Venturing into the kitchens was a highlight of Lily’s day. The warm scents usually combined so pleasantly. She actually gave thought to that when she was planning the menus. It was dreadful when fish was being cooked. She very rarely planned a menu with fish. Certainly not when any baking was to be done.
Lily wished she could find a position as a housekeeper in some large estate. But the only way to get hired as a housekeeper was to have stellar references, and no one was going to give her any references for what she was doing here at Ashburn Place. No one in a position to provide references would be willing to admit what she had been doing here. Lily stifled another sigh. But she could find a position as lady’s companion, and she might be able to do the same thing. It would just be more awkward. And fraught with the potential for more problems. It was hard to imagine facing more problems than she faced here, but Aunt Violet didn’t give her any resistance for what she wanted to do around the place. Another Lady might. And Aunt Violet had been right when she said an older woman needing to hire a companion was probably not the sweetest lady to spend time with or she would have a friend or family member to do it rather than needing to hire someone.
But Lily couldn’t stay in this limbo for much longer. With Lester hating her and banishing her from being seen, it made an uncomfortable situation for everyone. It made it impossible to actually BE Aunt Violet’s companion. And it wasn’t as though Lily wanted to stay here. She loved the Place and her aunt, but she needed to get away from Lester. Starting a fresh life somewhere else would help her overcome her grief, too, she hoped. It had already been three years since she’d lost her parents. One year since Wilbur had died. Aunt Violet was finally out of her blacks and back into her favourite colour. It was wonderful that shades of purple were allowed even in half mourning. Lily couldn’t wait to see her in the gown they had selected for the ball at the end of the house party. It was the perfect shade to complement her name, a vibrant violet. She would look lovely.
Lillian was almost certain her aunt wouldn’t consider remarriage, but there would certainly be some gentlemen vying for her hand for the dance floor at the very least. It would be lovely. Lily felt a pang and realized it was envy, but she shoved the thought away. How could she be envious of a woman’s widowhood? She just wished she would be allowed to dance, is all. She never had done so in a real ballroom at an actual ball. Just practicing with her parents in their old house in the tiny little parlour where they spent all their time.
Allowing her mind to wander back there wasn’t really a luxury she had time for, but she allowed it for a moment, as a source of comfort. The room had really been sad and shabby, Lily realized now due to the constant comparison with the luxury of Ashburn Place, but none of its occupants had cared. That room had always been full of laughter and love. The fraying furnishings had not mattered one jot.
The walls were lined with their favourite books. The view from the windows had been tranquil and charming. And they could fill that room with laughter or music and dancing every night of the week, if they had so chosen. Lily’s parents had been well loved by everyone around them. Friends would visit frequently. Their door was never barred against anyone needing help, even though they were never plump in the pocket themselves. But they had never gone hungry. Lily’s mother had the rare skill of being able to make a delicious meal with a few potatoes and a bit of lard. Lily would make sure she could do the same when she came into her dowry. She would ensure ten pounds was sufficient. She needn’t ever depend on anyone else but herself once she turned twenty-five. She could make it four more years. She blinked and realized her own concerns had imposed themselves over her memories. It was time to get back to work. This house party wouldn’t run itself.
Running through the servants’ corridor and up the stairs, Lily slipped into Lester’s library with the intention of checking to make sure the footmen had set it all to rights after what was sure to have been a rousing evening the night before.
She was shocked to encounter the handsome visiting earl rummaging through Lester’s desk.
“What are you doing?” Her tone was censorious, as though she were speaking to one of the servants, rather than one of the nobles. Lily felt her colour rising but ignored it. She was out of practice speaking to the nobility, but it didn’t matter. This man should not be going through Lester’s things, no matter how repulsive Lester might be. He was still the master of this house, and his desk was to be left untouched by anyone but Lester and his steward.
