Only Beloved (SC 7) by Mary Balogh

Author:Mary Balogh
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-03-07T10:25:19+00:00

13

George spent most of the next morning at home, first with his secretary, then with his steward. He had some catching up to do since he had been gone for a while, first for Imogen’s wedding and then for his own. Dora, looking neat and trim in one of her new dresses and with her hair simply styled, had informed him at breakfast that she would spend the morning with Mrs. Lerner, the housekeeper, and that she intended to visit the kitchens too and make the acquaintance of the chef and some of the indoor servants. She intended to have all their names memorized within a few days and hoped they would make allowances for her until she did. She would be careful not to tread upon any toes, however, for she understood that some chefs guarded their domain quite jealously and resented interference even from the mistress of the house.

George had listened fondly and wondered what the servants would make of her. She had made no attempt to look like a duchess—she actually looked more like a provincial music teacher—or to behave like one. Nevertheless, she intended to be the duchess and mistress of her new home. She would do it her way.

“Even Mrs. Henry, my housekeeper in Inglebrook, could get cross if she felt I was encroaching upon her duties,” she had added.

George would wager that his servants would soon respect his wife and even come to love her. He doubted his first wife, Miriam, had known any but a very few of the servants by name. But he did not intend to be making comparisons.

He had planned to suggest a walk down on the beach during the afternoon, but the weather continued inclement. A cloudy, blustery morning gave way to a drizzly, windy afternoon, and he was forced to think of some indoor amusement instead. It was not difficult, for of course she had not yet seen a great deal of the house. He had learned during luncheon that her morning activities had taken her no farther than the morning room and the kitchens.

He took her on a tour of the rest.

First she wanted to see where everyone had stayed during the years when Penderris was a hospital. He showed her the rooms each of the Survivors had occupied, and time passed quickly as he reminisced with some stories about each of them—at her instigation.

“It may seem strange to you that I think back fondly on those years,” he said as they stood at the window of what had been Vincent’s room. It faced the sea, though he had been unable to appreciate the view. He had liked to listen to the sea, though, after his hearing returned, and he had kept his window open even on the most inclement of days so that he could smell the salty air. “There was a great deal of suffering, and sometimes it was almost unbearable to watch when there was so little I could do to ease it. But in many ways those were the happiest years of my life.

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