Chapter 3

“Mrs Harris?” Rebecca called upon seeing the housekeeper.

The housekeeper turned to them, tucking a shining cloth into her apron. Rebecca smiled. The woman reminded her of her benefactor’s housekeeper, Mrs Francis. The woman was never satisfied unless she had personally inspected every area of the house with a cloth.

“How may I help you, Miss Barnes?” said Mrs Harris.

“Do you mind showing us to our rooms?” she asked. “Alice and I would like to settle in. Lady Oakham is asleep in the parlour,” she added. “Please have no one disturb her.”

The housekeeper’s eyes widened slightly. She appeared surprised that the countess had fallen asleep.

“Yes, of course, miss,” Mrs Harris replied. “Please, follow me,” she said, gesturing at the stairs. “I personally saw to the moving of your belongings into your rooms per your instructions. Of course, no one is perfect, but I hope I fulfilled some of your requirements.”

“I’m sure that whatever you have done is perfect, Mrs Harris,” Rebecca assured her as they followed her.

“You must tell me if you require anything else,” Mrs Harris insisted. “The countess wishes your stay at Dorchester Place to be as comfortable as possible.”

“I’m sure it will be,” said Rebecca, admiring the intricate details on the balustrade. “I must say that this house is beautiful. I noticed that part of the house was likely built during the Tudor reign, but the rest is more the current style.”

“The estate was purchased from a gentleman in the late 1600s,” the housekeeper explained. “Then, it was just the faerie tale-like part that you saw. The third Duke of Dorset wanted to buy it for his wife because she fell in love with it. Over time, various dukes have added to it, but there is a rule that all subsequent dukes must abide by—no one changes the original house. The third duke was adamant about that.”

Rebecca smiled. “His love for his wife lives on,” she said. “How sweet. I love to hear stories of ever-lasting love.”

“The third duke and his wife’s story is recorded in one of the books in the library,” Mrs Harris revealed. “One of the dukes—an avid writer, by many accounts—saw fit to immortalize their story. He might have added a few embellishments, but the original story remains its centre.”

“I’d love to read it one day,” Rebecca said sincerely. “Of course, I will have to get permission from Lady Oakham. One’s library can be as personal as their bedchamber.”

“It would be best to ask the duke,” the housekeeper told her. “The library is his domain. Although I am certain he will not mind.”

Rebecca detected uncertainty in the woman’s voice. So far, she had learned that the duke had an insatiable need for work and might be unwilling to share his personal spaces with others, which was understandable.

“This is it,” said Mrs Harris, stopping before a door.

They were on the second floor and in the west wing of the house. That suited Rebecca well because she loved watching sunsets from her room. She was always outside with a cup of tea during the sunrise, so having an eastward-facing room wouldn’t have been as pleasurable as a westward one.

The housekeeper opened the door, stepping inside with a hint of anxiety in her expression. It seemed Rebecca’s comfort truly was of utmost importance. Looking around the room, she was glad for its spaciousness as she liked to stretch the moment she rolled out of bed.

Doing so made her body limber and light, ensuring flexibility throughout the day. She had convinced Alice to do it with her every morning, although she often grumbled through it. Still, Alice had to admit that she felt better for it.

“I love these large windows, Mrs Harris,” she said, although she found the curtains a tad heavy and oppressive. “And two bay windows! I feel decidedly spoiled!”

Mrs Harris smiled. “I’m glad your room is to your liking, Miss Barnes. Shall we look at Miss Ayres’ room? It’s right through this door.”

Rebecca wasn’t done admiring her room, but the housekeeper seemed anxious to show her the rest of what she requested.

“Yes, please show us,” Rebecca replied.

Mrs Harris opened the adjoining door, revealing a slightly smaller but pretty room. This one also had a bay window and even a small bookshelf beside it, with a few books already occupying its space.

“What do you think, Alice?” Rebecca asked, turning to her friend. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“It will do,” said Alice, pursing her lips.

Rebecca sighed. Alice was never impressed by anything and didn’t mind letting people see it written all over her face.

“I’m, I’m glad,” Mrs Harris faltered, uncertainty clouding her eyes. “Shall I show you your work room? It’s down the hall from here.”

