Secrets in Mourning (5 page)

Sigh. Victoria had no intention of offending the woman, but it was obvious that she had. It was something she would have to deal with later. “Do you know where the Earl is now?”

“From what I understand, he is in the south gardens.”

“All right.” Victoria stood, ready to leave. “I appreciate your help. With any hope, we will be able to have new hires within the week.”

Nodding briskly, Mrs. Waversly stood. “Very well.” Knowing she wasn’t needed any longer, the housekeeper made her way out of the room.

Victoria let out a pent-up breath. She had no desire to ask the Earl for anything, but there was no way she could work a miracle with a skeleton crew. She would need help, and to get that help, she would need to appeal to His Lordship.

Oh how that grated her pride. She had fully expected to not speak with him for some time, only when the house was running smoothly. He would have kissed her feet, apologized profusely for his heavy-handed demands.
  

Now he would gloat. In less than one day at her new task, she needed his help.

Smoothing her hair, she calmed her emotions. She may not like it, but there was no way around it.

Weaving through the house, she didn’t bother to inspect the level of cleanliness. She was on a mission, and she was focused solely on the Earl.

Hiring more servants would not only help her in her task, but it would help his servants as well. And she was certain that he cared about their welfare if not her own.

Yes, that was the way to approach him. Speak with him about the plight of his servants.

With it fixed firmly in her mind, she stepped out of the manor and into the gardens. Approaching the sweatstained group not far from the exit, she heard the Earl give a few last instructions for the gardens. Counting four in all, Victoria wondered who the additional two men were. Mrs. Waversly had only mentioned that the two helped in the gardens.

Trying to look submissive, Victoria waited away from the group until they were finished.

Not wasting time, the Earl approached her, a look of strained patience on his face. “Is there something you need?” he asked abruptly. “I’m a little busy here.”

She took a step in retreat, thrown off by his rudeness. He was the first man to ever speak to her in that way. Well, not the first, she quickly remembered a night not so long ago where the Duke of Wathersby had given her a set down she wouldn’t soon forget. “Yes. I wanted to speak with you about the servants.”

“Can it wait?”

“Actually, no. It can’t.”

“All right. What about the servants?” He leaned against the short gate. Looking ready to stay there all day for her explanation, her hackles rose. He got under her skin. She didn’t know the how or the why of it, he just did. He bothered her more than any man ever had before. In her time in the Ton, Victoria had been able to brush off any unpleasantness, not really caring about the person’s feelings.

But this was different. She couldn’t escape her annoyance that was slowly turning into rage. She would only be able to take his rude arrogance for so long.

“You are understaffed, and your servants are overworked.”

His jaw clenched slightly. “I’m aware that there should be more servants. But that is none of your concern.”

“Forgive me.” She said the polite words, but there was an edge to them. “I was under the impression you wanted me to oversee household matters.”

“Oversee them, not step in and change everything.”

“I see. If you want things to continue on as they are, why did you even ask me to do it at all?”

A half smile curved his lips, but he didn’t look amused. “As I told you before, everyone pulls their weight here. Even debutantes.”

Her eyes narrowed. Did he truly think her some brainless woman, only able to catch a husband with her looks? She had more to offer than that, was capable of much more. He may not want to help her, but as she knew, he cared about his servants. “I understand. You put this task to me and I am trying to accommodate you. However, it isn’t just for my benefit that you need to hire more servants. Your maids are overworked, and it is starting to show.”

“How so?”

“Their dusting is getting sloppy. The kitchen staff is running at a minimum, almost to the point where they can’t work fast enough to feed the household. And those are only two of the things I noticed this morning.”

“What do you suggest?”

It wasn’t the question that threw her off but his sincereity. “At least two more maids, and another full-time kitchen girl. I would also suggest another footman or two.”

“Done.” He gave a firm nod. “Make the arrangements with Mrs. Waversly. Until then, I’m sure you can manage to improvise.”

Victoria felt her jaw drop.

“Was there something else?” he asked, humor winking in his eyes.

“Just like that?” Victoria asked, finally able to regain her balance.

“Yes. Just like that. I’m not unreasonable, Your Grace. You’ve made your point and have shown that there is a need. I want my servants to work at maximum capacity, but I do not expect them to accomplish something that is far beyond the realm of possibility. Two of the maids have recently left, and as for the footmen, I haven’t gotten around to hiring them yet. As you have already seen, there hasn’t been too much of a need for them.”

“Yes. I can see that.” Victoria looked over his dirt-smeared clothes. “Perhaps you might consider having one double as your valet.”

A grin flashed to his face. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to our rustic way of life in no time.” With that final statement, he walked away. Watching a man other than her brother or father leave was something she had never done in her life. It was an odd feeling. She had always been the one to walk away from a conversation.

They were the ones supposed to be left wanting. Not her.

The Earl had the power to unnerve her, and she didn’t like it.

