Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“This way, thank you.” The Head Housekeeper of Pembourne Estate was an elderly woman by the name of Mrs. Fletcher, and Yvette could tell immediately that the woman did not like her.
“Coming,” Yvette said when Mrs. Fletcher took off without looking back to make sure that she was following. “Where are we going?”
“I have been asked to show you to your rooms,” Mrs. Fletcher said, not slowing down so that Yvette might catch up. “And to give you a tour of the manor.”
Mrs. Fletcher led her up the stairs and down the first hallway. She walked quickly, not looking back, no sense at all that she cared one way or the other if Yvette followed her.
“Your things will be unpacked today for you,” Mrs. Fletcher continued. “And if there is anything else you need, you may ask me or another member of the staff.”
“Thank you.”
“You are not to bring your grievances to His Grace,” she said sharply, and for the first time she looked over her shoulder and scowled at Yvette. “Is that understood?”
“Have I done something to upset you?” Yvette asked.
“Not at all.”
“Are you sure about that?” She laughed to dispel the tension. “I have a knack for sensing these things. I think I get it from my father… it’s what makes him such an effective vicar.” More awkward laughter that was not returned.
Mrs. Fletcher exhaled sharply from her nose and then took a sharp turn.
“Here is your room,” she said as she stepped into the bedroom. “Again, anything that you need, do not hesitate.” She looked coldly at Yvette as if she truly hated her.
Yvette eyed the room from beyond the doorway. On first inspection, everything looked in order. If anything, it was more than she was expecting, as the room itself was nearly the same size as her home. But none of that was what concerned Yvette right now.
Some might have called it a weakness, but Yvette was the type who needed to be liked.
Sure, if someone disliked her for a good reason, she could make her peace with such a thing, but she felt that Mrs. Fletcher’s hostility was uncalled for and seeing as they would likely be working closely together, she could not stomach letting the tension sit.
“I take it that if I do need something, I should not be coming to you,” Yvette said with a smirk. “I worry that if I ask for tea, you might spit in it.”
Mrs. Fletcher stiffened. “I would never do such a thing.”
“At least not on purpose, I am sure,” Yvette said with a wink. Mrs. Fletcher continued to look upon her coldly, and Yvette sighed. “Shall we discuss the elephant in the room? Or are you happier pretending it does not exist?”
“Elephant?” Mrs. Fletcher frowned.
“You don’t like me,” Yvette said. “And I would like to know why. If I have done something to offend you, I do apologize. Or I would, if I knew what it was.” She looked pointedly at Mrs. Fletcher.
“I do not know you,” she said simply. “So how can I not like you?”
“You tell me.”
Mrs. Fletcher looked at her plainly, a raised eyebrow in assessment. Yvette held that look, refusing to back down. She even folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow of her own.
“As you say…” Mrs. Fletcher scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I do not like the way you spoke to His Grace.”
Yvette blinked. “Truly?”
“Yes, truly,” Mrs. Fletcher said sharply. “You do not know what you are talking about. And even if you did, it is not your place to say anything. His Grace is a good man, he deserves respect, and you would do well to remember that.”
“I…” Yvette hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
No, not at all. His Grace was unnecessarily rude and nothing I have seen so far suggests that he is a good man or deserving of respect. Not that you need to know this.
Yvette’s hesitation was short, but it was enough for Mrs. Fletcher to see through any lie that Yvette might have been willing to spin. Her upper lip curled, she rolled her eyes, and she turned and walked down the hallway.
“Come,” she said over her shoulder. “I have a lot to show you, far too much, and I will not waste time that ought to be put to better use.”
Yvette frowned after the housekeeper, wondering if she ought to explain herself better.
It wasn’t that Yvette did not like His Grace; it was just that nothing she had seen so far gave her a reason for why she should.
After all, wasn’t he responsible for Hugh’s situation?
And how could he have an eight-year-old son whom he allowed to live on the street for all this time? And then to judge the poor boy for it!
