Page 58 of Duke in Darkness

“I don’t know,” said Lilian grimly. “But I’m about to find out.”

Shoving open the parlor door, Lilian marched inside. Immediately, the two young maids stuffed something behind their back, their cheeks bright red, and bobbed curtsies.

“Your Grace,” said one. “We, ah, didn’t know you were back.”

“Obviously. What is so amusing that you have both stopped working to laugh at?”

The second maid gulped. “Er…nothing, ma’am.”

Lilian tilted her head. After the morning she’d had so far, her emotions were high and her temper felt inches from exploding. “Show me. At once.”

With extreme reluctance, the first maid eventually handed over what they’d been looking at. A blasted scandal sheet.

Her heart sank. Yet she forced herself to smooth the paper.

Oh God.

Gabriel drawn as a minotaur. Labeled the Duke of VEXton. Apart from, and scorned by, ‘Polite Society’.

Fury overcame her at the insults, and she turned to the maids. “I see you, and no doubt other members of this household are still unclear on what is respectful and appropriate. Go now, and gather every other maid, every footman, Norris, and Mrs. Barrett. Advise them that I wish to speak to everyone, in the entrance hall beside the stairs. Ten minutes.”

“But, Your Grace, people are busy,” said the second maid.

“You weren’t,” said Lilian sharply. “And nothing is more important than what I am about to say. So if you value your position here, you will do as you are asked.”

Dawn coughed, her eyes glinting, and the two maids fled the parlor.

“I’ve well and truly prodded the hornet’s nest now, haven’t I?” said Lilian, as she flung the revolting drawing into the fire.

Her maid sniffed. “Long past time. There are good servants about, but some need a reminder regarding loyalty. Norris and Mrs. Barrett have clearly been lax in their duties. Maids, reading scandal sheets and mocking their employer instead of working. My word.”

“I’m so angry I could scream.”

Dawn shook her head. “No. No screaming. You must be as tough as old boots, even if you are shaking in them. Tis the duchess who rules the roost, not the housekeeper or butler or servants. They need a stern reminder.”

Ten minutes later, Lilian stood on the fourth step of the main staircase, looking down at a sea of faces in the cool and cavernous entrance hall. Nothing had ever been more daunting. And yet even before she’d said a word, several things made it clear that all was not well. The footmen’s livery looked faded and slightly shabby, and the maids wore aprons that were almost gray, their dresses a little threadbare. While some looked at her with polite expectation, far too many appeared disinterested and resentful.

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Good afternoon, everyone.”

A few murmurings sounded in reply.

“I have been remiss in not gathering you together before now, and I apologize for that. But I am taking this opportunity to clarify for all of you, at the same time, what my expectations are so there may be no more misunderstandings.”

The murmurings increased, and too many of the servants wore startled expressions. But most looked back at her and nodded, and she took courage from that. “Firstly, I can see we have a clothing issue. All servants in this household should be presented just so. Therefore, I will arrange a new set of livery for each footman, and quantities of calico and linen so that each maid has a new dress and apron.”

Cheers rang out, and Lilian smiled briefly, before holding up a hand to silence them. “However. Do be aware, that what has been acceptable in the past will not be so in future. I expect every room in this townhouse to be as neat as a pin, even the ones not being used. I expect menus to be observed to the letter. I expect no unreasonable delays when myself or His Grace orders a carriage. I expect that no items will go missing. I expect every servant who is employed here wants to be, and behaves as they should…”

She paused to cast a stern eye over the group. Yes, tough as old boots would indeed be required. “It has come to my attention that copies of a certain scandal sheet are in this residence, and I am extremely disappointed. You work for the Duke of Exton. Your first loyalty is to him and no other. The current duke, not previous ones. I expect discretion and industriousness. Disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Mrs. Barrett sent her a sour look. “Disrespect? His Grace punched a gentleman in a ballroom. Just for minding his own business—”

“Incorrect,” Lilian said icily. “I’ll thank you to cease spreading that particular lie. I was there, you were not. That particular gentleman, and I use the term very loosely, said the worst, most terribly offensive things about the Battle of Bayonne. His Grace had no choice but to defend his honor, and that of the British Army.”

“But he got captured,” called a footman. “Can’t be a very good colonel if you get captured.”

“No!” roared a furious voice, and everyone turned to see Hobbs shouldering his way through the crowd to the steps. “His Grace got captured because he was a colonel who cared so much about his men, that he helped them all to safety before himself. I was the last one he saved before the French arrived. There were ten of the blue coats. And still he fought and fought, until one slashed his thigh and he lost his balance. After that, the French tortured him for three days, but still he didn’t break. Not one army secret, even when they cut his face and burned and crushed his foot. So don’t any of you damned fools dare say another word against him. His Grace is the bravest and best of men who sacrificed everything for king and country.”

“It’s true,” added a footman from the back. “Me and some lads moved chairs for His Grace today, he was soaking his foot and we saw it bare. What them Frenchies did to him was evil…that he can even walk is a miracle.”