Turning on her heel, she made her way back into the house and to Mrs. Waversly. She had been prepared to battle to get the extra help that was needed, but that hadn’t been necessary. She stopped abruptly, looking up at the house.

The black stones were still in place, but the windows winked in the sunlight, the roses in the nearest flowerbed waved in a slight breeze. It had seemed so imposing, hideous even, with its ebony stones. But not anymore.

In a way it was beautiful. It was striking and unlike any other place she had seen. And the people there seemed happy.
Well, maybe not the Dowager Countess
, she thought, rolling her eyes. But people like that never were.

But what about her son? Had she misjudged him perhaps? He was rough around the edges no doubt, but was he as cruel and dark as she first thought the house to be?

He genuinely cared about those that worked around him. And the servants seemed to have a great respect for him. Perhaps she had just caught him at bad times.

Yes, that seemed reasonable to her. She nodded as she continued on to the house. He was probably just hungry or tired. Any man would behave in such a way. He couldn’t possibly have anything against her, could he?

No
, her confidence sang through her mind as she walked into the manor. Locating Mrs. Waversly, she summoned her for another meeting. They would get more servants today if she was able to do anything about it.

Chapter 4

It was two weeks later that Victoria found herself with no more servants and an even more demanding Countess than she had expected.

“She’s asking for you again, Your Grace,” Molly, the red-haired maid, said before bobbing a curtsy to leave.

“Good Lord.” Victoria looked up and sighed. The Countess had started slowly in her requests, but those small tasks were quickly mounting.

With her other duties, Victoria was beginning to feel like a servant herself. Taking stock of the household, Victoria had found that while the dusting needed to be seen to more frequently, and the linens changed with more regularity, there was no problem with stocking the pantry. The house may be lacking in other areas, but they wouldn’t starve. Victoria said a small prayer of gratitude before rounding the corner into the parlor where the ‘Old Bat,’ as Victoria loved to refer to her, was waiting.

“What can I help you with, my lady?” Victoria asked sweetly, but there was steel underneath.

Not bothering to move away from a small writing desk, Lady Evelyn held out a sealed letter, wrinkles deepening as she narrowed her eyes. “Have Mr. Baton send this out directly.”

Moving forward, Victoria took the letter, glancing at the address in London. Her heart clenched. How she wished she was back there. “I’ll see to it immediately.” Victoria turned, hoping to dash to the door before the woman could issue another command. She wasn’t so lucky.

“There’s something else.” The older woman didn’t raise her voice, but Victoria couldn’t stop herself from wincing.

Sighing, she turned back around. “Yes?”

“There was a stain on one of my gowns. It will need to be sponged.”

“The silver one from last night?”

The woman’s cheeks wobbled a bit as she nodded. “Yes. And I also want you to tell Cook that I didn’t like the way the fish was prepared. Too dry. Tell her never to cook it that way again.”

“I’ll be sure to do so.” Victoria wanted to scream. The fish had been perfect and she doubted there was a spot on the Old Bat’s gown. The Countess just seemed to enjoy making Victoria’s life a living hell.

“Make sure you do.” The woman’s eyes narrowed as if she knew what Victoria had been thinking. At that moment, Victoria wouldn’t have cared had she known. She was getting sick of being a fetch girl, running around, delivering things, making sure Cook got
her majesty’s
special order for dinner.

Lord, it was insufferable.

Quickly delivering the letter into Mr. Baton’s waiting hands, Victoria raced toward the kitchen to deliver the message.

It was only because she was in such a hurry that she didn’t see Molly coming around the corner, hauling a bucket full of washing water.

Unable to stop their collision, Victoria stood still, watching as the bucket slipped from Molly’s fingers. The water, laced with heavy lye, ran into the thick carpets, pooling on the floors. The soap that she had been carrying in the other hand slipped, dropping to the floor before Molly stepped on it.

Horrified, Victoria watched as the housemaid’s feet flew over her head, toppling her to the ground.

Molly cried out after a sickening thump.

 
“Are you all right, Molly?”

The maid whimpered, holding a wrist that was already swelling and turning purple.

“Is it broken?”

Molly flinched, but finally shook her head. “I don’t think so. The bone feels intact.”

“Good. You’ll need to rest. I’ll make sure a doctor is sent for. Until then, you need to stay in bed.” Victoria looked down both directions of the hallway. “Is George close by? I could fetch him to have him carry you.”

“Oh no!” Molly jerked upright before her eyes widened. “I mean, that won’t be necessary, Your Grace. I only injured my wrist. I should be able to walk to my room just fine.”

Victoria looked at her skeptically. “If you’re sure.” The maid nodded emphatically. “All right. Well, I’ll need to fetch someone to mop up the water. We can’t have it sit here or the floors will be ruined.” She eyed the sopping carpets. “The carpets might be done in as it is.”