“Will you be down for supper?” The dowager remained seated.
“I’ll consider it.”
The duke abruptly left the room, leaving Susan alone. Phoebe knitted her brow, tension and emotion rife in the air. Things at Rainswood were about to become rather different, in every conceivable way.
The dowager spoke. “Phoebe?”
She stepped in and curtsied. “Yes, ma’am?”
“More tea.”
Phoebe quickly obliged, picking up the kettle and pouring for the mistress of the house. She didn’t mind serving the dowager in the least. Although she didn’t care for society and all its nonsense, Phoebe genuinely liked Susan Rutledge and enjoyed serving her. In fact, for the most part, she found working at Rainswood rather pleasant.
There was very little pomp and circumstance, although sometimes the guests to the estate were rather rude. Phoebe always turned a blind eye and carried on with her tasks. Once her duties were done, she was given the freedom to stroll in the garden and surrounding fields, something she enjoyed more than anything else. It helped her to quell fits of emotion, which were common and natural for her fiery inner spirit.
The dowager sighed to herself. “He has changed.”
Phoebe looked from side to side, unsure if the lady of the house was speaking to her directly. “Ma’am?”
“My son. He has changed.” She looked up at Phoebe. “He is to be the master of the house now. You’ll take orders from him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t be afraid. He is a good man.”
Phoebe stood silent, unsure if she should stay or go. Finally, the dowager got up from the table, and Phoebe stepped back and waited for her to depart.
As soon as she did so, Phoebe began to clear the table. Her very best friend, Caroline Wood, approached. “That was rather tense,” she said under her breath.
“He must have been through so much.” Phoebe couldn’t help exuding sympathy. Despite her fieriness, she was a compassionate girl.
“You should have seen him before he left.”
“What was he like?”
“Always hunting in the fields. Galavanting about. He also had a smile on his face.”
“The wars will take that away.”
McCarthy entered, his posture as stiff as a pole. “No more talking, girls. Continue your duties.”
They both replied, “Yes, sir.”
In the silence, Phoebe and Caroline continued to clear the table. She couldn’t help wondering how life was going to change now that there was a new duke under the roof of Rainswood. Phoebe had never met the former duke, although she heard that he was a very kind and generous man. With Susan Rutledge running the house, everything ran like clockwork. There was no guessing what the day’s duties might entail. Now that she was proposing to leave, and Adam Rutledge would be in charge, what was her life going to be like? Would she not enjoy the same freedoms that she had before?
McCarthy reentered and began to inspect the sideboard, and Susan Rutledge reentered as well, this time with a shawl around her shoulders.
“McCarthy?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head.
“Don’t bother with the supper I planned for tonight. I think my son has retired to his room for the remainder of the day.”
Phoebe was mildly disappointed. She heard that an extraordinary feast of duck a l’orange was to be served.
McCarthy replied, “Very well, ma’am.”
“I shall take Nile’s courgette soup. Serve it in my room, with the rosemary bread.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Susan Rutledge departed, and Phoebe frowned. The duke wouldn’t be eating at all? Surely, he’d need something. He was a rather large fellow and a soldier. Phoebe would enquire whether something should be brought to his room, as well.
She looked to Caroline, who shrugged her shoulders. McCarthy spoke. “You heard what the dowager said, girls. One of you see to the serving of the soup, and the other enquire whether the duke cares to dine.”
They both replied, “Yes, sir.”
Phoebe secretly hoped that she would be the one to ask the duke, although she’d be impossibly nervous. Even though their eyes met briefly, she was intrigued by the stern soldier. There was something that he was hiding behind those sad, angry eyes. Phoebe was always intrigued by people. At night, she read books to understand different places and circumstances better. It was her only escape. She knew that she’d be a servant for the rest of her life, and books offered her a rare glimpse into what other lives must be like.
Seeing as it was that rare time of the day when Phoebe’s duties were on pause until supper, she indulged in her customary walk. The sunny morning had given way to clouds and grey skies. Phoebe didn’t mind it so much, so as long as she could be in the fresh air.
Walking through the garden, Phoebe smelt the fragrant roses and fresh grass. It was her favourite time of day. Walking was effortless for her, with her lithe figure and energetic spirit. Her red hair was pulled neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her brown eyes sparkled as she passed every display of flowers and shrubs.
