaching forward to touch the pile. “There are so many!”
“Those are the requested repairs for Yeats Manor.”
Penelope laid them out, counting more than twenty. “I’m supposed to go through them all?”
“They are all of the same importance, your Grace,” Mrs. Howard said, though she looked rather smug about it. “Each request requires your input and your approval.”