The earl bumped his head as he jerked it up to gaze at her. He blinked. For a split second Lily thought she read consternation on his face, but within the space of his blink it was gone, and she thought she must have imagined the expression. His face relaxed into a befuddled grin.
“Good morning, Lady Violet’s niece, perhaps you could help me. I’m looking for some paper. I need to have my servants send some more clothes. Didn’t expect to stay here quite this long, you know?”
It seemed to be a reasonable request, but Lily found her suspicions remained high. When the earl had first looked at her when she had entered the room, she didn’t sense any drunkenness in him. Now, the longer he talked, the more foxed he appeared. It was an unusual situation. In her experience, men became less inebriated, not more, with the passage of time. But looking for paper was a plausible reason to be digging in Lester’s desk, she supposed.
“Was there none in your room? I could have sworn I just restocked the escritoire in the room you’re staying in before your arrival.”
The earl blinked again and colour touched his cheekbones. “I didn’t even think to look there,” he admitted sheepishly.
Lily smiled, charmed into relaxing slightly. She made her way around the large desk, reaching into the cabinet behind to find a few sheets of paper for the man.
“There’s ink and a fresh pen in your room, too, if you’d like to write your message there.” She didn’t want to leave the man in Lester’s library. It wasn’t as though Lester did work in there, but it didn’t seem right in some way. She felt uneasy in the earl’s presence. It seemed as though he saw more than he ought. Even though he seemed to be worse for drink, she still felt as though he were studying her. And she needed to get out of that room. She didn’t expect Lester to rise before noon, but then she hadn't expected to find the earl up and about either. If Lester found her in his library, he’d have the servants escort her out of Ashburn Place before she could even pack a bag.
Trying not to tap her toe with impatience, she stifled her reaction as the earl sat down at Lester’s desk.
“I’m likely to forget by the time I get back to my room,” he answered with a wry smile. “Since there’s paper and ink right here, I’ll just get it over with and off before it slips my mind again.”
“Wouldn’t that be dreadful?” Lily asked, allowing the irony to drip in her tone. She was torn. She didn’t want to leave him there, but she needed to be elsewhere. Even with her distraction, she had been able to ascertain that the room had already been set to rights by the servants, so she didn’t have any need to be there. It was unlikely too that the earl would do any damage unless he spilled the ink or something. She doubted Lester would actually mind the man using his desk. She conceded defeat.
“Ring if you need anything,” she said as she backed from the room. She needed to get on with the rest of her duties.
Chapter Four
Brock blew out a sigh of relief. That young woman saw too much. And why is she always everywhere watching? It was the strangest situation. She was the viscount’s stepmother’s niece. She should be a guest of the house, not one of its servants. Brock would be relieved when he was done with this business. He couldn’t stand the viscount, and Brock was becoming too concerned about his dealings with Lester’s family connections. Brock couldn’t allow his concerns to interfere with his own plans. He needed to finish his investigation and get out of Ashburn Place. His own estates needed his undivided attention.
As he searched, he kept hi
s ears trained on the door, but his mind kept wanting to drift to thoughts of Lester’s… what was she, his cousin? Step cousin? Was that a word? Whatever she was, she shouldn’t be on his mind. She was a beautiful distraction. But his analytical mind couldn’t refrain from wondering why she was acting as the steward and housekeeper of this large house when there were clearly others that ought to be filling those roles.
His focus sharpened when he found what appeared to be a promising lead, but he was filled with disappointment to realize it was merely a receipt for payment. It had caught his eye because previously, all he had found were bills. Clearly the viscount had been overspending. But this was not unusual amongst the ton and was not worth his time to consider. It had nothing to do with his investigation.
Minutes later, he had still found nothing. His mind returned to the receipt he had found. Brock dug back through the desk and found it again. It was so unusual, maybe he SHOULD look into it a bit further. Since he hadn’t found anything else, he slipped it into his pocket. And just in time, too. Someone was coming. Brock began humming to himself and quickly scrawled out the letter he had assured the niece he had needed to write. He really needed to find out that young woman’s name.
