by Joyce Alec
First printing, 2017
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311
www.LoveLightFaith.com
1
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
The Duke of Hawdon opened his eyes blearily, a little befuddled. It seemed far too early in the morning for anyone to be rousing him, and he certainly would not have brought a woman to bed. Yet, a female voice was speaking to him, rousing him from his slumber.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, good morning, Your Grace.”
"Good gracious!" Amos suddenly realized a woman was standing before him, a mischievous look on her face.
“What’s the matter, Your Grace?”
Amos rubbed his eyes, suddenly aware of his bare chest. He focused on the woman's face as a sudden realization swamped him. Narrowing his eyes, he identified her as the new housekeeper. He rolled his eyes.
“Woman, I have had enough. I have warned you before; I do not dally with my staff. Take yourself away from my room—and from my house. Your employment is terminated.”
Shock flooded the lady’s face as she stuttered, tugging the sheet a little more tightly around her. “Your Grace,” she spluttered. “By your many looks and flirtations, I assumed you cared for me.”
"Those were of your own imaginings," Amos replied curtly, wishing that he'd been a little more self-aware.
His new housekeeper was, indeed, a pretty lady—if that could be said of the hired help. He enjoyed flirting with her, but she had taken it far too seriously. “I will, however, write you a reference,” he finished, taking a little of the sting from his blow. He did it only because this was partly his fault; he should never have looked twice at the woman.
"Thank you, Your Grace," she said, quietly, her voice full of unshed tears.
He did not look at her again, waiting for the door to click shut before he got to his feet. Running a hand through his hair, he cursed himself again for his idiocy. He had been far too lax with his flirtations, knowing full well that his reputation preceded him. He liked to smile and flirt with women, even with the women in his employment. He enjoyed their blushes and sparkling smiles. However, the ton would be vastly surprised if they had known that Amos had never taken a mistress, or even enjoyed a liaison with an actress, as so many of his counterparts did.
He enjoyed kisses from a woman, of course, but he had never let it go too far. His handsome face, along with the occasional rumor about his antics, kept the ladies sighing over him. Amos would be lying if he said he did not appreciate the attention.
Of course, Amos had to marry. Being a duke, it was expected of him to produce an heir and to produce one fairly soon. His mother lived in the dowager house back in the country. Whilst she was a loving mother in all respects, she was growing restless over his refusal to marry. Amos was waiting for something. He wanted love; he wanted romance and passion — not simply a ‘good match’ as his mother and father once had. They had never loved each other, his mother had once confessed. They had gotten on well, and had been dear friends, but that was all. Amos refused to choose that for himself. His self-imposed celibacy was for good cause. His wife would be the one he loved and the only one he took to bed. Until then, let the ton talk.
Sighing, Amos dressed quickly and made his way to the dining room. He would break his fast and then set about finding himself a new housekeeper. Perhaps, his friend, Bernard, Earl Heber, would know someone.
"Good morning, Heber," he said, completely unsurprised at his friend's early appearance. Having stayed up too late the previous evening, Amos insisted that Bernard spend the night in his townhouse. The man could not have ridden home and was practically falling asleep by the time they'd made it to the front door. Amos was pleased to see a hot cup of coffee waiting for him, although Bernard looked a little worse for wear.
“Sleep well?”
Bernard groaned. “Remind me never to touch a drop of port again.”
Amos laughed, filling his plate before he sat down at the table. “I am sure I will see you with a glass of port in your hand by the end of the week,” he replied, still laughing at Bernard’s miserable face. “Although I hope, by now, you have gotten over your misery.”
“I shall never get over it,” Bernard said, stoically. “Lady Heston betrothed? It has devastated my heart.”
Hiding his grin by bringing his coffee cup to his lips, Amos refrained from rolling his eyes. Bernard was in love every week, it seemed, with a different young woman every time. He flitted from lady to lady, extolling her virtues every time he and Amos were together. "I am sure you will get over her in time," he replied. "Perhaps there may be a new beauty to catch your eye at Lady Haye's ball tomorrow?"
Bernard sat up a little straighter, a sudden spark in his eyes. “Oh yes, I had quite forgotten! Mayhap I shall meet some new, eligible young lady who will take the pain from my heart.”
“Indeed,” Amos replied dryly. “In the meantime, perhaps you can help me find a new housekeeper.”
“Another one?” Bernard asked, astonished. “What happened this time?”
"The same as the last one," Amos sighed, slumping in his chair. "There are times when these rumors about me are more of a hindrance than a help."
"The problem is that you keep hiring women who have either a pretty face or bountiful curves. And you insist on practicing your flirtation on them! Simply hire a housekeeper with a plain face and keep your flirtations for the eligible ladies of the ton.”
Amos sighed. “I suppose you are right. I shall have to be more careful in my selection.”
Nodding, Bernard toasted Amos with his coffee cup.
“To finding a plain, unassuming and completely ordinary housekeeper.”
“Cheers,” Amos replied.
2
“Godmother, you know I wouldn’t come to you for help unless it was of the greatest urgency.”