“I’d love to see it,” Rebecca told her, putting more cheer in her voice to put the housekeeper at ease. “I’m anxious to get my hands on my work.”

“We added more shelves to your room and attached hooks to the beams so you can hang whatever is necessary,” said the housekeeper, leaving the room. “It’s at the end of the hallway and has a balcony with a table and chairs, should you need them.”

“That all sounds lovely, Mrs Harris,” said Rebecca sincerely. “It really does. I’m excited to see the room.”

The housekeeper nodded as they walked further into the west wing until they reached the last door on their right.

“This is it,” she said, pushing the door open.

Rebecca stepped inside after her, grimacing slightly at the disorganized space. Everything had been grouped incorrectly. However, it was easily remedied, so she didn’t mind too much. Instead, she focused on what was good about the room.

“It’s spacious and has plenty of windows to allow for fresh air, but I’m concerned about one thing,” she said, looking around. “I do not see a space to store items that need a dry and dark space.”

Mrs Harris walked to a door and opened it. “The windows in this room have been temporarily boarded to provide the dry and dark space you need. Will this be suitable?”

Rebecca poked her head around the room, smiling. “This is perfect. You have done well, Mrs Harris,” she said, complimenting the housekeeper. “Thank you.”

“I’m so pleased,” said Mrs Harris, smiling. “I—” She abruptly stopped speaking when they heard a baby’s wail. Her shoulders dipped as she sighed. “Poor little one. He sounds frustrated.”

The housekeeper said it as though it was an everyday occurrence for a four-month-old to cry that loudly and sound so distressed. Something was undoubtedly wrong. Rebecca found herself leaving her workroom and heading towards the noise.

“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Barnes?” Mrs Harris asked, following her downstairs.

“I need to see what’s wrong with the baby,” Rebecca explained, swiftly making her way to the baby. “His cry is unsettling.”

“He’s likely hungry,” Mrs Harris explained. “I’m certain the wet nurse will eventually calm him down. I’m afraid he’s often like this.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened as she came to an abrupt stop. “Often?”

Mrs Harris almost toppled over if not for Rebecca quickly steadying her. Alice had wisely kept to the side, knowing how Rebecca’s mind worked. She became single-minded when something was wrong, especially when it concerned the vulnerable. Those in her way didn’t tend to fare well.

Mrs Harris cleared her throat, straightening her apron. “His lordship is often like this before he eventually calms down,” she explained.

“How long does he take to calm down?” Rebecca asked.

“I cannot be sure, miss,” the housekeeper said, sounding worried. She seemed to understand that Rebecca did not like what she was hearing. “The nanny or wet nurse will be able to answer your questions. They spend the most time with him.”

Rebecca nodded, continuing downstairs. “Is he in the kitchen?” she asked. “You’ll have to direct me. I am not familiar with the house yet.”

“Yes, he likely is in the kitchen,” the housekeeper confirmed. “It’s best for him since the weather has cooled significantly. Please, allow me to take the lead.”

Rebecca stepped aside, letting the housekeeper pass and show the way. The house was large and beautiful, but she could hardly admire the interior because she was concerned about the crying baby. Experience had taught her that babies’ cries sounded different according to their needs. Whether hunger, fatigue, or discomfort, each problem carried a specific cry. What she was hearing was a terrifying mixture of cries. The baby sounded like he was in pain.

Moments later, they entered the kitchen, where a wet nurse was attempting to feed the little marquess. The baby kept crying, refusing the breast the young woman was trying to feed him. The little cough-cry with the slight warble was heart-wrenching, only making the wet nurse more frazzled and near tears. Neither of them was in any condition to be together.

The wet nurse looked at the frustrated woman standing beside her, shaking her head. “I do not know what is wrong with him, Nanny Bates.”

“Did you clean your feeding area beforehand, Betty?” Nanny Bates asked, frowning. “Are you feeding him from the correct breast?”

“Yes, I have done everything,” Betty replied. “Perhaps he is wet.”

Nanny Bates shook her head. “He is warm and clean,” she said. “He’s crying because he’s hungry but won’t take from you. What else are we supposed to do? The duke is bound to hear him crying! Then it will be both our heads.”

