Finding Hope (Mail Order Bride: Brides And Promises Book 1) Page 13

  Esther, on the other hand, had struggled with tiredness and her quiet demeanor. It had been a challenge to get all of the maids to respect her given her youth, but after the threat of dismissal, they all came around. She worked hard from before dawn until the late evening, sometimes even into the early hours of the morning. It was hard work, but not once did she regret her decision. She hoped she would grow hardier as she worked and that the weariness she felt would not always be so all-consuming.

  * * *

  “Duke!”

  “Heber? Come in!” Amos grinned at his friend entering his study. “A little early in the day for you, isn’t it?”

  Bernard scowled, “At my mother’s insistence, I have become reformed. Rising before noon, even!” He let out a long, painful sigh. “Apparently, I am to find a wife.”

  “Ah, back to her old schemes, is she?”

  “It is the time of year,” Bernard acknowledged. “Mother always wishes for me to find a bride come the start of every summer. Although, she has begun a little late this year.”

  Amos chuckled, seeing the morose face of his friend. “Surely, Heber, it cannot be that bad. There must be some lady who catches your eye.”

  “They are all too young for a bachelor of my age,” he sighed. “I am well over thirty, and the youngest ladies are but seventeen. Just out of the schoolroom, by my estimation. That has not dissuaded my mother, of course.”

  Amos replied, "Come now, many marriages with significant age differences take place. Consider your own parents."

  “I have,” Bernard replied quickly. “That is precisely why I will not do it. My father died an old man, leaving my mother alone and in perfect health. I should not like to do that to my own bride.”

  “How romantic,” Amos quipped drolly. “I know. I shall host a dinner party here on Friday. I will invite a number of eligible ladies—not all newly out, I assure you—and you can see if anyone sparkles enough to capture your interest.”

  “Very well,” Bernard replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It may put mother off haranguing me for a while.”

  “I shall invite her as well,” Amos replied. “I will have to speak to the housekeeper to ensure she has adequate time to prepare." He pulled the bell.

  “Have you heard the latest?” Bernard asked, changing the subject entirely. “It appears that Lord Bertram’s daughter has gone missing.”

  “Missing?” Amos echoed, searching through his desk for a piece of paper with which he could begin to scribble a guest list. “When?”

  “Only recently, it appears,” Bernard continued, nonchalantly. “There is no suggestion that she has run off with someone for, by all accounts, she was to marry Lord Thompson.”

  Amos’s mouth fell open. “Lord Thompson? The man is practically as old as her father, surely? I have never met the lady, but I do know her father.”

  Bernard shrugged. “I don’t believe it was a love match by any means.”

  “It does not sound like it!” Amos interjected, wondering how a man could do such a thing to his daughter. “That man is vile; it is no wonder she has run away.”

  "You believe she has run away from home then?"

  A knock on the door interrupted Bernard, and Amos called to allow the housekeeper entry before turning his attention back to Bernard.

  “Of course! Any woman would run away from such a prospect. Lord Thompson, indeed!”

  A sudden gasp interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see his housekeeper's face drained of color.

  “Mrs. Edwards! Are you quite all right?”

  Esther struggled to regain her composure, hiding her shaking hands in the folds of her skirts. “Quite, Your Grace. It was just the mention of Lord Thompson that quite startled me.”

  “An old employer, I imagine,” Bernard said, not looking at the woman. “Quite a brute, by all respects.”

  Not knowing what to say, Esther simply nodded.

  “This is Lord Heber, Mrs. Edwards,” Amos interrupted. “You shall see him often, but he needs no special treatment. He has practically taken up residence here.” He winked, and Esther struggled not to blush.

  “Regardless, Duke,” Bernard continued, ignoring Amos’s well-placed jibe, “The lady is missing, and her father is apparently desperate for her return.”

  “I can only imagine why,” Amos said, dryly. “A daughter running from an arranged marriage must be a stain on any gentleman’s reputation. Not under her father’s thumb, I assume?”