For a moment, she turned back towards Rainswood. She knew which room the duke was in. It was the master suite on the top floor. Since the former duke’s passing, the dowager had retreated to a smaller room, which she stated was more efficient. There, in the grand window, Phoebe saw the duke looking out solemnly, resting his elbow on the window frame.
For a moment, she merely watched him, intrigued by what he might be thinking. Then, his eyes turned towards her, and Phoebe quickly turned with a start, feeling a flush come to her cheek. She was mortified. The duke had caught her spying on him. She quickly walked away, hoping that he wouldn’t think much of it.
Just then, she ran into the head stableboy, William Andrews. He was a young fellow, and Phoebe already knew that he fancied her. But he just happened to be younger than Phoebe’s one and twenty years, and she could never see herself marrying a younger man. “Phoebe, I fear it might rain soon.” William was a skinny boy, with blonde hair and brown eyes, like her own.
“That can’t stop me.”
“You do have a mind of your own.”
“If you didn’t know that already, then I’d say you don’t know me at all!”
“Stubborn girl. If you simply married me, I’d put a stop to that.”
Phoebe cocked her head to the side. “And that’s exactly why I won’t marry you.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Besides, you’re no older than a schoolboy.”
William huffed before charging after her. Phoebe screamed and began to retreat. It was custom for the two of them to be playful in this way. William would chase Phoebe into the field while she screamed. But she was no wilting flower. Phoebe was fast, and William seldom caught up with her. She enjoyed the exertion and the flush that it brought to her cheek. Finally, William gave up. “Someone will make a woman out of you, even if it’s not me.” He retreated to the estate.
“I’d like to see someone try!”
Phoebe stood there, trying to catch her breath. She looked back to the estate once more, and yet again, the duke was in the window, watching her. Phoebe cleared her throat and looked away, beginning her relaxed return back to the house. She dare not look back up at the duke’s window. He perhaps already thought of her as reckless and wayward. Phoebe knew that she could prove him otherwise. She was a conscientious worker and always completed her tasks with care. Phoebe hoped that she might please him in this regard.
As she walked, she couldn’t help thinking of the exchange between the former duchess and the duke. She’d never seen Susan Rutledge so frustrated. She was always a good-natured lady of the house. But she seemed perfectly content to leave Rainswood and begin a new life. Was the mother blind to her son’s pain? She spoke of duty, but Adam Rutledge seemed to want to have nothing to do with it. So strange, how society people had to approach the world. Phoebe’s duties were simple. She preferred it that way.
&
nbsp; Entering the estate through the back door, Phoebe stepped into the kitchen and found Niles peeling courgette with a sharp knife. She hoped that he was making enough to serve the servants, as well, because Phoebe always loved that warm and soothing soup.
Niles seemed tense. “From now on, this estate will be fuelled by meat and potatoes.”
“What do you mean?”
“The duke. His tastes aren’t as refined as the lady of the house.”
Phoebe said humorously, “I grieve for the duck a l’orange.”
“No one grieves more than I.” Niles shook his head.
It was true that Susan Rutledge had exceptional taste. She always preferred simple yet lavish meals. Vegetables and fruits were taken from the garden, while Niles would go to the finest local butchers for their meat. Perhaps things were about to become simpler. And darker.
Chapter 3
As the day progressed, Phoebe kept herself busy dusting and mopping, customary tasks in the late afternoon. It continued to be grey outside, and each time Phoebe looked out the windows, she didn’t mind it so much. Grey days meant that one could stay inside all day, light a fire, and curl up to a good book. These were all things that she cherished, along with her afternoon walk.
There were no further sightings of the duke. Once he returned to his room, he did not come back down. Phoebe tried not to think of how he was looking at her when she was in the garden. She wished to make a good impression on him, but he was perhaps already making assumptions about her spirited character. She walked into the kitchen to see how Niles was getting on with the courgette soup.
“It smells delightful in here.”
Niles put up a hand. “Courgette, onion, garlic, heavy cream, broth, and a secret ingredient.”
“Are you going to tell me the secret?”
“Then it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?” Niles winked at her, and Phoebe smiled. Were she not a maidservant, Phoebe dreamed of being Niles’ sous chef. It would be remarkable to work with one’s hands, smelling delicious food all day long, and learning about new recipes. Phoebe had a little book in her room where she’d jot down notes about various recipes, but every so often, there was a secret ingredient that Niles wouldn’t share.
