4. Chapter 4 #2
Thomas wrung his floppy hat in his hands. “I’m afraid not. But I’ll learn. I’m quick to pick things up.”
She looked him over and put a plump hand over his fidgeting ones. “I’m sorry about whatever happened to make you fall from grace. You’ve been a gentleman in the past. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. But we’ll get you a wage soon enough. Keep your head up.”
Thomas grinned from ear to ear.
“Actually, best keep your head down. That’s what us servants do best. We can’t have that smile of yours getting out and calling attention to you.” She chuckled. “I’m going to have you be Jack’s shadow for the time being. He’ll keep you on your toes.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bitters. What job does Jack have?”
“Oh, this and that. He cares for the garden and helps in the stable and sometimes we need him as a footman. You’ll find him in the garden now.”
Thomas thanked her again and went to find the man who would teach him how to be a proper servant.
Thankfully, locating the garden wasn’t difficult.
All he had to do was walk around a hedge.
Finding Jack turned out to be a different story altogether.
The only person he could see was a young man sitting on a bench reading a book.
After having gone around the perimeter of the entire garden, Thomas headed over to the young man. “Good day. I wonder if you know anyone by the name of Jack that might be nearby?”
The young man grinned up at him, a small gap between his front teeth. “That depends on who’s askin’.”
“Pardon me. My name is Tom Smith. Mrs. Bitters sent me to find Jack.”
“Mrs. Bitters, eh?” The young man stood up. He was tall and lanky with a head of unruly orange curls. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jack. What can I do for you?”
Thomas gaped. He couldn’t very well help it. He was to be trained to be a servant by a boy likely no older than seventeen.
Jack moved his outstretched hand and grabbed Thomas’s, whose arm was still hanging limp next to his side. “My arm was getting tired while you decided. Now, what does Mrs. Bitters need?”
Shaking his head, Thomas swallowed. “I’m your new assistant.”
Jack laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Assistant? Really? I’ve never had an assistant before. What does that mean?”
At least the situation was funny to both of them. “I think that means you have the opportunity to teach me to be a proper servant. I’m . . . new at this. What are you reading?”
Jack set his book down, rubbed his hands together, and walked a slow circle around Thomas. “Oh, I can’t read. I’m just trying to figure why so many people like it.”
Thomas felt a pang of regret for the boy. Reading was essential to bettering his lifestyle.
“You know what I think?” Jack’s smile was a little crooked, and he seemed altogether too happy about the circumstances. “I think Mrs. Bitters knew I needed some more fun in my life.”
For the next half hour, Jack took Thomas on a tour of the place, which was similar in size to Thomas’s own townhouse a couple blocks away. The gardens, the stables, and the servant’s quarters that seemed too small to fit Thomas’s entire person—but he would make do.
Mrs. Bitters found some livery close to Thomas’s size for him to wear when he was attending to the Samuel’s guests.
He tried on the deep maroon uniform with gold buttons and trim, and came out to show her the fit.
It didn’t feel quite right. The breeches were far too tight, and the jacket sleeves a tad short. He felt like an absolute ninny.
Jack whistled when Thomas walked into the kitchen. “You look like you jumped into a jar of cook’s plum jam—your face matches the color of your coat.” He laughed. “But you forgot one thing.” He tapped the top of his head.
“What?”
“Your wig.”
Mrs. Bitters hit Jack’s shoulder with a tea towel. “You know very well His Grace did away with those last year.”
As much as Thomas did not want to wear a powdered wig, he did feel the loss of an easy disguise. “Thank the heavens for that. Mrs. Bitters, if you weren’t here, Jack would have had me parading about like a fool.”
“You won’t need help on that front,” Jack said. “Now, my liveried assistant. We have some guests to greet.”
Thomas had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to happen next would be mortifying. But he was made of sterner stuff than quitting his post on the first day. He bowed low to Jack. “I am at your command.”
They both laughed as they exited the back of the house, Mrs. Bitters chuckling behind them as she closed the door. This was precisely what Thomas was looking for. People who laughed with him, who didn’t get quiet when he walked into a room.