  “Certainly not, by all appearances,” Bernard replied. “Although if what you say about Lord Thompson is true, I can only applaud her for escaping such a dreaded prospect.”

  There was silence for a moment, with Amos struggling to remember why he had summoned the housekeeper. Her appearance was plain, as was required of a housekeeper, but her green eyes captured his interest once again. Despite himself, Amos found himself musing on how long her blonde hair would be.

  “You are quite young to be a housekeeper,” Bernard said loudly, deliberately breaking the silence.

  "Yes, my Lord," Esther replied, remembering not to look him directly in the face. "My talents at organizing and running the household became apparent at a young age."

  “Well spoken, too,” Bernard murmured, sweeping his gaze down her slim figure and away from her face. Amos found himself irritated by Bernard’s perusal, clearing his throat to regain control of the situation as well as recapture his friend’s attention.

  “Mrs. Edwards, may I first commend you on how well you have stepped into the role. My house is back in order again, and I feel quite at peace.” He smiled at her, noting with interest the slight pink tinge to her cheeks. “The maids have kept away from me also, which I am sure is your doing. You have done an outstanding job thus far.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Esther murmured, keeping her eyes lowered deferentially.

  “Now, pay close attention, Mrs. Edwards. I wish to have a dinner party next Friday evening.” He continued, “I shall be sending out invitations today. I expect to have ten guests, plus myself and Bernard.

  “And my mother,” Bernard interrupted.

  “And Lady Heber,” Amos grinned. “So, that should be thirteen.”

  Bernard let out a mock gasp of horror. “You cannot have thirteen, Amos! It is unlucky to have that number of guests!”

  Amos raised his eyebrows, saying nothing.

  "You must tell him, Mrs. Edwards," Bernard implored, raising his eyes heavenwards. "Tell him he cannot have such a terribly unlucky number of guests! I have heard that there has been a tragedy at every single dinner party that hosted such a number!"

  Despite her stomach churning over the mention of Lord Thompson and of her father, Esther tried to hide her smile, keeping her tone serious as she agreed with Bernard.

  “Lord Heber is quite right, Your Grace,” she said, quietly. “You must, of course, have fourteen guests or reduce your number to twelve.”

  “Very well,” Amos huffed, rolling his eyes. “I am sure I can think of another guest.”

  "I know," Bernard replied eagerly, sitting upright in his chair. "You must invite Lord Bertram! He is the most spoken about man within society at the moment, and it would certainly liven up your dinner."

  “We shall find out the truth about this missing daughter of his,” Amos mused, liking the idea. “A perfect idea, Heber. Well done! We shall invite Lord Bertram.”

  Neither of them noticed the housekeeper’s pallor, Amos only nodding his permission to her whispered request to leave his presence. Nor did they notice the way her trembling hands struggled to open the door. Tears began to make their way down her face.

  6

  Esther leaned against the wall, breathing hard. She felt dizzy, as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Hearing the Duke and Lord Heber talk so openly about her father and Lord Thompson made her sick with fear. Her father was obviously looking for her, although she had hoped that he would have kept her disappearance quiet initi
ally. Clearly, that was not the case.

  Wiping her forehead with a shaking hand, she began to make her way back below the stairs, holding onto the wall for support. She now had to prepare the house for a dinner party, all the while knowing that her father would be amongst the guests. Breathing a little more slowly, she convinced herself that it would all be well. The housekeeper was never seen above stairs during such things, so there was no reason for her father to catch even a glimpse of her. Besides, her godmother would be there. She smiled a little wanly. Agnes had been right. Lord Heber had not even looked at her twice; there had not been even a flicker of recognition. The man was too wrapped up in his own affairs.

  Glancing at the clock, she decided she would have a cup of tea. There was time enough for that, and it would give her the space she needed to fully regain her composure. Then she would speak to cook, maids and footmen. There was a lot to organize.

  * * *

  “So, that is your new housekeeper, Duke?”

  “Hmmm?” Amos scribbled another name onto his invitation list. “Oh, yes. She is doing quite well so far. The other servants respect her, and everything is running smoothly. It is quite remarkable!”

