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She’d known better than to develop feelings for him.
She’d simply have to force her heart to play a new tune.
Chapter Six
“What in the scorching fires of Hades is going on in the kitchens?” West asked urgently.
“Open warfare,” replied Bernadette.
A noisy clanging of metal pots and a shattering sound like pottery hitting a wall punctuated her words. “Cook and Sebastian loathe each other. She says that he’s a despot and he maintains that she’s trying to poison us slowly.”
“I had no idea there was such civil unrest in this house. Can you put a stop to it, please? Miss Chandler and her mother will be here any moment.” West grimaced. “They’re coming to discuss plans for the wedding.”
“I can’t stop it. It was Miss Beaton who always smoothed the ruffled feathers and eased the conflict between those two.”
“Miss Beaton,” West grumbled. “Everything’s gone to hell since she left. My toast was burnt this morning, and Welker tried to dress me in mismatched boots. Not very comfortable.”
More clattering and clanging floated up from the kitchens, this time with a muffled curse or two and then a loud female voice interjecting.
“Oh no, Mrs. McClurg is involved now,” Bernadette reported. “That’s not good.”
“My housekeeper makes things worse?”
“Only Miss Beaton was able to keep the peace between Sebastian and Cook,” Bernadette replied. “And that’s not all. She had a way of easing tensions in the house. She kept Blanche from constantly swooning over Laxton, supplied me with books about insects from her club library, curbed Belinda’s oversized vanity, and kept Bets mostly in line. And she and Birdie were composing songs together. Birdie was to perform an original composition at the musicale.”
“Well, the saintly Miss Beaton quit her post in a flurry of rage and so you’ll have to make do without her.”
Bernadette narrowed her eyes. “What did you do to make her quit?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t believe him about what?” asked Birdie, looking up from the pianoforte as West and Bernadette entered the parlor.
“He says that he didn’t say anything to make Miss Beaton leave.”
“I don’t believe that one bit,” Belinda said, glancing up from the book she was reading.
They were ganging up on him. “Where’s Blanche?”
“She said something about a sick headache,” Belinda replied.
“And Betsy?”
“I told her to come in, she’s running about on the lawn taking her exercise, but she never listens to me.”
“Go and fetch her, please, Bernadette,” West said.
“No time. Their carriage is here!” Belinda jumped up from the window seat. “I can’t wait to see what Miss Chandler is wearing. It’s bound to be daring and ever so fashionable.”
“Behave yourselves, please,” said West. “That means you, Bernadette. Nothing too outlandish.”
“Who, me?” Bernadette gave him an angelic look and batted her eyelashes.
“Yes, you.”
West caught Sebastian as he was preparing to go and greet the guests. “And you, Sebastian, you know what to do.”
