Chapter Ten
Iwould like to arrange a special supper for tonight,” Amelia said to the housekeeper, Mrs. Menford.
The older woman’s hair was pulled back in a severe chignon, and streaks of gray lined the edges. Her dress was a dark navy blue, and she wore a starched cap. The housekeeper appeared beleaguered by the request, as if she was not in any way inclined to obey.
“My lady, I need more than a few hours to prepare a special meal,” Mrs. Menford said. The tone in her voice was patronizing, as if Amelia weren’t aware of the necessary arrangements.
“His Lordship did not send word of his impending arrival, nor yours. We are all at sixes and sevens already. A special meal would simply be too much to ask of my kitchen maids.”
Amelia thought back to her own housekeeper, Mrs. Larson. The Scotswoman loved nothing more than to put together a spontaneous gathering. She’d been able to conjure a large meal out of very little and had never hesitated to produce a feast out of a famine.
“We can have the meal a little later tonight, if you need to send the servants out for more food.” It was more than reasonable, Amelia thought. “But I do think we should try to make a celebration, if we can.”
After all, it wasn’t every day that the lord of the household got married. She couldn’t imagine why the woman was so unwilling to prepare a good meal.
But the housekeeper only sighed and shook her head. “Forgive me, my lady, but I know that you are new to this household and cannot understand how things are done here at Castledon.”
A sliver of anger threaded down Amelia’s spine.
The woman was behaving as if she had no inkling of how to manage an earl’s household.
Wasn’t she the daughter of a baron? Her mother and sisters had taught her the necessities, ever since she was a young girl.
The woman’s remarks were completely inappropriate.
“While I appreciate your suggestion,” the housekeeper continued, “I must admit that—”
“Do you wish to keep your position as housekeeper at Castledon?” Amelia interrupted.
Although she kept her fury in check, inwardly she was on the verge of losing her temper.
Yes, she was young. Yes, this was her first household to manage.
But she also knew that the housekeeper had no right to question her wishes—it was her duty to carry them out without argument.
Mrs. Larson would never dare to go against Beatrice’s orders.
It was unheard of. For this woman to question her orders on the very first day was not a good sign.
“I—well, of course, my lady.” The older woman’s face paled as if she’d never expected such a response.
Amelia kept her face emotionless. “My husband and I have been traveling for several days. Asking you to arrange a good meal for our family is not beyond your abilities, I should hope. If you find it an unnecessary burden, then perhaps you should find employment elsewhere.”
“I will speak with the cook, my lady.” The woman’s mouth tightened, but at least she had backed down. The rigid cast to her face suggested that she was holding back anger of her own.
“Very good. And please have her prepare a dessert of some kind. A tart or a cake, if you would,” Amelia said. Though she knew Lord Castledon disliked sweets, likely his daughter would enjoy it.
The housekeeper looked as if she wanted to argue, but this time she held her tongue. “As you wish.”
Amelia thanked her and left, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment.
Although it was unwise to make enemies among the servants this early, there was nothing to be done about it.
Margaret would likely have dismissed Mrs. Menford on the spot.
Perhaps she should have done the same, but Lord Castledon had asked her not to make too many changes.
Firing the housekeeper certainly fell into that category.
Amelia’s stomach twisted over what she’d done, and she decided to seek out her husband for advice. Or at least he might be able to tell her if the housekeeper was ordinarily so contemptuous.
After asking several footmen, she found the earl in the conservatory. He was standing in front of a pianoforte, idly tracing the edge of the wood.
“May I speak with you a moment?” she asked quietly, closing the door behind her.
He glanced up, but his expression spoke of a man distracted. His hair was rumpled as if he’d run his hands through it a moment earlier. “Of course. Is something wrong with Christine?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since earlier today.” It wouldn’t surprise her if the girl was plotting with Mrs. Menford on how to overthrow her.
“I thought the two of you would spend time getting acquainted.” He frowned, as if he’d anticipated that they would become immediate best friends. Amelia wasn’t certain if he was aware of Christine’s animosity and decided not to mention it.