That alone should be reason not to like him.
Of course, Yvette decided to keep this to herself… for now.
The next thirty minutes passed in tense silence as Mrs. Fletcher showed Yvette through the manor, making sure to highlight the specific rooms that she would need to become acquainted with, while explaining the staff’s schedules, as well as the Duke’s, and anything else that Yvette needed to know if she was to live here.
It was all pretty standard, with the only difficulty being remembering her way through the gigantic manor. Also, Yvette started to worry about what she was going to teach Hugh, because this wasn’t something that she had done before and she had no idea what was expected of her.
She might have thought to ask the Duke himself, but that was clearly not an option. And she might have thought to ask Mrs. Fletcher, but that was also not an option.
It looks like I’ll have to figure things out for myself and hope for the best. Lucky, I am rather good at that by now…
The last stop on the tour was the kitchen, and it was supposed to just be a quick stop so that Yvette could familiarize herself with the kitchen staff.
“And this is Ms. Ridgewell, the Head Cook.” Mrs. Fletcher stood in the doorway of the kitchen and indicated to who could only be Ms. Ridgewell.
“Call me Lucinda.” The Head Cook dusted her hands on her apron and crossed the room to greet Yvette. She wore a huge smile, perhaps the first that Yvette had seen since arriving. “And you must be the new governess… Yvette, was it?”
“That’s right.” Yvette took her by the hand. “How did you know?”
“These walls talk,” Lucinda chuckled. “A little too much sometimes, truth be told. No secrets in this place.”
Lucinda Ridgewell was younger than Yvette might have expected. She couldn’t have been older than thirty; her hair was strawberry blonde, her eyes were piercing green, and her chubby face was surely typical of most cooks. Most interesting was the clear bump hidden under her apron.
“I’m sorry to ask…” Yvette hesitated, not sure if she should continue. “But are you… you’re not…” Her eyes flicked to the bump.
Lucinda laughed. “Pregnant? No need to be embarrassed. I suppose it’s better than just being fat now, isn’t it?” She rested her hands on her belly. “Eight months now, it is.”
“And you’re still working?” Yvette frowned. “I might have thought you would be given time off…” Again, she wondered about the Duke, and again her opinion of him decreased. “Surely, it is hard on you, having to work like this?”
Mrs. Fletcher exhaled sharply out of her nose, looked as if she was about to interject, only for another member of staff to suddenly appear in the kitchen. It was a young man this time, and he rushed to Mrs. Fletcher and began to whisper frantically in her ear.
Mrs. Fletcher clicked her tongue with frustration. “Miss Norleigh, I am afraid –”
“Please, you may call me Yvette.”
She clenched her jaw. “Yvette. I am afraid I am needed elsewhere. Will you be fine to find your room by yourself?”
“I think I will manage.”
“Good.” With that, Mrs. Fletcher hurried from the kitchen, followed closely behind by the young footman.
The atmosphere in the kitchen changed the moment Mrs. Fletcher left. Far less hostile and infinitely warmer.
“She’s not as stiff as she might seem,” Lucinda said when she saw the look on Yvette’s face. “A little tightly wound, I will grant you. But she has a softer side.”
“I am sure she is as soft as a kitten,” Yvette sighed.
Lucinda laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. But she has worked in this manor her entire life, just about, and she knows His Grace better than anyone. Practically his mother, the way she talks about him.”
“I am sure they are made for one another,” Yvette said with a little more acid than she meant. Her eyes widened when she realized how it must have sounded. “I did not mean –”
“No need to explain.” Lucinda laughed further. “I’m getting the sense that your first impression of His Grace was not as comforting as it could be.”
Yvette grimaced. “I do not wish to judge… nor am I the type to.”
“But…”
“Well, seeing as you asked.” Yvette sighed and shook her head, hoping to make it seem that she wasn’t nearly as judgmental as she was sure to sound.
