by Rebecca King
“Call me Aidan.”
“I can’t. It isn’t my place to,” she gasped.
She was thrilled but equally appalled. To do so would put her in such a difficult situation she couldn’t even contemplate the notion. Or what someone like Edwards would do if she caught Petal calling the master by his Christian name.
“I am telling you to. And, unless you have any stringent objection, I shall call you Petal, just like everyone else. I refuse to stand on ceremony in my own home. While I shall not be so inclined toward any of the other staff, seeing as you are spending so much time helping out here, we shall have this arrangement between ourselves.”
Petal hesitated. A thousand and one objections were going through her mind, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“If you are sure,” she whispered hesitantly.
“I am certain, Petal,” he said with a firm nod.
The sound of her name on his lips was sublime. It brought forth a shiver of awareness that was so intense that tears stung her eyes. It was everything she had wanted to hear; well, almost everything. But beggars could not be choosers. He wasn’t going to call her Biddeham or Petunia. He was going to call her Petal, like everyone else of her acquaintance did. She felt incredibly touched if still a little perturbed by the thought.
“Would you like me to fetch your tea?” she asked, aware that Edwards hadn’t returned with the tray she had been sent to get over an hour ago.
“I am not hungry,” he murmured.
“You need to eat,” she reminded him. “Without the proper sustenance, you won’t have the energy to recuperate properly.”
“I just don’t have much of an appetite at the moment,” he replied.
Petal studied him. It wasn’t her place to push, but there was just something bereft in his gaze that reminded her of someone who was floundering in a world of confusion. Her gentle nature refused to allow her to just return to her duties and leave him hungry.
“What do you like to eat?”
Aidan looked at her and thought. “I like pies; all sorts of pies. Meat or fruit, I don’t care. I also like carrots and boiled potatoes.”
“Do you like cake?”
“I like seed cake, and lemon cake,” he declared. “With lashings of cream.”
Petal smiled. “Then I shall see what I can rustle up in the kitchen and bring some morsels for you to try.”
He peered at her. “You are not going to let me off the hook, are you?”
Petal shook her head slowly and began to smile. She sensed from the rueful look in his eye that he wasn’t angry with her for her subtle bullying. In fact, she suspected he quite liked it.
“You need to try to eat something with your tea so you can replenish the strength you used getting to the chair. That way, should you decide to try to walk again tomorrow, you will have the energy to be able to do so.”
Before she could get up, a disturbance in the doorway heralded the arrival of someone whose voice Petal didn’t recognise.
“Oh, get out of my way,” a waspish voice snapped loudly.
“Oh, no,” Aidan moaned beneath his breath.
“What is it?” Petal asked worriedly.
From her position in the window seat she couldn’t see who had just arrived but Aidan could and, if his deep groan was anything to go by, the visitor was less than welcome. She glanced curiously at him when he didn’t immediately answer. When he did speak, she suddenly wished she was anywhere else.
“It is my mother, the dowager,” he replied quietly.
Petal gasped and looked around for a way to escape but, unless she was going to jump out of the window, there was nowhere she could go.
“Quick, get me a blanket,” he whispered, motioning frantically toward the chaise beside them.
Petal shot to her feet and snatched the cover.
“I will bring you something to eat when they have gone,” she murmured as she tucked it around his legs.
Aidan didn’t appear to notice. His attention was focussed on the slight altercation at the door where Edwards was trying to back into the room burdened with a heavy tray full of tea-things. The dowager was trying to push past her to get into the room.
They are causing trouble even before they are in the room, he mused as he watched and waited to see who would win.
“I have to say that your servants in this house are shockingly inept, Aidan," his mother griped as she stalked into the room.
“What are you doing here, mother?” Aidan sighed dourly.
He watched the snooty young woman accompanying her glare around the chamber as though finding it too menial to accommodate her. His temper began to boil. Jerry had said that the dowager had promised to stay away for at least a week to allow him time to settle in. Why had she turned up so early? He had only been home a few days.
