Page 23 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“Thank you,” Eleanor murmured politely as he led her into a small room, the walls plastered and partly paneled for warmth, the window covered with a filmy curtain that let warm morning sun flood into the space. The smell of toast hit her at once and her stomach knotted with hunger.
“Of course, my lady,” the butler replied, seeming surprised at her politeness. “I will fetch you a pot of warm tea.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor said again, feeling touched. In a world of cold, indifferent strangers—or friendly but eccentric ones—the butler was one of the only people she’d met so far who seemed to have no secrets.
He smiled at her, seeming a little confused, and hurried out to fetch the tea. She sat at the table, buttering a slice of toast and thinking.
She needed to find answers. Perhaps the household staff was a good place to start.
The butler arrived with the tea but before she had a chance to ask him anything at all, he hurried to the door.
“I must make arrangements for Lord Glenfield and his father—some men are coming to discuss investments in a shipping venture.”
“Oh.” Eleanor felt her heart twist a little sadly. Since her arrival here, Lord Glenfield seemed preoccupied with business. For a man who had a terrible reputation, he seemed to spend a lot of time discussing investments and other estate matters, and she found herself frowning as she decided that she had to ask him some questions, and soon.
Chapter 9
“My lady?” Miss Whitford asked as she arranged Eleanor’s hair before luncheon. “A few pearl-ended pins there, do you think?”
Eleanor glanced up from studying the bottles and brushes on her table and inclined her head. “Perhaps,” she agreed. Miss Whitford was helping her to dress since they were expecting guests at lunchtime—the gentlemen who had come to discuss business with Lord Glenfield and his father. Miss Whitford had arranged her hair in a formal style, ringlets about her face and the back in an elaborate chignon, decorated with pearls. Luncheon at Ramsgate Manor was evidently a formal event, at least when guests were visiting.
She hadn’t stopped thinking all morning about the strange questions that the ladies at teatime had raised. She wasn’t sure what was more disturbing—the murmurings about Lord Glenfield, or the suggestion of a curse. Since the conversation, she couldn’t help the fact that the manor seemed suddenly sinister, the shadows a little darker as if something wicked lurked there.
Nonsense, she told herself firmly. She had always been practical and direct. She was not going to let some stories—about him or about anything else—bother her. She looked up at Miss Whitford. Perhaps she knew something and could reassure her.
“Have you worked here long?” she asked the woman conversationally as she styled her hair. Miss Whitford smiled, as if being questioned about herself was an unexpected gift.
“About two years, my lady,” she replied, still smiling. “I started here in the kitchens, aiding Mrs. Darnley. Then I was promoted to housemaid,” she explained proudly. “Tidying up,and preparing the beds and the like.”
“I see,” Eleanor replied, smiling at her where she could see her in the mirror. “You must have done good work.” Not everyone received a promotion so fast.
“I reckon I must have,” Miss Whitford answered, blushing appreciatively. “And then when you arrived, my lady, the housekeeper said that I should be the new lady’s maid. I can’t tell you how pleased I am, my lady. It’s a grand position to have.”
“I’m glad too,” Eleanor said sincerely. She already liked Miss Whitford. She wasn’t Betty, with whom Eleanor had enjoyed a friendship, but she was kind and polite, if a little more reserved than Betty had been.
“You must have been surprised by the promotion,” she commented to Miss Whitford as she reached for a light shawl that matched with the shoes.
“I was, my lady! The news surprised me. I mean, the master...” she trailed off.
“You mean it was very sudden?” Eleanor asked inquiringly.
“Yes! Very sudden,” Miss Whitford replied at once, seeming pleased for the chance not to explain further. “I didn’t know as he’d been courting, my lady.”
“Oh.” Eleanor blushed. She didn’t know what to say, since the news had seemed as sudden for her as it must have for the staff.
“Not to say I would have, my lady. I mean, the business of them in the big house is none of my business. I just clean and dust.”
“I know what you mean,” Eleanor said gently, seeing Miss Whitford was clearly feeling awkward. “And Lord Glenfield is a rather reserved person—I think he keeps his business fairly secret.”
Miss Whitford nodded. “Indeed, it is likely that he would not divulge his affairs to us, the household staff. However,servants have a tendency to overhear conversations and gather information.”
“Information,” Eleanor repeated, looking the woman in the eye. She held her breath, hoping that some sort of information about Lord Glenfield was about to be given.
“Yes. Well, things,” Miss Whitford said uncomfortably. She looked around as if she was desperate to get out of the awkward position she was in, but just then someone knocked at the door.
“My lady?” The butler’s voice called through the wood. “Terribly sorry to disturb, but his lordship has arrived with the guests.”
“Oh. I shall come down at once.” Eleanor stood, hurrying to the door. She smiled at Miss Whitford, who looked distinctly nervous. “I’m glad you were promoted to be my lady’s maid,” she told her honestly.
