Chapter 5
“Miss Tilly! Don’t run too far!” the housekeeper shouted as Tilly giggled and ran through the rows of bushes in the garden.
“At least she seems to have forgotten about breakfast,” Edith sighed.
“Indeed. Children are remarkably adaptable creatures,” the housekeeper agreed.
“You are correct,” Edith said as they watched Tilly explore, trailing her fingers along rows of robust green bushes and breathing in the heady scents of orange, red, and purple blooms.
“How large is the garden?” Edith asked.
“Nearly twenty acres,” the housekeeper replied with a smile. “The gardeners certainly do have a task keeping it all neat and orderly, but they do good work, even though there’s few of them.”
“I can see that,” Edith murmured as she looked out over the estate.
“That direction leads to a woodland walk,” the housekeeper said, gesturing toward a copse of manicured trees. “And that way leads to the hedge maze.”
“There’s a hedge maze?” Tilly squealed, bursting out from behind a shrub.
“Oh yes, there is!” the housekeeper said with a slight chuckle.
“Can we go look now?” Tilly asked eagerly, scrambling back to the two women.
“Another day, Tilly. The sun is getting high, and we haven’t got any parasols,” Edith replied, glancing up at the sky.
It was a cloudless day, slowly warming from late spring to summer.
“Let us go back inside,” the housekeeper said with a smile.
Tilly ran after them, looking around the parlor they’d entered.
“Who’s that?” she asked, pointing up at one of the portraits.
The housekeeper stiffened, looking at the portrait of an older man with Laurence’s blue eyes. “That was the old Duke,” she replied gently.
“Old duke?” Tilly frowned.
“Likely His Grace’s father or grandfather,” Edith interjected, noticing how uncomfortable the housekeeper looked. “Come on, let’s look around more,” she added, guiding Tilly out of the room.
The housekeeper nodded gratefully at Edith, then led them through more of the estate and its beautifully manicured grounds.
Edith kept Tilly’s attention diverted to avoid any further mention of the old Duke. She knew well enough that when a servant flinched at the mere mention of a former master, there was usually a good reason to take heed.
Those eyes, though. That familiar, cold gaze that Laurence had obviously inherited. Did he see the ghost of his father each time he looked in the mirror?
The day wore on, and soon it was lunchtime. The trio entered the dining room, and Tilly and Edith took their seats.
Tilly glanced sadly at the empty spot where Laurence should have been, then looked back at her place at the table, where a steaming bowl of carrot soup had been set.
Edith reached for her spoon but froze when she saw Tilly grabbing the sides of her bowl. “Oh, no, Tilly. We use a spoon,” she said, holding up her own spoon to demonstrate.
Tilly frowned. “Why?”
“It is the proper way to eat soup, and you’re less likely to spill it on your clothes.” Edith smiled.
“Oh, I see.”
Tilly picked up her spoon, dipped it in the soup, the brought the front of it to her lips.
Edith winced slightly. “Ah… Tilly, not like that either.”
“I’m using a spoon, though!” the young girl groaned. “Are there rules for spoons?”
“Yes.” Edith chuckled softly. “We drink soup from the side of the spoon, not the front.”
“That’s so silly,” Tilly grumbled, struggling with her hold on the spoon.
“Well, you are a duke’s daughter now, and you will be expected to behave accordingly,” Edith replied.
“Must I, really?” Tilly pouted.
“You think I enjoy these rules?” Edith chuckled, before taking a delicate sip of soup.
“If you don’t, why are you so good at it?” Tilly asked with a frown.
“Because I was a good little girl who listened to her caretakers and governess.” Edith grinned.
Tilly nodded slowly and looked at her spoon again. She did her best to eat from the side of the spoon and not dribble soup. Edith had to occasionally reach over with a napkin to help with the spills.
It took longer than anyone would have preferred, but Tilly eventually finished.
“That was more work than anyone should have to do for soup,” she groaned. “Please tell me there are not many more rules and things to learn?”
“It would not be proper for me to lie to you,” Edith said, trying not to smile.
Tilly let out another groan and lowered her forehead onto the table.
“I can help you learn some of the other rules in a more fun way,” Edith offered.
“There is no fun way to learn rules,” Tilly mumbled into the table.
“If you insist,” Edith said.
She waited a moment, then opened the small porcelain jar on the table. She took out a yellow sphere and ate it quietly.
Tilly looked up, curious, then her eyes widened.
“What are those?” she asked.
Edith swallowed quickly. “Lemon drop,” she answered. “Your governess brought them, but as you are not interested in learning rules, I did not think you would want one.”
