The Worthington Wife. Sharon Page

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Hannah had done the work of two maids. Her arms ached from polishing the range until it shone like a mirror. She’d had to lay the fires in all the rooms, make the morning tea, as well as stir three pots of sauce at once, since Tansy wasn’t there to do any of it.

      And she’d had to do it perfectly. With the new earl arriving, Mrs. Feathers, the cook, was in a state. She’d snapped at Hannah for making mistakes when Hannah had been doing the work of two women at once!

      Then, while rushing through laying the fires, Hannah had gone to check on Tansy, only to find their room empty!

      Tansy wasn’t sick at all. She’d gone sneaking off somewhere.

      Hannah could have told Mrs. Feathers. But maybe there had been an emergency and Tansy had been too afraid to ask if she could have the morning off. Tansy had a large family and there was always someone sick or having a baby. Hannah had no family anymore. While Tansy complained about having a huge family who were always telling her what to do, Hannah envied her.

      The other servants were already seated at the table as she hefted the pot into the servants’ dining hall and set it on the table. Mrs. Feathers waited with the ladle and porcelain bowls. “What were you doing, girl? Harvesting the grain yourself?”

      “I’m sorry,” Hannah set the pot down as carefully as she could.

      The maids and footmen, the valet, her ladyship’s lady’s maid, the daughters’ lady’s maid, the housekeeper and Mr. Wiggins sat around the table with their tea or coffee before them. Hannah always had to make tea for everyone else—it was hours after she awoke that she got anything. She was dying for a cuppa, but she had to fetch the other food first.

      Finally she was able to slip into the only empty chair with a cup of tea for herself, just as Amy, the new parlor maid who came from London, asked, “What did ye think of him?”

      “Who?” Stephen, the senior footman asked.

      Hannah’s heart gave a little flip-flop in her chest. Stephen had a delicious voice. And he was handsome enough to be a film star, she was sure.

      “Rudolph Valentino,” Amy said pertly. “His lordship, of course. The new earl.”

      “He’s handsome,” Miss White said. Pale and red-haired, she was lady’s maid to Ladies Diana, Cassia and Thalia.

      “Did you see what he was wearing when he arrived last night? My brother works on a farm and he’s better dressed.”

      “That will be enough, Amy,” warned Mrs. Rumpole, Worthington’s housekeeper. She always wore a long black dress, and her graying hair was pulled back severely. The maids were terrified of her; Hannah was terrified of Mrs. Feathers, the cook.

      “He’s got no man of his own,” said Mr. St. Germaine, the valet. “So it looks like I’ll be dressing him. It’s like trying to mold a diamond out of an unformed lump of coal.”

      Amy giggled at that, flashing her dark eyes at the valet, who was dapper and good-looking, but was apparently quite old because he never looked at the women, not even the young and pretty ones like Amy.

      All the maids started talking about the new earl and what they thought of him. Then one asked her, “What do you think of him, Hannah?”

      Her cheeks got hot. “I didn’t see him. I didn’t get lined up for him.” She never was presented with the rest of the staff. And the new earl had shown up much later than expected—he’d telephoned to say he would be late. When Mr. Wiggins told him the staff would be presented to him and that the “lineup,” as she called it, would delay dinner, the new earl had insisted they not do it. Mr. Wiggins had put it off until this morning.

      “Hannah doesn’t have time to think about anything but her work,” said Mrs. Feathers sharply. “She has to get her breakfast finished. She’s got pots to wash. Then we’ve got to start on the food for luncheon and on the desserts for tonight’s dinner. And woe betide us if his lordship isn’t pleased with the meals. We’ll be out on our beam ends.”

      Dutifully Hannah finished her porridge. She wished just for once she could relax over a meal and not have to run about like a chicken with her head cut off. But Mrs. Feathers had been unusually worried and snappish ever since the new earl arrived.

      She truly wanted to see the new earl—she hated being the only servant here who hadn’t done so, due to her lowly rank. She’d hoped he might go into the study or the library while she was making the fires, so she could see him, but no such luck.

      After breakfast, she had to plunge her sore hands into steaming hot water to clean the pots and dishes after breakfast. Then Tansy walked in.

      “I was feeling much better, Mrs. Feathers, so I thought I would come and help.”

      “How sweet of you to volunteer your services, Your Highness,” said the cook to Tansy. “One would never know that’s what you’re paid to do. Now hurry up and get to work. Hannah can’t handle this lot on her own.”

      Hannah’s cheeks burned. She thought she was doing a magnificent job in coping. When Mrs. Feathers left them, she looked at Tansy, who wasn’t getting to work all that quickly. “Where were you? You weren’t in bed when I looked.”

      Tansy, who had wavy black hair and huge blue eyes, paled. “Did you tell her?”

      “No, but what happened to you?”

      “I went for a drive, Hannah. My gentleman took me for a drive in his beautiful car.”

      “In the morning?”

      “It was the only time he could come, and I knew I could slip out if I said I were sick.”

      “So you went alone with him in his car?”

      Tansy gave a wicked smile. “I did. He drove us out to Lilac Farm and we parked under the trees. He kissed me!”

      “Is that all he did?”

      “He’s a gentleman. A real gentleman. He said he knows he can’t expect more unless he marries me. I can tell he wants me. He’s going to propose. He’s so much in love with me.”

      Hannah sighed. “But he’s a gentleman and you’re a kitchen maid.”

      “But I am pretty—I’m not being immodest. He says I could be a film star. And he’s got scads of money. He’s got that lovely motor car, and he’s been ever so generous with me. I don’t think he cares that I’m only a scullery maid.”

      “All gentlemen care.”

      “That’s not true. They do marry girls from trade.”

      “That’s because those girls have enormous dowries.”

      Tansy folded her arms over her chest. “Look at the new earl. If a man who was nobody can become an earl, I believe it is possible to better yourself.”

      Hannah rolled her eyes. “He’s the earl because his father was the old earl’s brother, silly goose. Since girls can’t inherit, and you don’t have an earl in your family tree, you have no hope of joining those upstairs.”

      “I will if I marry a gentleman.

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