“It is highly inappropriate for you to be in here, and you know it,” he declared with a scowl.
“Oh, tosh. I am your mother. How can it be inappropriate?” the dowager demanded.
“Because I am not a child in the nursery anymore,” Aidan snapped. “I am a grown man; an eligible bachelor. It is not appropriate. How dare you stalk into my bedchamber like this?”
“Oh, don’t be so pompous,” the dowager said piously.
Aidan stared at her. If there was one person who was the epitome of pomposity, it was the dowager. To hear her accusing him of her primary fault just stoked his temper even further.
“It is not pompous to expect you to preserve my privacy. Get out!”
He directed this last aside to the companion, Theresa Hornsby, who had yet to do anything other than glare evilly at everything, and everyone. She didn’t seem to notice, however, because she was too busy running a gloved finger across the mantle to check for dust.
“Is there a problem?” Aidan demanded, his eyes daring the companion to raise an issue with the cleaning.
Miss Hornsby jumped when she realised his demand was meant for her. She glanced cautiously at the dowager, but remained silent.
Aidan turned his attention to the dowager. There had never been much love lost between mother and son. Both Jerry and Aidan had been raised by nannies rather than parents for the most part, and it had resulted in a distance that neither had been able to bridge. That showed in the lack of cordiality between them that lowered the temperature within the room to near freezing.
“Leave us,” the dowager snapped at Petal.
“Petal was just reading to me,” Aidan announced to nobody in particular, then cursed himself for his need to explain her presence in his room. Even though he had done it instinctively to protect Petal rather than keep his mother informed, it galled him that he had been forced to.
“That pie would be lovely,” he murmured gently to Petal.
In contrast to the menacing scowl, he landed on the dowager; he turned to Petal and issued her an almost loving smile that made the dowager freeze. She looked at Petal, a mixture of thoughtfulness and horror on her face.
“Petal? What on earth is Petal?” She glared around the room as though expecting one to pop up beside her.
Aidan knew it was a ruse, though. The dowager knew exactly who Petal was because he had been looking at her while he spoke. The dowager was waiting for him to explain her position in his house, but he didn’t oblige. Instead, he watched Petal bob and hurry toward the door without a backward look.
“Before you go,” the dowager called after her.
Petal froze and turned to look at the rather formidable woman whose dark attire was as black as the scowl on her face.
Dragging her stole off her shoulders, the dowager hung it limply from the hand she held out to one side.
“Take this,” she ordered without taking her eyes off Aidan.
Aidan glared at her. He opened his mouth to tell Petal to leave it, but at the last moment kept quiet. Instead, he watched Petal picked it up off the floor and hurry out of the room.
“That was ill-mannered even for you,�
� Aidan growled in disgust. He knew his remark had hit home when the dowager’s eyes flashed in temper. Rather than enter into any argument, his mother merely sucked in a deep breath and ran her gaze down the length of him.
“I thought you were supposed to be in bed,” she murmured.
While she waited for his answer, she stalked arrogantly around the room, inspecting each piece of furniture as though critiquing it for royalty.
“What do you want?” Aidan demanded. “Can I remind you that there is no knocker on the door for a reason? I am not receiving visitors for the time being. Especially unwelcome ones.”
“I am not a visitor, Aidan. I am your mother. You should welcome me at any time,” she reported crisply, and in defiance of his not so gentle hint, sat in the seat Petal had just vacated.
“To what do I owe this intrusion?” Aidan demanded.
“I wanted to see how you are progressing,” his mother replied, studying the thick blanket covering him from the waist down.
“I didn’t realise you were up and about so soon, or that you wouldn’t bother to dress when you did get up.”
“I am not up and about as you put it. If I were, I would be fully dressed and in my study downstairs. I am recovering well enough, so got out of bed,” he reported briskly.