  “She is not as old as I had expected. Nor as plain of face.”

  Amos looked up, seeing his friend’s raised eyebrow. “It is not my fault, if that is what you are implying,” he replied, a little hotly. “Your mother found her and brought her to me. I could hardly refuse your mother’s recommendation, particularly considering the state of my household without a housekeeper.”

  “Fair enough,” Bernard conceded. "But I do hope you have no intention of practicing your flirtations with her, Duke. The woman looked as though she would die from embarrassment when you winked, the poor thing." He grinned as Amos flushed a little. "I did see that you know."

  “No, I do not have any intention to do such a thing,” Amos replied, firmly. "I have already told you, Heber, that my staff is perfectly clear on my standards. Besides, I am not in the least bit attracted to the woman." Amos tried to sound convincing as he lied to his friend, knowing in his heart that he found his housekeeper a remarkably handsome woman.

  Bernard nodded. “Good, good. Glad to hear it.” He kept his eyebrow raised, however, as Amos bent over his books once more. He was not convinced in the least.

  * * *

  “Mother?” Bernard found his mother sitting in the drawing room, reading. She looked up from her book with a smile.

  “Bernard! How are you, my dear boy?”

  "Very well, Mother, thank you. Here, I have traveled many a mile to hand you this invitation.” He produced it with a flourish and handed it to his mother.

  “Indeed, how very kind,” Agnes replied, smiling. “What is it for?”

  “The Duke is hosting a dinner party next Friday evening,” Bernard replied, pouring himself a glass of port. “There will be many eligible young ladies there, Mother. And, before you ask, I shall keep my eyes open.”

  After her failed attempts to look offended, Agnes grinned. “Excellent, Bernard. I am glad to hear it. I shall be delighted to attend.”

  “You need not look so gleeful, Mother,” Bernard replied, reproachfully. “I know what is on your mind.”

  Agnes tried—and failed—to look contrite. “I must confess I look forward to the day when you are a married man,” she said, a little dreamily. “That I might one day be a grandmother…”

  “Yes, yes,” Bernard interrupted, hastily. “I say, Mother, I heard that your goddaughter has run off!”

  Agnes blanched, but not for the reasons Bernard supposed. “Run off? With whom?”

  Bernard waved a hand. “No one, from what I understand. What I meant to say is that the girl has run away, but no one knows where.”

  “Goodness,” Agnes replied, clutching her heart in feigned shock. “Whatever for?”

  “I believe she was to be married to Lord Thompson,” he continued, his gaze on the window, and not on his mother. “Did she not tell you?”

  "Of course she did," his mother replied. "She was upset because of Lord Thompson’s age, but I never imagined that she was so distraught she would run away."

  "What on earth can her father be thinking?" Bernard asked, taking a sip of his port. "Lord Thompson is almost as old as he is."

  “I don’t know, dear,” Lady Heber replied, faintly. “Although, I do quite agree with you.”

  “Perhaps you should ask him, Mother,” Bernard said. “He is to be invited to the dinner on Friday.”

  Agnes swallowed hard, feeling a sudden thrill of nerves. “He is?”

  Bernard nodded. “Amos wanted to get the latest news, so what better way than to invite the man?”

  Agnes studied her son. He had obviously met the housekeeper but had not recognized Lady Bertram at all. “Is the new housekeeper working out well, Bernard?”

  He nodded. “By all accounts, she is most excellent, Mother. Although she is younger than I expected. The Duke appears taken with her, although he denies it.”

  Agnes frowned. “He does have a reputation after all. Although he assured the woman—”

  “The Duke has never dallied with any of his servants, Mother,” Bernard interrupted. “He will not either; I can assure you. The housekeeper has a pretty face, that is all.”

  Feeling a little relieved, Agnes nodded and tried to smile. She would certainly be attending the dinner on Friday. Perhaps she would be able to catch a few moments with Esther to see how she was doing. It was the best she could hope for.

