The Most Dangerous Duke in London by Madeline Hunter

Author:Madeline Hunter [Hunter, Madeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Clara woke early Monday morning. The servants she had hired would begin today, and she needed to explain their duties and her expectations. She doubted she would be done by evening.

She dressed and went down to the morning room to have some breakfast. A full sideboard greeted her. Unlike Jocelyn’s spare offerings, today there was enough food to feed ten people. She tried some of the eggs. Hot eggs, unlike the lukewarm ones Jocelyn managed.

A woman entered while she ate and placed the mail next to her plate, then retreated. Not Jocelyn. It had looked like one of the women she had considered for the housekeeper position. Presumably it was the one she had hired.

She got up and went looking for the woman. She found her in close conversation with a girl near the stairs down to the kitchen. Upon seeing her, both curtsied. The girl scurried down the stairs.

“I see you are already here, Mrs. Finley. I had hoped to greet you when you arrived.”

“Your maid let me in, and I set to it right off. I hope you do not mind.”

“Not at all. The cook is here too, I noticed. Could you tell her that in the future she need not make so much food. I live alone and do not have a big appetite in the mornings. Also tell her that it all tasted wonderful, and the coffee was excellent.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Could you let me know when Mr. Brady, the coachman, arrives?”

“He is below right now, milady, awaiting your call. Brought a groom like you asked, he said.”

She asked Mrs. Finley to send the coachman and groom up to the library. A half hour later all was resolved. The groom was hired, and Mr. Brady was sent out to investigate carriages and a pair for sale so she might have a reason for his employment.

Mrs. Finley ventured into the library as the two men left. “Will you be wanting to direct the cook on meals and such, or should I handle it?”

“I think I will leave it in your capable hands. Tomorrow we will sit down and draw up a reasonable account for you.”

“Will there be anything else now, milady?”

“One more thing. Please, sit.”

Mrs. Finley settled her stout figure on one of the chairs. Clara had hired her in part because she was a mature woman who came with good references. Mostly, however, Mrs. Finley had reminded her of a housekeeper in her father’s employ years ago.

Right now, dressed in a simple gray dress and a large white cap that covered most of her brown hair, Mrs. Finley looked worried. Clara thanked her for taking the household in hand so quickly and neatly, then broached the real topic she wanted to discuss.

Having all these servants posed a risk to some of the journal’s contributors. They would no longer visit an empty house used only for meetings. They would now come to a full household in which the journal’s activities were visible to curious eyes. A woman who wrote under an assumed name would not like the servants of London aware of her identity.

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