“Is Alice fetching me more hot chocolate?” Emma asked with an angelic smile on her face that Alice referred to as deceptive.
“I find that very unlikely, my dear,” I replied.
Emma sighed and looked back down at her food. “Hot chocolate would make my eggs easier to eat.”
“When did you decide you didn’t like eggs?” I asked her, knowing full well she had been eating them every morning for months.
She lifted her tiny chin and straightened her shoulders as she met my gaze. “When Alice allowed me to have jam and biscuits with my tea. I do love jam and biscuits.”
Mrs. Barton, the housekeeper, emerged from the door that led directly to the kitchen. She was carrying a small tray in her hands and there was an obvious glint in her eyes. I did not need to see the tray to know what would be upon it. Emma had won over my housekeeper almost immediately. She was no doubt the reason Emma had been given the jam and biscuits with her tea.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said with a small tilt of her head then walked over to stand beside Emma. I gave her a slight nod of approval as she waited for me to allow her to proceed. I doubted she’d care if I didn’t approve the treat for Emma. She took this job only after making sure I understood she would expect Emma to behave as if she were in fact the legitimate daughter of an Earl. It was clear Alice wanted Emma to have a life fitting my rank and when the time came be accepted into society. I understood this and respected it. However, it made for an odd relationship between the two of us.
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Barton!” Emma squealed with delight as the hot chocolate was placed before her and the eggs and ham replaced with jam and biscuits.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Emma. No need to worry about your figure just yet is there.” She gave Emma a wink then stepped back with the unwanted food and left the room.
Emma smiled brightly over at me. “Mrs. Barton is my favorite in the world.”
“I can accept that,” I replied. “She is indeed a wonderful housekeeper.”
“She is my friend,” Emma corrected me.
“Yes, indeed. I believe she is the truest of friends,” I agreed.
We had found a balance within these walls. Emma had brought light and energy to the everyday schedule. Finding the right countess that would fit effortlessly into the household was important. Lydia Ramsbury had appeared to be all I had believed last night. However, she was a touch too quiet, too agreeable and I feared that Emma may be too much of a personality for Miss Ramsbury.
Possibly, I was judging her unfairly, simply because my attention had been elsewhere. Miss Miriam Bathurst had been difficult to ignore. Even after she had made it clear she wasn’t interested in my title or my attention. Smiling into my cup, I imagined her meeting Emma. I had no doubt the two would be quite a pair.
I knew little of Miss Bathurst, but I was going to rectify that today. I could not settle on Lydia Ramsbury until I was sure she was the match I, no make that the match… Emma required.
Chapter Six
Miss Miriam Bathurst
Rising early had always been something I enjoyed. A good book, a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of warm toast was my ideal morning. Awakening to dress and prepare for callers was not my idea of an enjoyable morning, yet it was to be my life for a time, it would seem. The sooner I found a husband, the sooner this ended and along with it, my freedom.
With a deep sigh, I felt so clearly in my soul, I made my way to the drawing room. At home, I would often find my mother and sister in the drawing room when it neared noon. My mother would be with her needlework and Whitney would be at the pianoforte. However, here in my uncle’s home, it was much different for my aunt Harriet wanted nothing to do with needlework or music.
A plate of chocolates was by her side as she sat rather unladylike on the sofa with her slippers abandoned on the floor and her bare feet, not even covered by stockings, tucked beneath her. In her lap lay a correspondence it would seem. My aunt wasn’t one to enjoy literature; however, she did find entertainment in letters from her family in New Orleans and in the gossip papers of which my uncle didn’t approve. He often complained of the cost of such scandalous society papers, but he would then soften when Aunt Harriet would flash her smile at him.
Aunt Harriet lifted her head from the letter she had been reading and beamed brightly at me. “You are a vision. The gentlemen callers will be more enamored this morning than they were last night.” She dropped her bare feet to the floor and held the paper in her lap toward me. “You must read this. My cousin, Adelle, wrote to me about our most recent family scandal.”
“Most recent?” I asked as I reached out to take the letter from her.
“Oh yes. My family tends to find themselves in compromising positions quite often,” she replied with a touch of pride in her voice that was both scandalous and amusing. Much like her bare feet.
“Alfred said something about expecting gentlemen callers I believe within the next hour. I’m to chaperone and there is a time limit on what is proper for their visit?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“It will be awhile still yet. No man of his ilk would arrive at a lady’s home this early,” Uncle Alfred said as he entered the room. “Already in your chocolates I see, my love,” he asked his wife with a teasing tone.
Aunt Harriet popped one in her mouth and smiled as her cheeks puffed out.
“When I go broke, dear child, let it be known it was because of my wife’s addiction to chocolate and gossip papers. Both of which cost more than they are worth. Now, do tell me what it was you said to Ashington last night. It appears to have made the rounds rather swiftly.”
I felt my face heat up. How had my uncle already heard of this, if not from my aunt? Surely it wasn’t important enough for talk. It was simply a dance. Nothing more. I cleared my throat to stall when Aunt Harriet managed to finish the chocolate she had stuffed into her mouth.
“You could have asked me. I was there you know. Don’t embarrass her,” Aunt Harriet scolded him.
He looked taken aback. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass the child. I was impressed. Her first ball and she was already making the news circuit.”
Aunt Harriet rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, Alfred. Of all things.”
“Tis true! She turned down Ashington flat, they say. While all the other ladies were hot on his coattails, I assume. Not my niece,” he sounded proud as he said it and I was relieved.
“She was quite the bell of the ball. The gentlemen were all enamored but then she’s a beauty like no other,” Aunt Harriet bragged then ate another chocolate. This one she took a nibble from rather than place the entire piece in her mouth.
I did not agree that I was the bell of the ball. It was clear Lydia Ramsbury held that title and rightfully so. She was a true English beauty. I was doing my best not to appear an imposter.
“Tell me then exactly what you said to Ashington,” Uncle Alfred demanded then slapped his knee as he sat down across from me. He appeared ready to hear of a great tale.
“It was nothing really. I believe the gossips have turned it into something more than it truly was,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to rehash this.
Uncle Alfred chuckled. “No doubt. They always do, dear girl, but I want to know the real story.”