Marry For Love: An addictive Regency romance by Christina Courtenay

Author:Christina Courtenay [Courtenay, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Choc Lit Historical Romance: A Joffe Books Company
Published: 2024-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Two weeks after Lord Blackwood’s departure the entire house was as clean and fragrant as it could possibly be. Woodwork and furniture had been polished, carpets beaten, shelves dusted, hangings and curtains washed or aired. There wasn’t a corner of the keep where any self-respecting spider would want to stay and Lilah felt very satisfied with what she had achieved so far.

‘We mustn’t let it get out of hand from now on,’ she told the others. ‘And I’m not blaming you, Mrs Kendrick, I know you had your own chores to see to so it was too much to ask that you should keep on top of the cleaning as well. From now on we’ll clean the rooms on a rota.’

‘Good idea,’ Mrs Kendrick agreed. The cook had warmed towards Lilah considerably and when the latter heard Moira mutter something about ‘slave-drivers’ one day, the cook had snarled at the maid to mind her manners.

Things were looking up.

The fact that she still missed Hamish was something Lilah tried to forget. She buried herself in work, finding all manner of tasks that needed doing — mending, accounts, ordering of supplies and things like making candles and sorting out the stillroom. She had been taught to make all the things necessary to a household such as soap, lavender water and herbal remedies. The gardener seemed happy to supply her with whatever she needed and she spent many happy hours making various concoctions, as well as different types of soap.

‘Mmm, smells heavenly,’ Mrs Kendrick said when given a small wash-ball from Lilah’s first batch. ‘Any guests coming here will like that, I should think. Lavender, is it?’

‘Well, it’s for all of us,’ Lilah said and gave some to the other women as well. For Jameson and Armstrong she’d made a different type with a more manly smell that was scented with pine resin, which they seemed to like. Mr Findlay, although polite, had declined her offer saying he always bought his own. But since he appeared not to resent her presence, she didn’t take this as an insult, merely his preference.

They were all seated in the kitchen having supper one evening when a commotion was heard from the yard. Jameson got up, shoving the last corner of a piece of bread into his mouth. ‘I’ll go see what’s happening,’ he said.

‘No, sit, lad. I’ll see to it,’ Findlay ordered.

‘Perhaps I’d better go as well in case rooms are needed.’ Lilah followed him to the front of the house and out onto the steps that led into the courtyard where she’d first entered.

A horse and cart had drawn up next to them and a surly man was busy hefting a small trunk off the back, while a young boy jumped down from the other side. Findlay exchanged a puzzled glance with Lilah and shrugged, then they both descended into the courtyard and waited for the boy to come forward. ‘Good afternoon,’ Findlay said. ‘Are you looking for someone?’

‘Yes, Lord Blackwood. He lives here, doesn’t he?’

Findlay frowned.

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