Esther waited with bated breath for what Agnes would have to say. Her situation was desperate, and she had no other way out.
Agnes let out a long breath. “Esther, I don’t know what to tell you. I cannot hide you here; this is one of the first places he would look.”
Esther dropped her head, feeling the tears coming. “I do not know what else to do, Godmother. Father has me trapped and he knows it.”
“If only your poor mama was still alive,” Agnes replied heavily.
“I know,” Esther whispered, a tear dripping down her cheek. “I miss her so.”
Esther's mother died five years ago, leaving the then sixteen-year-old as mistress of the home. Esther had taken it in stride, taking comfort from her older, married sister who had been expecting her first child at that time. Unfortunately, her father had not taken it so well, keeping to his study and eventually becoming something of a recluse, only going out in the evenings to gamble. Esther fared badly under his harsh ways. As the years passed, she was allowed less and less into society. No balls, no parties, just some visits with friends on occasion. She was grateful her father allowed her out to see her godmother, Lady Heber.
“Your father is insisting you marry Lord Thompson?” Agnes asked, quietly.
Esther groaned. “Godmother, he is almost in his dotage! He is corpulent and, from what I have heard, he has quite a temper.” Her face went a shade whiter. “I cannot contemplate life with him. I simply cannot!”
“But your father says that you must,” Agnes stated.
Esther nodded, feeling sick at the thought. “He demanded I do so. I asked him to give me time to find my own suitor, but he has refused. He deems himself the best judge of character, apparently.” She put her head in her hands, wishing she could think of a way out. “If I cannot leave my father, he will force me to go through with this marriage, Godmother! Whether it be with threats, intimidation, or guilt, I know my father will get what he wants in the end.”
Trying not to think of her kind, loving mama, Esthe
r remembered how her father once was. He had loved her mother dearly; she was sure of it. They had laughed together, and she never heard a cross word from either of them. Her sister, Josephine, had met and married Stephen before their mother had died, and Esther had never seen her parents so happy. They had looked forward to the impending birth of their first grandchild with great anticipation, but a sudden illness had taken their mother from them only a month before the child’s birth. Now, their father seemed to care very little for the young boy, even though it was his own flesh and blood.
Esther knew that her sister was pained over the loss of their father’s good character, but at least she had a supportive husband. Josephine and her family moved away from London, living near the border to Scotland on her husband’s estate, and Esther rarely saw them. Not that she could blame them, of course. She was glad she still had her godmother and did not feel completely alone.
"Mother?" Bernard blustered in, completely unaware that his mother had a guest. "Oh, I do apologize." He bowed to the lady, hardly noticing her puffy face and red eyes.
“Bernard, you remember Lady Esther Bertram, my goddaughter?”
“Of course,” Bernard replied, kicking himself for his lack of clarity and blaming it on the copious amount of alcohol he drank the night before. Its effects had still not quite worn off. “It has been some time since we have had the pleasure of your company, has it not?” he asked, his eyes on the lady.
“Indeed,” Esther nodded. “I have been caught up with my work at home, I confess, and have not visited my godmother as often as I should.”
“Well, I am sure she is glad of your company now,” Bernard smiled, directing his gaze to his mother. “Mother, I have just returned from the Duke’s townhouse. It appears he is in great need of a housekeeper, and I did say I would ask for your recommendations.”
“Alas,” Agnes replied. “I do not know of any suitable...” She trailed off, her eyes alighting on Esther.
“Mother?”
“What I mean to say is I do have one perfect lady in mind who would be an excellent housekeeper.”
“Really? Would you be so kind as to send her to the Duke’s townhouse at your earliest convenience?”
“Certainly,” Agnes replied, a brilliant smile on her face. “He will accept her without question, I hope, given my recommendation?”
“I am sure he will,” Bernard snorted. “The man is desperate for a replacement, given that he had to send the housekeeper away this morning!”
“This morning?” Esther gasped. “Whatever did she do?”
Bernard felt his face flush. “Nothing that I can share with genteel young ladies such as yourself, my dear. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall write to Amos directly.”
“Tell him that I shall bring the woman to his house tomorrow afternoon,” Agnes called after him. “I want to ensure he accepts her without question.”
“Very good, Mother,” Bernard replied, shutting the door firmly behind him.
3
As soon as he left, Agnes turned to her with shining eyes. “Don’t you see, Esther? This is your way out.”
“What is?” Esther asked, confused.
“The housekeeper. You shall become the new housekeeper!”
"Me?" Esther gasped, getting to her feet. "Godmother, how could you consider such a thing? I am a lady, not the hired help!"
Agnes took on a more serious tone. "Do you want to escape from Lord Thompson, or don't you? Well, here is the only way you can escape him and hide from your father for a while.”
Esther began to pace over the plush carpet, thinking hard. The very thought terrified her, but no more than marrying Lord Thompson did.
“I don’t know how to be a housekeeper, Godmother!”
Agnes exclaimed. "I can’t imagine it’s that hard, dear. The Duke of Hawdon is just lovely. It’s the perfect opportunity for your predicament."
