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19
Theo sat back, trying to get comfortable in one of the two chairs in the drawing room, nearly impossible since both lacked a decent cushion. She took the one with the spring sticking out to spare Jacinda.
The conversation with Jacinda still echoed in her thoughts. Why couldn’t Haven have just stayed in his role of the disreputable, sarcastic marquess who liked to spout insults about her eyesight? Why must he be so bloody interesting?
Haven deserved some sympathy. It didn’t even seem fair for her to continue to call him a fortune hunter. Jacinda was lame. She had no hope of finding a husband without a dowry. That alone made Theo’s heart break. He’d been forced to care for Erasmus, and even though Haven kept saying his uncle didn’t really look like the late marquess, it still couldn’t be pleasant to see him every day. The estate, the only property he had left, was in bits and pieces. And Haven had never made peace with his father before his death.
Theo knew a thing or two about estranged fathers and sons.
All of which muddled her feelings even further. She didn’t want to consider Haven and his suffering. At least not today.
“Tea, Lady Haven?” Mrs. Henderson, robust and comforting, interrupted her thoughts, standing before her holding a tray loaded with biscuits and a chipped teapot, steam rolling out of the spout.
“You are a treasure, Mrs. Henderson.” Theo nodded in appreciation. “Lord Haven has told me so on many occasions.” A small lie, one she thought the housekeeper might like to hear.
Mrs. Henderson’s plump cheeks pinked at the compliment. “Will you wish to inspect the kitchens?”
Bollocks.Theo had no idea what to even look for. “Perhaps tomorrow, Mrs. Henderson. These biscuits,” Theo said as the housekeeper set the tray on the table, “look divine.”
“I do hope you like them, my lady. My own twist on an old recipe. A favorite of his lordship since he was a lad.”
“Well, then I hope you’ve baked dozens.” Theo bit into the biscuit. “Given my husband’s appetite.”
A small chuckle came from the housekeeper. “Several dozen, my lady.”
Jacinda munched on a biscuit. “Ambrose will eat them all.”
“Have you seen Lord Haven, Mrs. Henderson? Is he wandering about your kitchen?” It was mildly embarrassing, not knowing where her husband was, even if she wasn’t supposed to care. The kitchens seemed a likely spot for him to be. Haven was always hungry.
Mrs. Henderson’s face shuttered almost immediately, the polite smile faltering. “No, my lady. I saw him walking to the village earlier. I can check with Mr. Henderson if you like—”
“I’m sure he’s gone to fetch my uncle,” Jacinda interrupted through a mouth full of biscuit.
“Poor soul,” Mrs. Henderson stated. “He’ll find him, I’ve no doubt.”
“I’m certain of it.” Theo took up the pencil and paper Jacinda had found for her. There was much to consider. Work to be done. No time to be worrying about the sot of an uncle or Haven.
Theodosia’s Enormous Endeavor.
She began to make notes. A great many of them. Though she’d no idea, really, of what she was doing. When Mrs. Henderson tried to leave, Theo stopped her. “Would it be all right, Mrs. Henderson, if Jacinda and I eat in here before the fire?”
Jacinda nodded as she sipped her tea.
“Of course, my lady. I’ve made stew.”
“Perfect. And I want a list of everything you think the kitchen requires, including additional servants. The larder must be restocked. I trust you to determine what is needed.”
Mrs. Henderson’s eyes bulged at the request. “Yes, my lady. But might I make a suggestion, Lady Haven?”
Theo stopped scratching away and looked up at her. If Mrs. Henderson decided to retire from her post, she might be forced to beg the older woman not to leave.
“Greenbriar needs a proper cook.”
Theo had assumed Mrs. Hendersonwasthe cook as well as the housekeeper. “I see,” she replied carefully.
“I was the housekeeper before,” she waved a plump hand, “but took over other duties as was needed. Not that I minded,” she hastened to add. “While I am a passable cook, my lady, I’m not what you need to run a proper kitchen. My skills are biscuits, pies, stew and the like. A marquess needs a skilled cook.”
Theo adored stew, but she could see Mrs. Henderson’s point. “I appreciate your honesty, Mrs. Henderson. And in the same spirit, I feel I should inform you I’m terrible at running a household.” She tapped the pencil against her chin. “I realize I should know such things, but I was far too busy painting. Ordering people about is really my elder sister’s forte.” She smiled up at Mrs. Henderson. “I desperately need your help. Will you stay on as housekeeper?”
