“You’ve assumed my duties again! You have no right to go into my rooms without leave!” the one pointing her finger protested.
The other let out a frustrated sigh. “I only meant to help.” She rolled her eyes.
“Help? By making me look careless in front of Mrs. Withers?!”
The quarrel was drawing more attention. Aurelia even spotted footmen sneaking glances from the doorways.
Seeing no sign that the maids would cease arguing anytime soon, she turned and stepped forward before Mrs. Withers could speak.
“That is enough.” Her voice came out calm, but sharp enough to cut through the tension.
Both maids turned around at her voice, and their eyes widened.
Aurelia immediately softened, wanting to ease the fear written all over their faces.
“You meant to help?” she asked, looking at the smaller maid clutching the linens.
She hesitated, then nodded timidly.
“And you,” Aurelia continued, turning to the accuser, “felt your job was threatened?”
The other maid swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Aurelia paused, letting the silence settle, before speaking again.
“In this house, there is no need for fear where there is honesty. Help offered in good faith should be welcomed, but each one must also respect the pride another takes in their work.” A smile touched her lips. “Do you both understand?”
The taller maid dropped her finger with a sigh, a rueful look on her face. “I just hope she will ask me next time before taking my place,” she muttered.
The shorter maid sighed, but the worry on her face had faded. “I will.”
“Alright,” the taller one said with a smile, then she turned to Aurelia. “We apologize for causing a scene, Your Grace.”
Aurelia smiled, waving them off, glad the argument was over.
The two maids apologized to each other and soon moved along to carry on their duties. The other servants also left, but positive whispers about the new mistress could be heard flitting about as they moved. No doubt the quarrel had drawn eyes, and they had all wanted to see what the new duchess would do. Mrs. Withers had to issue a reprimand before they all scurried back to their duty posts.
“You handled that well,” Mrs. Withers stated with a hint of wonder. “Most ladies would have meted out punishment. You… de-escalated the situation.”
Aurelia shrugged a shoulder. “My father always says that quarrels are like fires. Feed them, and they grow. Remove the fuel, and they die.”
The housekeeper nodded, and they resumed walking.
They found themselves in the study, where she guided Aurelia through the estate ledgers. Aurelia listened as Mrs. Withers told her about the renovations that had been made to the manor. Several times, Percival’s name came up with discipline and control.
“His Grace keeps everything in order,” she stated. “He values precision above all else.”
“And happiness?” Aurelia asked softly, trailing her finger down a list of expenditures.
The older woman hesitated. “Happiness is… not often a word spoken here.”
Her words cut deep. Although Aurelia had smiled faintly, her heart ached.
The next morning, Aurelia broke her fast alone. Lottie was away for a week, as she had joined other noble girls for a week-long etiquette training, while Percival was… doing his best to avoid her.
But luck was on her side that morning, for she found him near the stables, issuing orders to a footman.
The sight of him stopped her mid-step.