“The Duke of Hawdon?” Esther gasped. “Now I am convinced that you have lost your senses!”
"He will not notice you, my dear!" Agnes cried, sitting up straighter. "Such a man does not take notice of his servants. He will expect you to run his household to perfection, as you are quite capable of doing. That will be it. You will barely see him, and, since he has never met you within society, there is no concern over him recognizing you."
Esther could hardly think straight. It would mean crossing the upstairs-downstairs divide, and not in her favor. She would have a housekeeper’s quarters, which would be slightly more comfortable and certainly more private than the other servants’ quarters. It would mean taking meals with the servants, being under a duke’s authority, and she could easily be removed from her position if she made a mistake. The whole idea seemed foolish. So why was she even considering saying yes?
“I shall need an entirely new wardrobe,” she said, flopping back down to the chair. “I do not have any gowns suitable for a housekeeper.”
Agnes’s eyes gleamed. “That is of no concern, my dear. I shall a few dresses prepared for you. Also, you shall have to spend some time learning about how to behave,” she said, gently.
“Wait!” Esther said, a thought suddenly coming to her. “What about your son, Lord Heber?”
“What about him?”
"He is friends with the Duke, what if he should recognize me?"
Agnes waved her concern away. “Bernard never looks twice at any servant here, except perhaps his valet. You need not concern yourself about that.”
Esther took a deep breath. "Society will not be inclined to welcome me back," she said, almost to herself. "If I do such a thing, there will be a lot of talk."
"All the more reason to do it," Agnes replied stoutly. "Lord Thompson will surely not wish to marry a wayward daughter with a stained reputation."
“Yes, that is true. However, it also means that other men will have reservations in courting me,” said Esther.
“Well, the choice is yours, Esther.”
Esther nodded. Agnes’s scheme was her best option. She did not want to marry Lord Thompson. She would be looked on with disgrace by society should the truth ever come out, but she didn’t care about her reputation in that moment.
“Very well,” she said, seeing the gleam in her godmother’s eye. “I shall return tomorrow, and we shall go to meet the Duke. I do hope you know what you’re doing.”
Her godmother clapped her hands together. “Excellent, my dear,” she grinned. “It shall all work out in the end, you will see!”
Esther nodded, trying to push away the feeling of impending doom.
The following day found Esther once more at Agnes’s door. She had brought nothing with her, for fear of raising her father’s suspicion. He had been in his study all morning, and she had not seen him. Esther knew that he expected her to fall in line with his demands as she had always done, but the idea of marrying Lord Thompson could simply not be borne. A part of her wished that she could have kissed him goodbye, but she knew even that would have alerted him to her change in demeanor. It was not a risk she could take. Despite everything, she still loved her father, even though he didn’t respect her choices.
“Come in, child, come in!” Agnes called as the butler led Esther to Agnes’s bedchamber. “I am quite prepared for you.”
Wishing she had even half of her godmother's eagerness, Esther tried on various dresses, all in differing shades of gray or brown. They had high collars and were the most modest dresses she had ever worn.
"Perfectly suitable for a housekeeper," Agnes commented while studying Esther.
Esther simply nodded, feeling cold with fright. She had no qualms about her ability to run a household, but Esther was frightfully nervous about her behavior. Her ingrained manners and lack of ability to drop her gaze as a servant were proving to be difficult mannerisms to change.
“Clasp your hands and gaze at his boots, whenever the Duke is speaking to you,” her godmother said, looking over her with a critical eye. “Yes, that’s right. Now,” she continued,
looking at Esther’s ornately designed locks. “We shall have to do something about your hair.”
“My hair?” Esther exclaimed, pressing a hand to her head. “What do you mean?”
"Nothing serious," her godmother replied, pressing her into a chair. "We just need to ensure you can put your hair into a style suitable for a housekeeper." She brushed Esther's long hair, the fair color of her tresses catching the light. "You will need to wear it like this every day," she replied, putting it into a simple bun. "Another way is to cut it and then tie it up. Whatever way you choose, you must be able to do such things yourself for there will be no one to help you."
“I understand,” Esther replied, glad she could do both of those hairstyles easily. “I will have to simply try my best, Agnes.”
“You shall do magnificently,” her godmother replied with a smile. “Now, you look the part, and we have everything you need here.” She gestured to a large bag. “Are you ready to depart?”
“We are going immediately?” Esther replied, feeling nausea rise in her stomach. “I don’t even have time to get used to the idea?”
"You've had a lot of time already," her godmother replied, practical as ever. "Now is time to take hold of your new future. I am sure the Duke will be vastly pleased with my selection." She grinned, hugging her goddaughter, trying to push the fear from her eyes. "You know that you will always have a home here with me," she whispered. "No matter what happens."
“Thank you, Godmother,” Esther replied, feeling a lump in her throat. “I shall miss you.”
“And I shall miss you,” came the reply. After a moment, Agnes pulled back, giving herself a small shake. “Let us go.”
4