  * * *

  “Mrs. Edwards,” Amos said cheerfully, smiling as she walked into his study. “Thank you for coming when I am sure you have a lot to do.”

  She lowered her head respectfully, studying his study table instead of his face. The man was handsome, and she hated how her stomach jumped whenever she caught sight of him. Trying to remember about his supposed reputation helped push her attraction down a little, but not quite enough.

  "Of course, Your Grace," she replied, quietly. "What can I do for you?" She wished she could sit down, having grown weary from her work of the day.

  “I wish to go over the menu for the dinner party,” he began, looking down at his scribbled notes. “Six courses should do it, don’t you think?”

  “Whatever you would like, we can do,” Esther replied, the ache in her legs becoming almost unbearable. She found her own notebook and small bit of pencil, standing poised, ready to write down his instructions. She swayed from one foot to the other as inconspicuously as possible, hoping to relieve the throbbing.

  “Soup, first? And then fish?” Amos said, raising his eyes to the housekeeper. Noticing her slight sway and the weariness on her face, he immediately waved her to a seat, ignoring her look of astonishment. As a rule, servants were never permitted to sit, but she was not going to refuse such an offer.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. Yes, soup and fish. What kind of soup?”

  “Please make that decision with the cook,” he said, waving a hand. “I do not have a preference.”

  Breathing out a long sigh, Esther felt her legs grow a little less painful. “Very good, Your Grace. The rest of the dinner?”

  "Chicken, rabbit, beef, mutton, turkey, crab, and prawns," Amos listed. "Then cakes for dessert; although, ensure the cook knows not to scrimp on the fruit. I know Lady Heber, in particular, likes her grapes!"

  “Yes, she does,” Esther smiled, forgetting herself completely.

  Amos studied her for a moment, a little suspiciously. "I did not understand you and Lady Heber were so close."

  Haltingly, Esther tried to come up with a good excuse. "We are not particularly close, Your Grace. I have heard her mention her partiality for the fruit.”

  “I see,” Amos said, his face a little shuttered. “That will be all. Thank you, Mrs. Edwards.”

  Esther took her leave, rushing back to her own quarters. She pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. How could she have been so stupid? Another mistake like that, and her emplo
yer would be highly suspicious of her if he wasn't already! Shaking her head and pressing back angry tears, she made her way to her room, flopping down onto the bed in exhaustion.

  Amos thought about Mrs. Edwards and her comment for a long time after the lady had left. The woman had smiled as she'd said it, as though there was an affection for Lady Heber, but there would not be such an affinity between a servant and a lady of the Dowager Countess's caliber. Staring out the window, Amos remembered how Mrs. Edwards's face lit up when she'd smiled. It transformed her into a beautiful woman, and Amos, once more, felt that swift kick of desire. Mayhap he was suspicious of the woman’s freely spoken comment because he wanted a reason to have her out of his home; she could no longer tempt him. Letting out a low groan, he put his head in his hands, giving in to the knowledge that he was attracted to his housekeeper, the quietly beautiful Mrs. Edwards.

  7

  The day of the dinner party dawned bright and clear, although Esther could not find a single thing to appreciate about the day. Nausea dogged her, and at times she felt so light-headed, she was almost unable to stand. The fear of what would happen should she see her father was overwhelming. On a practical level, she knew that the housekeeper remained below the stairs, overseeing all the duties and ensuring food was sent up on time. However, she could not help but fear that the Duke might send for her and she would have no choice but to obey. Her one relief was that her godmother was going to be in attendance and, Esther hoped, would be able to pre-empt any disastrous meetings.

  The Duke, of course, was completely oblivious to any of her concerns, and she fully intended to keep it that way. Nothing more had been said over her obvious slip, and she had breathed a sigh of relief at their next formal meeting, in which Lord Heber was also in attendance. It was as her godmother had said; Bernard had not recognized her the slightest; in fact, he barely looked at her. That could not be said for the Duke. He always spoke and looked at her directly, and even though she knew she should not, she had often studied him when she thought he was not looking.