Mrs. Burkard shook her head. “This is all too much, milord,” she said. “I wouldn’t even be able to obtain employment in a fancy household such as this.”
“I do not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Colin remarked, “but you must accept that I intend to ensure that you will always be taken care of.”
“We do not wish to be a burden.”
Colin gave her a reassuring smile. “That is impossible, Mrs. Burkard.”
His mother spoke up. “Did you bring your trunks with you?”
Mrs. Burkard lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’m afraid I don’t own any trunks,” she replied. “We don’t have much in the way of material possessions.”
“There is no shame in that,” his mother responded. “It will save us the trouble of having to unpack.”
Dickson stepped into the room. “The guest bedrooms have been readied, and I took the liberty of acquiring a maid to assist Mrs. Burkard.”
“Thank you,” his mother said. “That was most thoughtful of you.”
Colin gestured towards the doorway. “Would you care to see your rooms?”
“I suppose so,” Mrs. Burkard said, though she looked unsure.
Peter didn’t share his mother’s reservations; he was practically dancing on his toes. “I get my own room?”
“You do,” Colin said.
“Does it have a bed?” Peter asked eagerly.
Amused, Colin replied, “It does.”
“I’m hoping the straw will be dry in the mattress,” Peter said. “I do not like sleeping on wet straw.”
Colin’s mother looked aghast. “You slept on a wet mattress?”
Peter nodded. “Our roof leaked, and the straw would soak up the water from the ground.”
Colin clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You will be sleeping on a feather mattress,” he informed the boy.
“I can’t wait to lay on it!” Peter paused. “Do you suppose my clothes will dirty the bed?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Colin replied. “Besides, we have a tailor coming tomorrow to get you a whole new wardrobe.”
“And I will see to a modiste for Mrs. Burkard,” Colin’s mother added.
Tears flowed down Mrs. Burkard’s cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Allow me to escort you to your bedchamber,” his mother said. “Then I shall see to getting you a bath.”
Peter groaned. “I hate baths,” he declared. “The water is always so cold at the pond.”
Colin chuckled. “The baths here are a much different experience, I can assure you of that.”
As they walked out into the entry hall, Mrs. Burkard’s eyes wandered over the walls with a sense of awe.
“I shall speak to Mr. Brown about acquiring a more suitable cottage for your needs,” Colin remarked.
“I do hope it isn’t too grand,” Mrs. Burkard stated. “Peter and I don’t need anything fancy. Just a roof above and a place to lay our heads.”
“I shall see to it,” Colin responded, “but until then, you are our honored guests.”