Brock grinned to himself. His mind hadn’t been this divided in years, maybe not ever. It was unusual for him to fixate on anything when he was in the middle of an investigation. Maybe his mind was trying to tell him something. Maybe he needed to investigate HER. Brightening, he quickly wrote out another letter to be included in his first, directed to his overseer at the Home Office. If they had anything on her, they would send it to him. Encrypted of course, which would make it all the more interesting.
There were aspects to this job that he would definitely miss. The parts that used his mind were the most enjoyable. Pawing through a man’s desk was the least. Pretending to be someone else was also a trial, but not so bad. Everyone pretended, at least to a certain degree. He didn’t see anything dishonourable in acting like a drunken souse when he had only had one glass, or feigning interest in whatever useless topic the viscount was droning on about. But searching a man’s private papers struck him as dishonourable. Of course, if the man was a traitor, he didn’t deserve any honour, Brock reminded himself as he wracked his brain for where else to look. If the man was involved in the plot, there had to be proof of it somewhere. Lester wasn’t smart enough to hide it this well.
The approaching person had passed without even glancing into the library. It must have been a servant. The niece would have wanted to verify that he had finished and not created a mess. But she was probably too busy elsewhere to trouble herself with his whereabouts. Or so he hoped. He didn’t enjoy her searching gaze attaching itself to him. It made him feel like she could see right through to his soul. And that she saw everything, including his suspicions about her cousin. He wondered if she would help him if he explained everything to her. Surely she couldn’t harbour any warm feelings toward the man.
Brock pushed the thought away. It would only complicate things, and he wanted this mission to be as uncomplicated as possible. He wanted out, he reminded himself. Getting an innocent young female involved would definitely complicate things. And he shouldn’t need any help. This was certainly not the first large estate he had searched. Its size shouldn’t matter. Brock just needed to focus on the matter and figure out where the viscount would have left anything incriminating.
Maybe he already had it. Maybe the receipt really did have significance. Since he hadn’t been able to find anything else of import, Brock glanced around to ensure everything was exactly as he had found it. He scribbled on and crumpled up a couple of papers to lend credence to the length of time he had been in there. Then he went in search of the butler to send his letters home before returning to his room to study the receipt. He was grasping at straws, but he had nothing else to do. Even the estate ledgers hadn’t been in the library. Brock was going to have to search the steward’s room and office. That was going to be even trickier.
Lily watched the earl climb the stairs. His humming was surprisingly melodious for someone seemingly worse for drink. Wasn’t it rather early to be drunk already? Or late? It wasn’t even noon. When had he been drinking? Still the effects from last night, or had the man already started on the ale this morning? What a strange man. Lily couldn’t stand the taste of most alcohols, so she couldn’t understand the male preoccupation with drinking to excess. Did they really enjoy turning into bumbling idiots? It would seem so, since Lester and his friends did it so frequently. If they didn’t enjoy it, surely they wouldn’t do it. It wasn’t like bathing. Whether you enjoyed it or not, you had to do it, but no one ever bathed to excess.
But this man seemed different from Lester’s usual friends. There were times when Lily thought she had seen a gleam of intelligence in his gaze while he looked around the room. And occasionally she thought she had seen wry amusement in his features while he was with Lester’s friends. But then it would disappear as though wiped off with a sponge. Lily was beginning to think the man was an imposter. He would bear watching, that was for certain. Lily actually thought she ought to warn someone about the man, but who? Lester didn’t want her around at all; he certainly wouldn’t welcome her suspicions about one of his guests. Aunt Violet would think she was being ridiculous and would want to take away her books, saying her imagination was running away with her. The steward might be able to keep his eye on things but wouldn’t have any authority to do anything. Once again, Lily wished Uncle Wilbur hadn’t died. He would’ve known what to do. Of course, if he was there, she wouldn’t be in this situation at all. He had been well in control of his estates. Oh, he had allowed Lily to take an interest when she had first arrived, so bereft and at loose ends. But he had most definitely been the lord of his manor.
