Chapter 6 #2
Well, of course they would insult her, but they would not linger in her consciousness or cling to her soul.
Those two were not significant enough for their opinions to have weight with her.
Their insults would only give her the opportunity to lash back, and probably with the sort of surprising sharpness that shocked them into silence while she wallowed in triumph.
If she was going to be cast out, she might as well be cast out in fashion and with the sort of panache that belonged to a spinster of her age.
Even if she was a widow.
Technically.
But also not technically, depending on which technicality one was following.
“I am very concerned for you, Ellie,” Mrs. Havens whispered, the sound particularly pained. “We cannot afford to lose you, and you have nowhere to go.”
Ellie wiped her hands on the stained pinafore over her skirts, smiling fondly. “I am not going to worry about something that has not happened yet, nor something that I have very little control over. I will simply have to prove myself useful for a time.”
Mrs. Havens frowned at that. “Are you hoping the new Lord Bickham will hire you as a servant?”
That actually had not occurred to Ellie, but she wouldn’t necessarily mind it.
She could continue to be Mr. Williams if she were still here, and she was not so high and mighty as to be opposed to hard work.
She knew the house well enough and had been taking care of it as best as possible in the last three years, so the only thing that would change would be her earning a wage for it.
And her status changing.
But would that be so terrible? The scandal would be avoided if she were a servant in the household. She wouldn’t have to worry about finding another husband. She wouldn’t have to pretend she would make a good governess. She wouldn’t have to think about lodgings and rent and the like.
But she would be a servant, and to a man she had already demonstrated a sharp tongue to.
He might not find her capable of domestic servitude.
“I was not considering joining the household that way, no,” Ellie admitted easily. “I thought I might be able to give him the sort of insight into the estate that would prove useful to the new heir. A sort of mentoring, if you will.”
Mrs. Havens raised a suspicious brow. “What gentleman would even consider being mentored by a woman?”
Ellie barked a laugh of true delight, loving the brusque question from the kind and dedicated woman.
“I am in earnest, Ellie!” the housekeeper retorted, even as she laughed herself. “You are the most capable, educated, strong, brilliant woman I have ever known, but you are still a woman. And a man’s pride will outweigh his sense nine times out of ten. What are you thinking will happen here?”
Ellie shrugged. “I think his pride is tweaked because of the state of this place and how much he does not know. I think it would be in his best interest to talk to the one person who can actually discuss Fenmore with him in specific terms, and he might be desperate enough to do so, considering his attachment here. I don’t believe he will listen to my thoughts and opinions, but I do think he’ll listen to facts. And facts are what I will stand by.”
Mrs. Havens seemed more settled by that admission, but she was far from comforted.
Her eyes tracked Ellie’s features, and something there must have given her insight because she changed the subjected.
“I’ve talked to Mrs. Mallon about her sons coming to trim the hedges in the garden.
She’s agreed to bring them along next week when she tends the flowers. ”
“Wonderful,” Ellie praised smoothly, as though this were any other day in their vegetable garden. “Mr. Jansen has agreed to do a complimentary farrier examination of Chestnut if I can have him down at the Garner farm tomorrow when he is tending their two nags.”
Their conversation continued on with the household matters as though nothing had changed, and the normalcy was grounding for Ellie. The looming change to their lives was ultimately beyond her, and there was relief in that. She had no decisions to make. No feathers to soothe. No problems to solve.
All she had to do was react, and react well.
Perhaps she had not done so the night before when she first met the new Lord Bickham, but she could do so now. Well, from now on. If he spoke to her.
If, if, if.
Always if.
That was the most maddening part about being a woman. Always if and never when. Because there was no certainty and her fate was not in her hands.
It always lay in the hands of men.
Curse Leonard and his ridiculous death. She’d needed more time to bring up Fenmore to a successful place. One where she could have made money he was unaware of.
Now all of that work would profit West and she would have nothing.
Would he be willing to settle an amount on her for the efforts she had made? And could it be possible for that amount to get her a house?
What if she became a tenant?
That was a better idea than servitude. If she were permitted to set up on the estate as a tenant, she could live comfortably and continue with her role as the estate manager without anyone being the wiser.
Except West Howard seemed more the sort to keep a close eye on details, which meant he would want to work with Mr. Williams rather than be informed by him.
Which would be a massive problem for them both, and a scandal worse than a single woman living alone in an estate with the new heir.