Page 44

“Of course. How did the roof do last night?”

“We had a few drips in the kitchen, but nothin’ that a couple of buckets couldn’t manage.” Mrs. Beckett laid her hands on top of her rounded middle. “We’re most grateful, Your Grace. I don’t know what we’d ’ave done if you and the other men hadn’t been here.”

“I’m only sorry that you have been so sorely inconvenienced,” he said. “Given the size of the ash, I should have sent someone to cut it back years ago. I have no doubt Mr. Grayson will see to it that the roofer comes out as soon as the weather improves, but in the meantime, should the rudimentary patch on the roof fail, I would ask that you have Mr. Beckett inform me or Mr. Grayson right away.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He nodded. “My wife wished to bring your family a few things to tide you over whilst you put things to rights in your kitchen.” He smiled. “I believe Mrs. Shoup was rather heavily involved.”

Mrs. Beckett turned to Rosalind, moisture evident in her eyes. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Your Grace.”

Although Rosalind had never been with child, she was aware of the physical and emotional toll it could exact on a woman, and her heart went out to this young mother. “It is very little when compared to what you are doing, Mrs. Beckett. I am quite sure that I would not be nearly as cheerful as you if my home had a large hole in the roof.”

“We have a lot to be grateful for, Your Grace. It was really only the kitchen that was badly affected, and the girls have been good to help pick up the mess.” She looked at her daughters fondly. “I told them that these are the things that make good memories.”

“So you see, I was right. You are a marvelous example of optimism in the face of adversity,” Rosalind said. “I am quite sure that if I were in your position, I would be telling everyone that a tree coming through my roof had all the makings of a nightmare.”

Her self-deprecation had its desired effect. Mrs. Beckett’s cheeks pinked, and she smiled. Her girls, however, had lost interest in the conversation around them. They were fully focused on the basket.

“What is it, Mama?” Edith inched away from the safety of her mother’s skirts, curiosity overcoming her shyness.

“Me see. Me see,” Elsie said, bouncing up and down.

Sebastian set the basket on the floor. “Come along, girls. Why don’t you pull back the cover and take a look?”

The girls hurried forward, and each took a corner of the cloth. Edith carefully peeled back her side whilst Elsie gave hers a tug.

“Gently, now.” Mrs. Beckett stepped in to save the apple that had been dislodged and was threatening to roll out.

“Apples!” Elsie cried. She was bouncing again.

“And pork pies.” Edith studied the basket’s contents in wonder. “Can we truly eat one?”

“Whenever your mother approves it, you may,” Sebastian said.

“Mama?”

“We shall have them for luncheon,” Mrs. Beckett said. “But first, what do you say to the Duke and Duchess of Kelbrook?”

“Thank you!” Their voices joined in chorus and Rosalind’s heart melted at the simple joy on their faces.

“You are most welcome, young ladies,” Sebastian said, bowing his head politely.

Elsie covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.

“Hush, Elsie,” Edith said in a big-sister tone that Rosalind recognized all too well.

“But we’s not ladies.”

Sebastian’s cough sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh, but he manfully kept a straight face.

“I believe Her Grace and I should take our leave so that you may enjoy the pork pies while they are fresh,” he said, donning his hat once more.

Mrs. Beckett nodded and slipped past them to open the door.

“Good day, Mrs. Beckett,” Rosalind said.

“Thank you for coming and for bringing the basket.”