Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Ann

L ady Honoria Chervil sweeps into the study in a pink day dress and with a warm smile. "This is a fine house. Why is there no butler?"

"That is one of many good questions." I'm always filled with warmth when Lady Honoria is present. She's what the Evertons call a dowager. She never takes on assignments for herself, but she chaperons and is a great source of wisdom.

"Lady Jane told me that his lordship has left the residence." She sits on the chair near the hearth. "This is a cozy room."

I suppose it is. "His lordship is a moody sort. He's gone to stay at his club. At least, that's what the note he sent this morning said. I have written to the pensioned butler and housekeeper who preceded those who abandoned the house. It seems they are a married couple who the earl pensioned ten months ago. The recently hired steward replaced them for his scheme. The three thieves left together about a month ago with one of the maids. The earl wishes our discretion concerning the funds removed from the estate's accounts."

Shaking her head, Honoria sighs. "Proud man."

"Indeed." It's been a full day since I've seen Oscar Stafford, but my attraction for him hasn't waned any more than my rage toward him. It's a mystery to me how those two things can exist within me regarding the same person. "With Lady Jane's help, I have lined up a few interviews this afternoon. We must find two footmen, a downstairs maid, and a lady's maid for Miss Bartholomew."

"That is quite a lot to accomplish, but we can manage." Honoria is always optimistic. It's one of the things I love about her.

Carriage wheels sound out front.

I rise to answer the door, but as I arrive in the foyer, the door swings open. A gray-haired man dressed impeccably as a butler with a black coat and perfectly tied cravat steps in and narrows his gaze at the house. When he looks at me, he asks, "Are you Miss Wittman?"

Closing the distance, I curtsy. "Miss Ann Wittman."

He bows. "Theodore Jenkin. You may call me Jenkin." He turns and takes the hand of a woman in a dark-blue day dress. "This is my wife, Pamela Jenkin. We are the former butler and housekeeper of this house. Your note was unexpected, Miss Wittman."

"That is an understatement." Mrs. Jenkin steps forward. "Has his lordship reconsidered pensioning us?"

I'm unable to discern if Mrs. Jenkin is joking. "His lordship is in need of your help as the staff who replaced you were inadequate and hence are no longer here." It's not exactly the entire truth, but not false either.

A wide grin pulls at Mrs. Jenkin's lips forcing her full cheeks to plump .

Mr. Jenkin frowns. "And are we to be compensated or is our pension meant to be our salary? For how long does his lordship intend to keep us on?" His heavy gray-and-black eyebrows pull together. "Who says that we want to go back to work? We don't owe the Earl of Kendall anything."

"No indeed." His wife fists her hands, then crosses them over her chest. "Tossed us out with only a day's notice. We've had to go and live with my sister. Imagine that after all our years of service."

It is an appalling way to have treated people in his employ. "If you will come into the study and sit down. I'll have tea brought up, and we can discuss the entire situation and your compensation going forward."

Mrs. Jenkin grins. "I like the sound of that. A far cry more polite than that Belliston chap who sent us packing."

Lady Chervil says, "You will find that when an Everton Lady is in the house, things become much more civilized. I am Lady Honoria Chervil and will be assisting Miss Wittman and Miss Bartholomew for the season."

We make our way as a group into the study. I pull the bell for tea, then sit in one of the chairs around the low table. "Please have a seat."

"Miss Bartholomew? Isn't that his lordship's niece?" Jenkin waits for all three ladies to sit before he does so with his back perfectly straight and his eyes narrowed on me.

"I haven't seen her since she was a child. What is she doing here?" Mrs. Jenkin's expression has softened since entering the house.

Unsure how much to explain, I say, "His lordship is sponsoring Louisa for her first season. I will assist in finding her a suitable match. I will also be helping with his three estates. The former steward left them in a bit of a mess and took with him the butler and housekeeper he'd hired, along with the downstairs maid."

"Erma? I never trusted that girl." Mrs. Jenkin huffs and grips the arm of the settee until her knuckles are white.

I feel the tide is turning in my favor. "As you can imagine, the remaining staff were without guidance and when I arrived, the dust was thick, making the home unlivable. I've given what instruction I can and the cleaning has been done, but we are woefully understaffed and I am neither a housekeeper nor a butler."

They both nod with serious expressions tugging their mouths into straight lines. Jenkin's chest puffs out and his shoulders go back farther.

"I was hoping you both might come back to work. I've been authorized to offer you a twenty percent increase in your salaries and when you are ready to retire, the pensions will be far more fitting to your station." I lower my eyes to the rust and beige rug and wait.

Jenkin huffs a big growly sound.

Mrs. Jenkin says, "For what we have been put through, Oscar Stafford can make it twenty-five percent and no tossing us out without proper notice." She points her finger at me.

Smiling on the inside, I give them each a serious look. "I can agree to twenty-five percent and no one will be tossing you anywhere. I have his lordship's word that you will be able to work here until you are ready to leave, and at that time, the estate will take far better care of you."

