Padraig, who had been lying between the tub and the fireplace, shoved his head into Nate’s hand and, recognizing the command, he started stroking the dog. There was one being who didn’t care what had happened before. But he had to find a way to move past what he’d done and make amends to those he had harmed. And, possibly, gain permission to meet Miss Stern. The question was how.
* * *
Henrietta slid off her horse before the groom could help her down and dashed to the front door. Her small, round hat adorned with a long feather was most likely ruined. Her boots were fairly dry, but her habit was drenched.
The door opened as she approached, and Parkin grimaced as he bowed. “Is it worse than I think it is?”
“No, Miss Henrietta. There is just the matter of the red feather leaving some of its dye on your face.”
Lovely. She hoped it came off her as easily as it had come off the feather. She pulled out the hat-pin and removed the bonnet only to have red dye on her fingers as well. The hat, made of cork, looked as if it was still in good shape, but only time would tell. “I’m going to change.”
“Yes, miss.” He gazed pointedly down at the floor. For the first time she understood why Merton wished his butler was more stoic. She had not needed to know a puddle was forming at her feet.
Taking the stairs as quickly as she could, she rushed to her chamber. “Spyer, I am a mess.”
“That’s not surprising in the least. As soon as it started to rain I pulled out the tub and sent for hot water. Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
Henrietta held up the hat. “Do you think it can be saved?”
“Not the feather.” Her maid took the bonnet. “Go wash your hands and face. I hope it comes off.”
She went behind the screen and grabbed the soap. It took a little scrubbing, but soon the red dye was gone. By the time she was done, hot water was in the bathtub and she was starting to shiver. Spyer had Henrietta undressed in almost no time and into the hot water.
“I hope you don’t take a chill.”
“We almost made it. It only started to pour when we reached the entrance to the square.”
Spyer’s tightly closed lips indicated that she was not impressed. “Next time—and I assume there will be a next time—try to pay a little more attention to the weather.”
“I will. I hope I did not ruin my habit.” It was her favorite one.
“I’ll do what I can.” Her maid’s tone was not promising.
“Thank you.” It was not fashionable to thank servants, even senior staff, but her mother, the daughter of a duchess, maintained that being kind and respectful to servants prompted them to give better service, and she liked thanking people for their work. Everyone should be appreciated for doing a good job. Henrietta sank into the warm water.
“You’re welcome, Miss Henrietta. You know I will always do my best for you.”
“I do know it”—she smiled to herself—“and I do not know what I would do without you.”
“Well, pray God we never find out.” Her maid gave a rare sniff.
She really could not complain. The only time Spyer was put out was when she thought Henrietta had endangered her health. Coming back cold and wet was high on the list of things being dangerous to one’s health. “I will not tell you there is no need to be concerned. Although I do think that I was able to get warm before any damage was done.”
Two buckets of hot water later, Henrietta’s skin was a rosy shade of pink. Standing, she stepped into a warm towel. She would be fine. But she did worry about Dorie. Although she was surely receiving the same treatment as Henrietta. Shortly after her hair was dried and pinned up, she dressed in a light, woolen day dress and went down to the breakfast room.
CHAPTERNINE
When Henrietta arrived for breakfast, only Merton was there. “Is Dotty not feeling well?”
He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s the baby again. I suggested she take her breakfast in her chamber, and she agreed.” He pulled a face. “Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful at convincing her she should remain in bed for the rest of the day.”
Poor Merton. He so much wanted to protect Dotty, and she would only allow a certain amount of coddling. “I’m sure she will be fine. This baby seems very different from the first one. Do you think it’s a sign of a boy?”
“It could be, but that means nothing to me if she is not well.” He picked up a piece of toast and frowned.
“Is there anyone you could ask?” Maybe being around one of his friends who had gone through this would help him.
He stared at Henrietta as if she were an aberration. “That’s an excellent idea. Kenilworth and Rothwell will be in Town soon. I’ll visit them when they arrive.” He frowned again. “I am right that Louisa had a boy, am I not?”