“I found him a little cold. And rude. And not very nice, if I am being perfectly honest. And the way that he treated his son! As if the boy were somehow at fault. As if he had nothing to do with his son’s abandonment and –” Yvette caught her tongue when she realized what she had said…
and what she was about to say. She bit into her lower lip and looked away.
“Perhaps you should forget I said any of that.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Maybe…”
Lucinda laughed again. “I can see how you might think these things. Indeed, His Grace does have a quality that some might find off-putting.”
“That is one way to say it…”
“If it helps, in my experience, His Grace has been nothing but kind to me. Damn generous, in fact. He might seem a little harsh around the edges, a little dark and mysterious.” She winked. “But that’s not the real him. Once you get to know him better, I promise your opinion will change.”
“I hope so,” Yvette sighed, not believing it for a second.
“That’s how it was for me,” Lucinda said. “I first met His Grace when I was a little girl – my father is a farmer, works on the estate about ten miles from here. I used to be terrified of His Grace,” she laughed. “Thought he was the scariest man I’d ever seen. Those scars…” She shivered.
“What changed?”
Lucinda smiled, and it reached her eyes.
“When I fell pregnant, my father was furious. Damn murderous, he was. He kicked me out; told me he wanted nothing to do with a strumpet like me. When His Grace found out, he offered me a job! No questions. No judgement. He knew I was with child and wanted to make sure I was taken care of.”
Yvette blinked in surprise. “He did?”
“He did,” Lucinda said seriously; Yvette could see the admiration reflecting in her green eyes.
“He even checks on me, time to time, makes sure I can still work. And he’s promised that when the baby arrives, he’ll put me up for as long as I need.
” Her eyes started to water, and she sniffed back tears.
“He’s a good man, His Grace. Better than most give him credit for. ”
Yvette was nothing but surprised. If even half of what Lucinda said was true, maybe the Duke wasn’t nearly as cold and mean as she assumed?
But if that is the case, he might do better to act this way.
“And what of Hugh?” Yvette questioned as if she needed a reason to hold onto her misgivings about the Duke. “How can he have had a child for eight whole years and cared nothing for him? Left him on the street to fend for himself?”
“Now, I’m just a cook, so I don’t claim to know everything.” She laughed at that. “What I do know is that His Grace only found out about young Hugh a few months ago. I tell you, that caused quite a stir, it did.”
“He… he did?”
“As soon as he found out, he had him watched, wanted to make sure the boy was doing well before he brought him into the home. Worried, he was, that if he tried to force it, Hugh might run off, or worse. He might not show it, but he cares for that boy. I know that he does.”
“I had no idea.” Yvette flushed with embarrassment.
“He means well,” Lucinda continued, still smiling, still looking as if she worshipped His Grace and the ground he walked on. If half of what she has said is true, then I can’t very well blame her. “Your father is a vicar, yes?”
“Oh.” Yvette blinked in surprise at the pivot. “He is.”
“Then you know all about forgiveness. Judging others not on their past mistakes but how they try and fix them.” She reached out and rested a hand on Yvette’s shoulder.
It was covered in flour and left a stain.
“Trust me on this. Spend some time here, watch His Grace, and you’ll see that he ain’t nearly as bad as he seems. And Hugh…
” Her smile grew. “He’s lucky to have a father like that. ”
Yvette had no idea what to say.
She did know what to think, however, and those thoughts brought with them immense guilt. She had been so quick to judge, and just as quick to demonize, and all before she knew the whole story. Or even half of it.
Yes, she had disliked the Duke at first. And yes, she had assumed that he was a bad seed and that she would find nothing to like about him. But having heard what Lucinda told her just now, Yvette wondered if she was wrong about the dispassionate and very scary Duke.
Stranger still, she hoped that she was.
“Thank you,” Yvette said.
“What for?”
“For helping me to see things from a different perspective.” It was still early in her tenure here, and Yvette had no idea what to expect. What she did know was that the next time she saw the Duke, she would treat him differently than she had.
Maybe one day, she and he would even become friends. Stranger things had certainly happened.