They look at each other and some silent agreement is made before Mr. Jenkin stands and offers his hand. "We accept. We can come back tomorrow with our things and be ready to get to work."

Practically jumping for joy, I leap up and shake his hand. "I'm so pleased. I will have the Kendall carriage drive you back and it will return for you in the morning. No need to hire another hack."

"Everton Domestic Society, you say." The butler gives me a long look.

"Yes, Jenkin. We are ladies who have chosen honest work in the service of others, though our employment is generally for the short term. Once I've sorted out the books and houses, I'll hire a reputable steward and move on to another assignment." I have no idea why that should create an ache in my chest. I should be happy with the idea of not seeing Oscar again. His behavior is erratic and socially inappropriate. Still, there were moments when he looked at me and my heart pounded in a way that was different than the effect anyone else has ever had.

I brush that silliness aside and see the Jenkins to the door.

Closing it behind them, I lean on the inside.

Honoria grins at me. "I'm surprised they didn't ask after the earl."

"He prefers the house in Scotland. I think they rarely saw him."

"A shame he's so difficult, but I know you'll sort him, his niece, and his estates out. You're the finest of all the Everton Ladies." Honoria sways and climbs the steps. It's as if there is music only she hears.

I think she exaggerates. I'm just the only one who continues on at Everton. Many ladies come for a season or two and find husbands, or return home. For me, Everton House is home. So why does that make me sad?

I 've moved my work to the small lady's desk near the bookshelves. It's the opposite side of the study which is at least thirty feet long and fifteen feet wide. This way I can leave notes on papers that I need Oscar to sign or read over, but he and I are not sharing the same space.

It's been a week since he moved out.

The household has accepted its first invitation to a ball tomorrow night. I feel more nervous than Louisa.

"That was my mother's desk. I offered to give it to her when she moved to the dower house, but she declined, saying that she wanted new things for her new start." Oscar stands in the doorway to the study with his hands behind his back.

I rise and curtsy.

He bows. His expression looks pained, with creases at the outer corners of his eyes and his lips pulled into a frown. He's in evening clothes, but nothing fancy, just a black evening suit and a white shirt with a cravat.

"I was not expecting to see you until tomorrow, my lord." I'm gripping the edge of the desk as if it's holding me across the room.

Stepping inside, he leans on the back of his desk. "I apologize. I should have sent a note. It seems the valet, Bolton, who you sent to me needs access to my full wardrobe if I'm to be presentable at a ball. I came along to make sure that you have everything you need."

"Yes. We are fine. I'm glad Bolton is working out. He came highly recommended. I've also hired a new maid and lady's maid for Louisa." My voice sounds tentative. I don't like it. I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin to bolster my courage.

He smiles. "I saw Jenkin when I entered. He gave me a piece of his mind."

I'm about to defend the butler, but Oscar holds up a hand to stop me. "He has every right to be cross with me. It was kind of him and Mrs. Jenkin to return."

"At a twenty-five percent increase to their wage." I can't help liking that they bargained for more money.

"I'm sure they were woefully underpaid and deserved the increase." He stares at his highly polished shoes before looking at me. "Does Louisa have what she needs for the ball?"

"Yes. Your sister sent her trunk. She has a very fine selection of gowns for the season." I have so many questions to discern his character, but I keep them to myself.

"And you?" His green eyes cut through me as if he can see into my soul.

Swallowing down the effects, a nervous giggle tries to escapes. I quash it. "What about me?"

"Do you have everything you need to attend a ball?" His voice is soft, warm, and filled with warning.

Those bells ring in my ears. "I will be appropriately dressed for my position, my lord."

He straightens and clears his throat. "Of course."

"May I ask you something?" I release the desk and step closer.

He nods, his gaze boring through me.

"If you knew your staff was underpaid, why did you do nothing to correct the situation?" One of the many questions floating in my mind.

Turning, he walks to the threshold and stops. I think he's going to ignore my question when he turns back and locks his gaze with mine. "That would have required leaving my comfortable hiding place and rejoining my life, Miss Wittman. I don't generally like to do that. I should have been born a simple farmer or a man of science, but fate is cruel and made me an earl. "

"Perhaps Mr. Bellston did you a favor." I wish I could take it back the moment I've said it.

"You think I deserved to be cheated and for my estates to go neglected?" There's an edge to his voice that is at once intriguing and frightening.

Closing the gap between us, it feels as if my shoes are filled with stones. "No. Not that. Nor do I think your staff deserved their treatment. However, his actions did get you to leave Scotland and join your life, even if it was unwillingly."

Those beautiful green eyes darken and he lowers his gaze. "You have seen my disposition, Ann. Do you really think society has any place for me?"

Before I can formulate a response, he walks out and a moment later, the front door closes.

My problem is that I do think he has a place in society. I just can't figure out why I think so or what that place is.