McCarthy entered the kitchen, carrying a ledger. “The dowager is requesting the soup. Is the rosemary bread prepared?”
Niles nodded his head. “It’s fresh out of the oven. Phoebe, if you’d do the honours.”
Phoebe walked over to the oven and put on two mitts, pulling the tray from the hot oven. The smell of fresh rosemary was transfixing. Phoebe breathed in deeply, almost able to taste the bread from the aroma alone. She placed the tray on the butcher block and took off the mitts.
McCarthy walked over to inspect. “One of your masterpieces, again.”
“I do my best. It is the staff of life, after all.”
“Phoebe, take that silver tray and ladle the soup. I want it carried up to her suite at once.”
“Yes, sir.”
Phoebe did as she was told, carefully ladling the velvety green soup into a bowl with two rosemary rolls to accompany it. There was also a small crystal glass used for white wine. Once the meal was assembled, and McCarthy approved with a nod of the head, Phoebe exited the kitchen and made her way up to Susan Rutledge’s room, taking precautions not to spill one drop. Phoebe had a steady hand, and although she was diminutive in size, she had a great deal of strength in her arms from all the dusting and mopping.
Making her way down the hall, Phoebe couldn’t help admiring the paintings lining the walls. They were oil paintings of the Rutledge family. The family was a good looking lot, and Adam was perhaps the best looking of all.
The door to Susan Rutledge’s room was already ajar, and Phoebe squeezed her way through. The dowager’s room was stately, to say the least. The finest embroidered drapery dangled from the windows, in a soft beige. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the furniture was French renaissance. Susan was seated at her little table by the window, where she preferred to take supper when she dined in her room. There was a bud vase in the centre with a white rose and a lit candle.
“Place it right here, Phoebe.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Phoebe gently set the tray down on the table and stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her. She would wait for orders to depart.
“This smells divine.” The dowager leaned over the bowl of soup. “Niles has outdone himself.”
“They picked the courgettes from the garden this morning, ma’am.”
“I have no doubt.” Susan looked up at Phoebe, and her grey eyes were searching. Phoebe still didn’t know whether to stay or go. “I’m quite happy that I brought you to Rainswood, Phoebe.” She unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap.
“I am, as well.”
“I hope that you’re happy here.”
“Indeed, ma’am.”
“Pardon me if I chat for a moment.” Susan took a small spoonful of soup and sipped it. She closed her eyes in rapture. “I’ll never forget when I first met you. You were working at the Duke of Clarence’s estate.”
“I remember it well.” The old, salty duke was Phoebe’s first employment. She was far less happy there than she was at Rainswood.
“What I admired was your spirit.” The dowager split apart her roll and carefully buttered it with a knife. “There was something different about you. Something that I admired. The Duke of Clarence was a difficult man, if you recall. But you remained warm and dutiful all the while. I must admit that that’s why I brought you here.” Susan took a bite of the warm, crusty bread and again closed her eyes in appreciation. “In all honesty, I brought you here because of my son.”
Phoebe knitted her brow. She wasn’t sure what Susan was implying. “What do you mean?”
“I knew that it would be a difficult transition for him coming back to Rainswood from the wars. He would have to face a new set of duties. I must admit that I thought he’d come home much sooner, but I’m merely happy that he is alive.”
“It is a blessing, ma’am.”
“I knew that you would bring new life and energy to the estate, and I very much wished my son to feel that infectious energy. But please understand, I didn’t foresee him returning in such a sullen manner. I thought he’d be … more like himself.”
“It must be so terribly difficult. I can’t imagine what he is feeling at present.”
“Loss. Heartache.”
“Indeed.”
“I imagine that he will change with time. He’ll become the son that I once knew.” The dowager took a sip of her soup and then laid down her spoon. “But remember always to be your infectious self, Phoebe. He needs to see you smile; he needs to feel your warmth.”
“I would be happy to share that with him, ma’am.”
“Good.” The dowager smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to enjoy the rest of my soup.”
Phoebe bowed her head. “Of course.” She slowly made her way out of the room before Susan’s words stopped her.
“Oh, Phoebe.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Would you be so kind as to go to the duke’s room and ask him if he needs anything?”
Phoebe felt her heart pound in her chest. “Yes, ma’am.”
A Lord's Flaming Return: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 23