Page 18 of Waiting for Love

Christmas party for the staff. Please see to this.

How long did it take to plan such a thing? Jasper’s staff was huge. Was there to be music? Spirits? Gifts for any little ones? Where on earth did one start?

He struggled to decipher Jasper’s scribble, then settled back with an irritated sigh. Jasper thought the staff deserved a special revel since the old earl’s death had meant there had been no celebration the previous year. A special revel? Benjamin had never thrown a damn party in his life.

Chest burning, he set that aside and turned instead to the record of the month’s rents, summarizing Wentworth’s report in his own account book. Bradwell had wisely hired an assistant to handle collections. It put a bit of distance between the steward and the tenants’ disgruntlement—no one liked rent collectors. Wentworth was a good man. His numbers always tallied. Benjamin tapped his pencil against the page. Jack Fowler had missed a payment.

He rubbed his chin, considering. Was it the first time or a pattern? He’d have to look into past reports and then pay Fowler a visit.

He shut the account book and returned to the problem of the Christmas party. He could not put this off. The hardworking staff deserved a decent celebration.

A potential solution occurred to him. No doubt Olivia was as cozy with the household as she was with the tenants. He groaned inwardly, mistrusting his own motives—their paths had not crossed in weeks. He pulled out his pocket watch. It was nearly 11:00. She was likely to be back from her morning ride.

He returned the pile of papers to the cabinet, then left the office to search the house.

Likely she could be found in the billiard room, but he would not approach her there. He hoped the parlor, but it was empty. He moved on to the ladies’ sitting room. There they all were: Olivia, Georgiana, and Alice. He squelched his disappointment. Of course, he hadn’t wanted to find her alone.

He was interrupting something. The ladies were all laughing the way men only did when foxed. While he hesitated in the doorway, Georgiana threw up her hands, letting knitting needles and some misshapen yarn thing slide from what little lap she had left onto the floor.

“It is a sock, not a cap!” she exclaimed, with exaggerated indignation.

“It can’t be!” Alice teased. “You’re having a baby, not a cow.”

Olivia snorted, then dissolved into giggles. They were, all of them, adorable.

“Mr. Carroll?” Alice said, noticing him first. “Is something amiss?”

“No. Well, yes.” Four heads were better than one. “Lord Iversley wishes me to…to plan a Christmas party for the staff.” He turned up his hands to communicate his helplessness. Georgiana and Alice regarded him expectantly, as though awaiting an explanation of the problem, but Olivia let out a huff.

“He didn’t give you a clue how to go about it, did he?” She pursed her mouth. “He probably has no clue himself.”

“Please say you do. I’m at a complete loss where to start.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your job is merely to loosen Jasper’s purse strings. Peters and Mrs. Hardy do the planning.”

The butler and housekeeper. He should have thought of them first, rather than envisioning a tête-à-tête with Olivia. “Good. I will speak with them. Thank you.”

She went on, “Bradwell’s role was always simply to stand between them and take the battering so they would not injure each other.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I imagine you are to throw around the words ‘budget’ and ‘expense’ then accede to most of their wishes.”

“Most?”

“You’ll have to refuse a few things, or they will think you and Jasper are both daft.”

“I see.” Surprisingly, he did. He didn’t mention that it was to be a special revel, not wishing to remind them all of the sorrowful anniversary. He’d use his discretion when it came to granting requests. “Thank you. I’ll find them directly.”

He tore himself away from the cozy gathering and headed to the stairs. Going down, he met Reg coming up.

“Ah, there you are,” Reg said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Reg cut him off. “No apology needed. I just wanted to ask if you’d heard from Jasper recently.”

“Iversley has not communicated with me. No. Why?”

“Then I just wanted to inform you that Jasper”—he put a slight emphasis on the name—“will be home in two days. Apparently, Crispin’s cottage is a little too rustic, and as Vanessa has forbidden him to fix anything, he is returning to his creature comforts posthaste.”

Benjamin tried to glean from Reg’s expression if there was an actual problem. He hoped the honeymooners had not fallen out. Thankfully, Reg appeared more amused than worried.