Jack led Thomas toward the front of the house. “The duchess is sponsoring a new lady to be presented at court. Your job, now that you’re dressed for it, is to help the lady down from the carriage.”
That seemed a simple enough task. Thomas had done that countless times.
After being left standing outside the gate to the stables, it only took ten minutes for a crest emblazoned carriage to pull up in front of the townhouse.
Thomas recognized it, but he couldn’t place which great house it came from.
He hurried forward, careful to keep his head down.
This would be his second real test to see if anyone recognized him.
He’d failed miserably the first time. But that was Samuel, one of his closest friends, so of course he was more likely to recognize him.
Thomas kept his shoulders back, his gaze on the cobbled stone beneath him as he approached the carriage.
He opened the door and was met with a calming floral scent.
Amid the sounds of carriages and people bustling about, Thomas’s nerves settled.
He extended his hand up toward the descending lady.
When she put her gloved hand in his, however, a jolt shot through his body. He couldn’t help but look up at her.
There before him was an angel.
No other words could describe the demure young lady. The sun shone behind her head illuminating her soft, light brown curls like a halo, and her eyes radiated kindness.
When her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go of her hand, and she took another step toward him with a catch in her breath.
Thomas bowed over her hand and kissed the back of her white kid glove.
A short yelp came from behind the lady. “What spectacle is this?” A woman’s voice fairly slapped Thomas back into his role as a servant.
He quickly released the lady’s hand and stepped back, his head bowed even lower.
“I’ll handle this, Mother,” a young boy’s voice pierced the awkward silence.
Thomas saw two small hessian boots come toe to toe with him.
“Footmen are not permitted to be so forward toward my sister. Is that clear?”
Thomas nodded with heat creeping up his neck, trying in vain to place the little boy. “I apologize, sir.”
“My Lord.”
Thomas’s eyes snapped up enough to take in the boy’s face.
“You are to address me as, My Lord.” He continued on like Thomas was a simpleton. “Where did His Grace find you? I’ll be certain to tell him what a disgraceful reception we received upon our arrival. It might be prudent for you to consider looking for a different position.”
Thomas ground his teeth together. He would not rise to the bait from what looked to be a twelve-year-old boy.
The little lord pushed past Thomas, his sharp shoulder connecting solidly with Thomas’s gut.
Twelve or no, the miniature gentleman was not one to be taken lightly.
At least not by a servant; if Thomas were dressed as he usually was in the highest degree of fashion, he would set this boy down and teach him a lesson or two on respect.
But alas, it was not to be so today. Because today, Thomas was a footman. For the first time, it chaffed.
“Come, Lavender,” the woman spoke again, and Thomas finally placed the family. This was Lady Gardner, and the little lord must be Lord Winberg.
Thomas chanced another glance up toward the young lady he’d helped from the carriage.
Lady Lavender. She opened her fan and deftly swatted away a bee that was beside her.
Thomas’s body hummed with the recollection of her touch.
Her gaze connected with his, and his heart underwent a change he feared he would never be able to undo.
How could one lady have such an effect on him?
He’d seen beauty before, he’d held beautiful women on the dance floor, and he’d seen the most vivid locations in Europe.
But Lady Lavender was something different altogether.
He took a step back and his foot squelched into a soft mound.
Upon closer examination, he discovered it to be manure.
If the House of Lords landed atop of Thomas, it would not prove to be a sufficient hiding place.
Lady Gardner swatted Thomas with her reticule and plugged her nose. “You fool. Keep your hands off my daughter.”
Heat spread from Thomas’s cheeks to the tips of his poorly concealed ears. “Yes, my lady.” He couldn’t have been more humiliated on his first task if he’d tried.
He heard the party move toward the house and he spun away, hiding his face and attempting to stomp off the disgusting muck that was stuck to his boots.
What else could have possibly gone awry?
It was a timely reminder for him that it was these types of people precisely that Thomas was glad to leave behind when he’d entered his time of servitude.
But apparently he couldn’t avoid them altogether.
The only good that came from the entire debacle was that Lady Gardner, as hawk-like as she was in searching for suitors for her daughters, hadn’t realized Thomas’s true identity.