“B-but we’re in the kitchen,” said Betty. “It’s the furthest from his study.”

“And what if he leaves his study?” Nanny Bates asked.

The women didn’t seem to realize that others had entered the kitchen. They were too immersed in their current predicament. Rebecca was somewhat annoyed with them. They appeared more concerned about the duke scolding them than the child itself.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping forward and gaining their attention. They appeared surprised, looking at her from head to toe. “I’m Rebecca Barnes, the nursemaid. May I take a look at his lordship?”

They looked from her to Mrs Harris, who nodded. “Give her his lordship,” she said. “Lady Oakham hired Miss Barnes to help her with the baby.”

The women’s eyes widened. They were probably worried Rebecca would take over their positions.

“I look forward to working with you,” Rebecca said, approaching the wet nurse. “May I?”

“Oh, oh, yes, of course,” she said, tucking her breast in and handing the fussing baby to her.

Rebecca took him, alarmed by how light he felt. “What a little sweet one you are,” she said soothingly, her voice high and soft.

The baby’s cries had turned into whimpers, likely tired of the loud cries he had emitted earlier. The whimpers were no less potent, tugging at her heartstrings. Rebecca was concerned about his health, noticing the unhealthy pallor under the angry redness of his cheeks.

He was only four months old, for heaven’s sake! If he worsened anymore, death would follow swiftly. She fought to keep her anger down and show more understanding, but it was challenging. Mother and baby were struggling, and there was only so much the wet nurse and nanny could do.

“Would you squeeze a little milk into a cup, please, Betty?” she asked, rocking the baby in her arms. “Make sure to clean the cup with hot water first.”

The wet nurse nodded, quickly getting to her feet to do her bidding. Rebecca looked at Alice, gesturing at the closest table. Alice understood, clearing a space. Putting the baby down, Rebecca uncovered him, tears springing to her eyes. He wasn’t emaciated, but he was still too thin. She wasn’t an advocate of overly chubby babies because it hindered their movement, but some fat was essential.

“He’ll be fine now that you’re here, Becky,” Alice whispered reassuringly.

Rebecca nodded wordlessly, examining the baby further. His eating times would have to be increased until she was happy with his weight and adjusted to maintain his monthly growth. He started fussing again, thrashing his tiny arms and legs.

“I know what you need,” she said, gripping the edges of his blanket. She swaddled him firmly, stopping any further movement. Tommy put up a fight at first, but eventually, he realized it was comforting. Rebecca saw the change come over his face, chuckling at the frown he made.

“He feels safe and is trying to understand why,” she said, handing him to Alice. “Hold him while I wash my hands.”

Alice took him, rocking him gently as she waited for Rebecca. “Does he ever smile?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at his angry expression.

“Rarely,” Nanny Bates replied. “Although honestly, I do not know if I have witnessed a smile. He usually grimaces at everyone. Sometimes, you think he’s smiling, but he’s only passing air.”

“Let’s see if we can get a smile out of him today,” said Rebecca, returning with the cup of milk from the nursemaid. She took a seat, holding out her arms. “Give him here, Alice.”

Alice gently placed Tommy in her arms, giving him a little affectionate tap on his button nose. He frowned at the movement, making Rebecca chuckle.

“You get angry at everyone, don’t you?” she said, adjusting him in his arms. “You’re just sad and do not know how to talk yet. Isn’t that right, little one?”

She dipped a knuckle in the milk and brought it to his lips, brushing the liquid back and forth. Tommy clenched his lips, but that didn’t deter Rebecca. She dipped her knuckle again, repeating the motion. She did it three more times, waiting for him to open his lips. She smiled when he finally did, immediately applying the milk to his gums until he latched on to her knuckle.

“Finally admitting that you’re hungry, hmm?” she said, gently bouncing him on her legs. “Be a dear, and do not give Betty so much trouble. It doesn’t do you any good, and she’s just trying to do her job. You also need to get big and strong for your mama.”

Perhaps he didn’t understand her words, but he certainly picked up on the soft but firm tone in her voice. He mewled at her, the sound coming across as an objection.

