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The sense of fighting a losing battle crept over Kenver. He knew it rather well. “Perhaps we could have the chimney cleaned?”
“And cover the place in soot,” objected his father. “It was everywhere the last time.”
Kenver couldn’t deny it. The chimneys at Poldene were a tangled maze seemingly. They needed to be sorted out at some point. But not now. “Ah, Cranston. I don’t think she is the best choice to wait on Sarah. I had thought Gwen could attend her. I did mention it.” He was certain that he had, though all the conversations about his approaching marriage had been fraught.
“Gwen?” replied his mother, looking surprised. “She’s only been with us for a year. Or a bit less, I think.”
“She is near Sarah in age.” She also seemed cheerful whenever Kenver encountered her. He’d thought they would get on.
“But Cranston has far more experience as a lady’s maid,” his mother went on. “She waited on me before I hired Gireau.”
“I know, Mama, but…”
“She knows what’s proper and will be able to tell Sarah how to go on in a larger household. Sarah will benefit from her advice.”
Kenver doubted that. “I just don’t think…”
“You cannot expect me to give Sarah my dresser?” interrupted his mother.
“No. I…” The idea had never entered his mind.
“You dare!” exclaimed his father.
“No!” snapped Kenver. “Why would I? I never suggested that. I simply think that Cranston is not the best choice.”
“What would I tell Cranston?” asked his mother. “How am I to dismiss her? After all these years. It would be quite humiliating.”
“I’m not asking you to throw her out of the house.”
“Don’t speak to your mother in that tone,” ordered his father.
His mother gazed mournfully at him. “I only want what is best for you,” she half moaned. “You were meant for much greater things.”
“Greater how?” Kenver asked. “You expect me to live here at Poldene and look after the estate, do you not?”
“Of course,” said his father. He sat straighter as if ready to fight for this point.
“And so I shall,” Kenver assured him. “How would some other marriage make any difference to that?” If he could take them through the steps of a logical argument, surely they would see.
“A match that brought money and grand connections—” began his mother.
“I am satisfied with the income from our land,” Kenver interrupted. “I will increase it as I can, of course, while caring for our people.”
His mother shook her head. “A bride no one has ever heard of, with no distinction.”
“So you wished my marriage to be admired by other people. Society, I suppose.”
“She won’t be respected, Kenver.” Mama looked down her nose, eyes half-lidded. “Nor will you be, for choosing her. Not to mention the very…irregular circumstances of the marriage.”
“Respect can be earned. And my personal happiness…”
“Happiness,” snorted his father. “You scarcely know this girl. In fact, you do not know her at all. You cannot tell whether she will make you happy.”
And yet it seemed to Kenver that she would. Might very well.
“She doesn’t know how to run a household of this size or be a hostess to the neighborhood,” his mother said.
“Sarah is extremely intelligent.” This at least he was sure of. “She would be glad to learn from you, Mama.”