“What?” Tilly gasped, sitting up. “Can I have one?”
“Oh, these are only for good girls who want to learn rules,” Edith said, reaching for another lemon drop.
Tilly whimpered as she watched Edith put the sweet in her mouth. Edith drew out the moment, making soft noises of enjoyment.
“They are quite sweet.” She chuckled. “A little sour… and very moreish.”
Tilly squirmed, watching. She glanced at the jar, then at Edith. Her little hands gripped the edge of the table.
Edith smiled as she swallowed the candy and reached for another.
“Fine! I will learn the rules!” Tilly conceded. “Can I have one?”
“First rule you must learn,” Edith quipped, holding up the sweet. “When you ask for something, you say please. When you receive it, you say thank you. So, what do you say?”
“Can I have one… please?” Tilly asked, her eyes locked on the yellow candy in Edith’s fingers.
Edith smiled and handed it to her.
“Thank you!” Tilly gasped, popping the sweet in her mouth. She giggled and sucked it happily.
“I see someone has a sweet tooth,” Edith noted.
“Only a little one,” Tilly mumbled, swallowing the candy.
“Well, a little one is enough for me.” Edith chuckled. “Lesson two,” she added as she took out another sweet. “We do not speak with a mouth full of food.”
“Why?” Tilly asked, watching the candy in Edith’s hand.
“Imagine we are having beef with the Duke, and you start talking. Would you not spray it all over him?” Edith asked.
Tilly grimaced at the mental picture. “Yuck…”
“Indeed. So, no matter what is in your mouth, you don’t speak while eating,” Edith said, handing her the candy.
Tilly nodded and sucked on it happily.
The little girl was much like Edith was as a child: bubbly, warm, and with a fondness for sweets. She finished the candy and sipped her drink to wash it down.
“What other rules do I need to learn?” she asked.
“I have an eager pupil now, do I?” Edith laughed. “Come, I’ll show you the different kinds of cutlery and what they are used for.”
From the depths of his study, Laurence could hear the laughter drifting up from the dining room. He sighed, his breath disturbing dust on some of the ledgers. Some had not been opened in quite a while.
Reading through them now, the numbers told a bleak story.
Debts, missed payments, families going hungry. The church had done its duty and fed the poor. He should be grateful, but he hated that they needed its help.
His jaw clenched. He despised his father for putting him in this position.
No matter. Now, I can finally make it right.
Taking a deep breath, he dipped his quill in the ink, the dark liquid climbing up the shaft, and quickly began allocating funds to wherever the need was greatest. Construction work, especially. The houses on the land he managed hadn’t been repaired since the fire.
Thinking of that day brought a flash of pain down his side, but he pushed through. He could not let that day stop him from fixing his father’s mistakes.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his feverish scribbling and calculating. He had not noticed how much time had passed, and the sun was now descending in the west. If Edith did not pester him again to join them for dinner, she could come in and have a word.
“Enter,” he called, still scribbling.
“What are you doing?” Tilly asked.
Upon hearing her small voice, Laurence’s head shot up, and his hand clenched reflexively, crushing the quill. Ink seeped into the page he had been writing on. He cursed under his breath and attempted to contain the damage with a blotter.
“I am working,” he replied.
“Can I see what you’re doing?” she asked, walking up to his desk.
“Not now, there’s ink all over it,” he murmured.
“That was very clumsy of you,” Tilly remarked innocently.
He looked down at her. This girl still confounded him. She was so small, and yet she treated him with more curiosity and grace than others had given him in some time.
“Is that a map?” she asked, pointing to a map of the duchy.
“Yes,” he replied curtly as he tried to clean the page.
“Of the place you look after?”
“Of the duchy, yes.”
“That’s a lot of land.”
“A lot of people rely on me to do my work,” he replied, frowning.
“Do you have a lot of work?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “So let me get back to it.”
“Tilly! There you are!” Edith called, panting softly. It would seem Tilly had a talent for making people chase her. “Your Grace, I’m so sorry—”
“I told you she’s not to be in here,” Laurence said coldly.
“I am aware. I did not intentionally lose track of her,” Edith sighed, exasperated.
“You need to—” He stopped, taking in her visage.
Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were soft with apology. The words stuck in his throat.
“I told you, I’m sorry,” Edith huffed, stepping into the room.
“Sorry isn’t enough,” he bit out, standing to face her.
“There isn’t a lot else I can say!” Edith snapped. She was close now.
“You don’t need to say anything. Just keep her away from here,” he growled, leaning toward her until they were only an inch apart.
He watched her swallow hard, her cheeks reddening. The blush both suited and softened her.