She laughed. “Arguing back already? How cheeky of you. Here, have a little more milk.”

When he latched on hungrily, she knew it was time to hand him to the wet nurse. She called the young woman to her, making her sit on the bench against the wall with a stool under her feet for added comfort. Tommy immediately started drinking from Betty’s breast.

Betty’s eyes widened, looking at the little marquess. “He has never drunk from me so voraciously before,” she said in wonder. “What did you do?” she asked, looking up at Rebecca.

“Miss Barnes is a natural with children,” Alice answered. “You cannot question it, only accept it. Some people have even called her a baby soother.”

“Baby soother?” said Nanny Bates. “Well, if you can get his lordship to smile, I’ll call you a goddess!”

Rebecca smiled. “That will not be necessary, although I wouldn’t mind being worshipped,” she said, tongue in cheek. “Now, who do I have to charm to get a cup of tea? We all need one after this ordeal.”

Some chuckled and returned to their duties while Mrs Harris and Nanny Bates took a seat, looking exhausted.

“Tea, please, Cookie,” said Mrs Harris. “You can use from my ration.”

Cook nodded, ordering one of the kitchen maids to put water on the stove. Rebecca sat beside Mrs Harris, indicating that Alice should also sit. Alice would have preferred to go to their rooms and settle in, but Rebecca wanted her to get acquainted with the servants. Her friend wasn’t the sort to familiarize herself with others.

It stemmed from her terrible childhood when her family ill-treated her, and later in life, they abandoned her when she fell ill. Rebecca found her on her deathbed, immediately taking her in to nurse her back to health. Alice became her shadow from the moment she was well enough to work, dedicating her life to Rebecca as thanks. Rebecca tried to convince her to live her life for herself, but her friend was stubborn.

“So, what should I know about Dorchester Place?” Rebecca asked, clasping her hands on the table. “I wouldn’t want to offend or upset anyone.”

She wanted to know more about how the house was run and what she could glean about the family without being too obvious. Servants loved to gossip, but they didn’t like to seem like gossiping to outsiders. Rebecca and Alice would remain outsiders until everyone felt comfortable around them.

Mrs Harris answered most of Rebecca’s questions while the other servants put in a word or two. By the time Tommy had finished drinking and was full, Rebecca had figured out the daily running of the house. Any extra information would have to come later because she wanted to burp the baby.

“I’ll take him from you,” said Rebecca to the wet nurse. “Do you have a cloth I can place over my shoulder? He’s likely to spit out curdled milk from the amount he drank.”

“Yes, of course,” said Betty, handing her a small bath sheet.

“Thank you,” Rebecca replied. She patted the baby, holding him upward against her chest. “How calm you are now that you’re full. You feel a little heavier, too.” She turned to Mrs Harris. “Do you mind showing me to the nursery? I’d also like warm water sent to the room for his bath.”

“Yes, of course,” the housekeeper said, standing up. “Nanny Bates, I trust you to organize his lordship’s bathwater.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the nanny agreed.

“Please, this way,” said Mrs Harris, looking at Rebecca as she gestured to the door. “The nursery is in the north part of the house.”

Rebecca frowned. “That is rather far from my room,” she commented.

Mrs Harris smiled apologetically. “It’s the furthest from the duke’s rooms in the south wing,” she explained. “We like to avoid unnecessary noises as he is a busy man and needs peace and quiet.”

It seemed that everyone walked on eggshells around the duke. It was an interesting bit of knowledge that she stored away to rethink later.

“Is there enough room in his lordship’s nursery?” Rebecca asked, still patting the baby’s back. “I might need to spend nights with him. I’ll need space for my bedding.”

“The nursery is spacious,” Mrs Harris assured. “There is plenty of space to include another bed should you need it.”

“Wonderful.” Tommy let out a big wind, spewing the curdled milk she had mentioned earlier. “Goodness!” she exclaimed, laughing. “What a big one that was! You’re such a big boy, aren’t you?”

The baby squealed and cooed, prompting her to hold him away from her to see his expression. He was smiling!

“Well, I’ll be,” cried Mrs Harris. “His lordship is smiling!”

“And what a lovely one it is,” said Rebecca, kissing his cheeks. “What a handsome fellow you are. Oh, yes, you are!”