Lily was grateful that Uncle Wilbur had taught her the ins and outs of running the estates, though, otherwise, where would they all be now? Aunt Violet had never seen to it, and Lester refused to do so. Lily would have to teach Violet as much as she could before she left. Lily couldn’t care less if Lester ran himself into the ground, but she didn’t want her aunt left destitute due to his mismanagement. Of course, the steward seemed to be a reasonable man, but Violet needed to know what was what in order to be able to keep an eye on things. Lily was of the strong opinion that ignoring it didn’t make things go away, for the most part. But when it came to money, it could very well be true. If you ignored it, it could disappear on you.
She didn’t mind the work here at Ashburn Place. In fact, she quite liked it. She considered it to be her advanced education. It would serve her well when she finally received her ten pounds and was able to set up her bakery. Of course, it was all on a much grander scale here at the Place, but the principles would remain true. Watch your pennies, and the pounds could watch themselves. Treat your contacts with respect, and they would do the same. It would be heavenly. No one to watch over her. No one to resent her presence. Any profit would be hers to enjoy. She could barely wait.
All she had to do was get through the next four years. She really needed to get on with finding herself another position. The limbo she was in here at Ashburn was too grating on her nerves. Always wondering when Lester would finally throw her out on her ear. If she wasn’t prepared, she could find herself in a very awkward position. She understood that Aunt Violet didn’t want her to leave, but she needed to secure herself somewhere before Lester made his final move. She would discuss it with her aunt again soon.
But she supposed it would have to wait until the end of the house party. It would be beyond churlish to throw this at her aunt once more before the guests had even left. But, on the other hand, since her aunt didn’t go about very much in Society since Wilbur’s death, this might be the best opportunity to ask around whether anyone knew of a family looking for a governess or a companion.
Lily chewed her lip as she slowly climbed the stairs. Hearing footsteps coming toward her, she suddenly realized she was on the grand stairca
se and might be seen by anyone. She turned on her heel and ran back to the bottom. Not only was she not dressed for company, if it got back to Lester that she had been seen, she would be out on her ear without a moment to blink.
Heaving a sigh, Lily reached the servants' stairs and hurried up to her room. She ought to at least be properly dressed if she were going to be mingling at all. She should’ve ensured she had a uniform like the maids. Violet wouldn’t hear of it, but it would have made her position a fair bit easier. No one would bat an eyelash to see another servant about. But since she was neither servant nor guest, she stood out awkwardly. Lily sighed and combed out her curls. She would stop in and check on her aunt before returning to the dining room to ensure the luncheon preparations were on track. The day was getting away from her. She had spent far too much time thinking about the handsome earl. That would not do. But she wondered why he was so stuck in her head. Lester had been inviting friends home ever since she had met him, and none of them had ever appealed to her. Until now. It was the strangest thing.
Some of his friends had even been exceedingly handsome. But their propensity for drinking and grabbing the maids had been enough to mar their beauty. But this earl was different. Even though he seemed to drink to excess, he never tripped over his feet and his eyes retained their clarity. It made it difficult for her to see him as a bumbling idiot. And her heart skipped a beat whenever she encountered him. Which was ridiculous, she reminded herself. She needn’t get any such ideas. There was no room in her bakery plans for a handsome earl.
“Good morning, my darling,” Aunt Violet called out as soon as Lily scratched on her door.
Lily entered the room, laughing. “What if it was one of the maids with your chocolate?”
“Well, if it was someone bearing chocolate, I would be inclined to call them darling, too,” the countess answered with a twinkle. “But you are never late. It is exactly the time that you stop in to check on me every morning. Now, come over here and tell me what you have been doing.”
Courting Intrigue: A Sweet, Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 2) Page 3