“There will be time enough for that later,” she assured him. “I needed to meet the household staff and make arrangements for our meal tonight.”
His shoulders lowered, and he appeared no longer concerned. “Mrs. Menford has everything well in hand. You don’t have to trouble yourself about anything. She’s run the household ever since I was a small boy.”
Terrorized the household, more likely, Amelia thought, but didn’t say so. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. She’s already questioning my orders, treating me like a little girl who doesn’t know how to manage an estate. It concerns me, and I’d like for you to support me in this.”
The earl moved forward and shrugged. “Give her some time to adjust to your wishes. I’m certain it will all turn out well, for she never had any trouble with Katherine. The pair of them got along with no trouble at all, and so will you.”
In other words, Amelia was the problem, and the earl saw no reason to interfere. For a moment, she was so dismayed by his lack of a response that she hardly knew what to say.
“I asked her to have the cook prepare a special meal for all of us tonight, to celebrate your homecoming and for Christine. She acted as if it was a great inconvenience and out of the question.”
“We did arrive with no warning,” he admitted.
“In a day or two, I imagine everything will settle down.” He reached out and touched the back of her neck.
“Don’t let it bother you, Amelia.” Then he lowered his mouth to her throat, sending a spiral of desire through her.
The gesture of affection caught her off guard, but then she realized he was trying to sweeten her up.
It didn’t seem to concern him at all that the servants weren’t listening to her. Did he not realize that housekeepers were not supposed to behave like army generals?
She leaned forward to rest her cheek against his shirt. “I know my duties, Lord Castledon. My mother saw to it that all of us were prepared to run a household.” And she knew that a housekeeper who disobeyed orders on the first day could not remain here long.
His hand touched her spine. “Everything will be fine,” was all he said. Dismay filled her, for he seemed unaware of the true problem. She straightened, realizing that this issue was hers to solve.
Pulling away from him, she bid him a good afternoon. “I will see you tonight.”
“Tell Christine I expect her to be kind to you.” He smiled, and Amelia didn’t correct his assumption. She wasn’t about to seek out a second person who didn’t like her.
If she did that, she’d start to doubt every decision she made. It was time to retreat, to make plans, and find all the reasons to be thankful. She would not weep or behave as if the world had dealt her a bad hand of cards. She simply had to reevaluate her circumstances and make the most of them.
Even if no one really wanted her here.
“You married the wrong woman, Papa.”
Christine closed the door behind her, and David was startled by his daughter’s proclamation. “You’ve only just met her,” he responded. Although Amelia was young and inexperienced, she needed more than a day to get adjusted to life as a countess.
“Why would you say I married the wrong woman?” he asked, opening his arms to his daughter. “You said you wanted a new mother.”
Christine came to sit upon his knee, and her gray eyes remained quite serious. “I wanted one much older. Someone like Miss Grant, someone who understands me.”
David had no interest in marrying her governess and had never even considered it. Although Miss Grant was a decent enough woman, she’d given Christine too much freedom.
“Miss Grant resigned her post as your governess several weeks ago. The last I heard, she was going to marry someone else.”
“But she could change her mind,” Christine insisted. “If you would ask her, she’d say no to that other man.”
“I’m not going to ask Miss Grant to marry me,” he told her firmly. “I’ve already married Amelia Andrews, and she will do well enough as your stepmother.”
His daughter looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. “You’re wrong, Papa.”
“I think you should give Amelia a chance. She’s a lovely young woman. Quite amusing, actually.”
Though he told his daughter stories about the board game he’d played with Amelia and her sister, his thoughts turned to another type of amusement. She’d startled him last night in the coach by seducing him. That encounter had only awakened his hunger more, making him crave her body.
She was dangerous to his life, like a siren who wove her spell around him. Sharing her bed once in a while was acceptable, but not every night. He preferred to keep their marriage as an amiable friendship, one that never dared to trespass beyond that boundary.
“You should have consulted me before you wed her,” Christine said. “She looks like the sort of stepmother who would lock me in my room.”
David bit back a laugh. “She isn’t that bad.”