She held him to her chest as he cooed, relieved he was now in happier spirits. The change was astounding but also indicative of his desperation for someone to be patient and understand him. Babies were sensitive to emotions, so he had likely picked up on the fear, despair, and frustration in the house. It didn’t make it easier that his mother was struggling so much.

They stopped at the top of the stairs when Mrs Harris grew suddenly still. Rebecca looked at her, following the woman’s eyes to see what had caused the abrupt change. A tall, dark-haired man was striding towards them, his piercing blue eyes staring at her.

Her belly fluttered and clenched at his gaze, startling her. She couldn’t recall having such sensations before. They were foreign and unsettling but also warming. Heat had pooled in her lower belly, bringing unwanted warmth to her cheeks.

“Your Grace!” Mrs Harris cried, curtsying before him. “I hope we didn’t disturb you.”

So, he was the duke. She should have known from the power that emanated from him. No one except a man in power could walk around with that amount of danger and control and have it suit him. The man was certainly handsome—she’d give him that. However, she didn’t like his cold manner. Despite this, she felt herself being affected by the powerful aura he exuded. This man didn’t hear the word ‘no’ much, if ever.

“Who are they?” he asked the housekeeper.

He could have just asked Rebecca directly! She briefly frowned at him, looking down at Tommy when he cooed. She smiled, nuzzling his cheek as she loosened the blanket around him.

“This is Miss Barnes and Miss Ayres,” Mrs Harris replied.

“I see,” the duke said, almost barking. “When did they arrive? Why wasn’t I notified of their arrival?”

Rebecca secretly rolled her eyes. He was as rude as could be. It was obvious no one liked to bother him, yet he couldn’t understand that. That was what she disliked about those in power. They enjoyed wielding it but didn’t know how to serve with it. It was all about instilling fear into the hearts of others to ensure their obedience. Well, she wasn’t going to be scared into submission.

She peered at him from under her lashes, feeling her belly flutter once again. She frowned at the sensation, freeing Tommy’s hand from the blanket and giving him her finger to grasp. He was rather strong—a good sign. As she adjusted him until his belly lay on her arm, allowing him to comfortably look at the world around him, a startling realization occurred. She was attracted to the duke!

That was what the feelings were. She had heard enough about the feeling and had read about it in books to know what attraction was. It left her appalled. This was her employer’s brother! She had no business feeling that way. In all Rebecca’s years, she couldn’t recall having such an immediate response to any man. It was unheard of.

She inwardly shook her head, disappointed with herself. She was no better than the other women who fawned over handsome men. His being a duke made it even worse. He likely had countless admirers and was undoubtedly accustomed to it.

Rebecca felt a nudging on her arm, prompting her to turn to her friend. She raised her eyes in question, frowning when Alice used her eyes to gesture at the duke. Rebecca glanced at him, finding him looking at her once again. He appeared irritated, his brow heavy with a frown. She felt like telling him that his forehead would stay like that if he kept that up, but she wisely remained silent. He probably would look handsome with forehead wrinkles anyway.

“Do you usually not pay attention when spoken to, Miss Barnes?” the duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, so he had been talking to her. Rebecca had missed that entirely. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” she apologized. “My focus was on the baby.”

The duke’s lips pursed. “I’d like to speak to you in my study,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

Assuming he likely wanted to know a little more about the women staying under his roof, she agreed, understanding his concerns. Dorchester Place was his home, after all. Still, that didn’t mean she liked his manner.

“Of course, Your Grace,” she said, handing the baby to Alice. “Please oversee his bathwater. I’ll massage him with the oil I brought today.”

Alice nodded, mimicking the way Rebecca had held him. Tickling the baby’s cheek affectionately and earning herself a gummy smile, Rebecca turned to the duke, her expression now serious.

“Please, lead the way, Your Grace,” she said, gesturing with her hand.

The duke’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded, turning on his heel. He didn’t bother saying anything. Rebecca rolled her eyes, feeling their interaction likely wouldn’t go well. They had already got off on the wrong foot. It would have been easier to deal with his abrasiveness if her silly body hadn’t decided to grow attracted to him.