She patted his hand and said, “You let me worry about what is necessary.”
For such a little bird of a lady, she was rather free with imposing her will.
For all that, Miles could not definitely say he was uninterested in making progress. He was astute enough to recognize in himself that his level of concern over Lady Grace being exposed to Mrs. Featherby was higher than it might have been. He’d not been nearly as concerned upon hearing that Lady Lavender had attended the dinner as well. They were very like—two ladies new to the town—and yet he felt he must extend his protection to Lady Grace, where Lady Lavender could fend for herself.
Chapter Nine
HADMRS.RIGHTbeen alone in her efforts to display offense over Mr. Button’s alleged flirtation toward her, it might not have gone over as well as it had. After all, had it only been her acting alone, Mr. Button might have successfully written her off as a flighty and delusional woman.
In most households, the junior staff were all too enthusiastic about seeing a senior servant knocked down a peg. The duke’s household was different though, because Mrs. Right had made it so.
The housekeeper in this household was their protector—she was the head of the table who ensured they were not worked too hard, were paid a superior wage, and had more time off than most. If one of them chose to move on to another venture, Mrs. Right wrote a glowing recommendation and got the duke to sign it. She was the healer of cuts and bruises, the sympathetic listener, and the keeper of secrets.
Her housekeeper’s closet was often the scene of somebody pouring out a frustration or outlining a hope for the future. The housemaids might propose an easier way to get through their duties, Cook might make the case for a second kitchen maid, the stablemaster might petition for a late evening plate of meats and cheeses for his grooms as they were growing boys who were always ravenous. The average butler delighted in denying requests. Mrs. Right delighted in approving them. Nobody who worked for the duke wished that recipe to be changed one bit.
Mrs. Right was the general of a loyal army both above and below stairs. The army had been issued orders to drive Mr. Button to distraction and she would lead her forces forward.
Just now, an opportunity was presenting itself. She knew the footmen and maids were at table with their tea and just ahead was Mr. Button in the corridor heading toward them.
Mrs. Right picked up her pace, pushed past him and cried, “Mr. Button! I will not tolerate these impertinences!”
She raced ahead and found her loyal staff all well-prepared to playact with her.
Thomas stood and said, “What’s he done now, Mrs. Right?”
Mr. Button hurried into the room. “I’ve done nothing! I do not know why she keeps accusing me of doing something!”
The footman and the maids frowned. Charlie said, “Mr. Button, we’ve known Mrs. Right ever so many years. She don’t make things up.”
“But she is now,” Mr. Button said. “I was just walking down the corridor doing nothing at all!”
Mrs. Right sniffed and pulled her shawl tight round her shoulders. “For the first time in twenty years living in the duke’s household, I feel unsafe.”
The maids leapt to their feet and one of the girls moved a chair between them. “Sit with us, Mrs. Right. We’ll protect you.”
“We’llallprotect you,” Charlie said darkly.
Mr. Button had got very red in the face, as Mrs. Right supposed anybody would who’d been accused of taking liberties with a middle-aged housekeeper.
“I will not stand for this, this, whatever this is,” he shouted. “I will take steps!”
He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.
“Let’s hope them steps he’s taking lead him right out of the house,” Cook said.
There was much nodding round the table and a very pleasant tea commenced.
*
GRACE HAD SOfar been to one dinner, and it was a dinner she should not have gone to. This evening was Lady Luthering’s ball and must be considered her first real foray into society. Lady Marchfield had arranged to have Felicity’s dresses made last year, but such was her aggravation with the duke she had not done it this year.
All was not lost though. Felicity had been so good as to send over all of her first year’s wardrobe. The styles were timeless so they looked as new, and they were close in size, enabling Mrs. Right to take in a bit here and there to make the fit.
Grace chose a lovely blue green silk with a delicate organza overlay dotted with embroidered white daisies. Felicity had particularly recommended it as everything that was fresh and young.
Grace paired it with an aquamarine necklace that had belonged to her mother. When Valor had been old enough to participate, the duke had laid out all of his deceased wife’s jewelry and allowed his daughters to choose what they would. It had been a rather frenetic exercise, she and Patience even scouring the floor for loose seed pearls in the fracas. It had eventually calmed when Mrs. Right pointed out that not everything could be worn at once and they would greatly increase their choices if they agreed to share.
That was probably for the best, as Valor had been only five and had gone for the gaudiest paste among the jewels, including an enameled parrot pin she wore regularly which was really very awful. Grace’s youngest sister would no doubt notice, as she matured, that her taste had not been what it could have been.