If this was what they had visited for, he was happy to oblige them with an update, if only to get rid of them. He didn’t immediately pay any attention to the soft chink of pottery behind him. That is until Edwards slid a cup and saucer onto the small table beside him. He watched her serve Miss Hornsby, and his mother, before helping herself to a cup. As casually as if they were regulars, she then took a seat on the chaise next to the companion as though she had every right to join them.
“You have work to do,” Aidan snapped.
Edwards’ cup was held suspended in mid-air. She didn’t take a sip. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, she lowered the cup back to the saucer.
“I don’t think it is entirely appropriate for staff to be drinking tea with employers, do you? Get back to work. I don’t believe you are family, Edwards. You are not a part of this conversation,” Aidan drawled. He lifted a querulous brow in her direction and almost relished the moment she tried to ignore him. If she did, he would take advantage of the dowager being here to throw them all out on their ears.
“Oh, don’t be such a bore,” the dowager chided.
“I am not a bore. I am just aware that you like those ridiculous social strictures of yours. It is not entirely appropriate for your companion, or my nurse, to be taking tea with us. They are staff. Since when have you fraternised with employees?”
The point made, he saw his mother consider the contradiction in standards. Aidan saw the flash of temper hidden in the depths of her calm grey eyes. It reassured him that his point had hit home and had upset her.
To his disbelief, she still didn’t seem inclined to want to give up without a fight, and simply leave. After taking a cautious sip of her tea, she levelled a blank look on him that warned him trouble was afoot in his house once again. Aware that this was nothing short of a silent battle of wills, Aidan threw Miss Hornsby a glare.
“I do not feel it is appropriate for you to be so forward with your presence in my house either, Miss Hornsby,” he declared coldly.
As he spoke he stared his mother in the eye in exactly the same way she had done him when addressing Petal.
“Your connection is with my mother, Miss Hornsby. I am sure you will find the sitting room downstairs more to your liking. Edwards, show her where it is. While you are downstairs, go and count your medicine bottles or something. You are paid to work not sit around drinking tea.” Aidan’s voice was devoid of all emotion, but was nothing short of a cold order that gave neither woman any opportunity to object.
Although the dowager didn’t give in easily, Edwards and Miss Hornsby seemed to know that they had gone too far. In unison, they returned their cups to the tray and quietly left the room.
“You could be a little more cordial, you know,” the dowager chided once they had gone.
“You could be slightly more aware of etiquette yourself. You know it is highly inappropriate for either woman to be in here. Yet you continue to drag your companion into my most private quarters, anyway whenever it fits in with your scheming. What on earth has possessed you to consider that right or proper? I warn you now that I am not prepared to be cuckolded into matrimony by you, that harridan you call your friend, that God awful nurse you employed without my authorisation, or anyone else. Why I would rather marry a maid than allow myself to be ensnared into the farce you call society.”
“Don’t you dare -” the dowager snapped in outrage.
“Oh, I dare, mother.”
“It is the time you were wed,” she declared with a sniff.
“Says who?” he snapped. “You?”
“Well, everybody. You are beyond the age where you should be raising a family of your own.”
“So you hire a nurse for me? What, is she employed to give more bedside services than most nurses? I didn’t realise you were paying for those kind of services, mother. Even so, maybe you should have considered what attracts me, because Edwards has all the appeal of that hearth rug.”
“Aidan Quigley-Myers! How dare you be so scandalous?” The dowager gasped, clutching her pearls. “I would ask you to mind who you are speaking to. Don’t be so coarse.”
“Oh, but I am coarse, mother. Coarse. Crude. Rude. It is what I do. Coarseness is in my blood, and I am glad of it. It will save me from an odious marriage to women like that creature you consistently drag around with you like a spare reticule. I warn you now that you shall never have a say in anything that goes on in my life while I have breath in my body.”
The dowager glared at him. “Someone has to run your house for you. You have already shown you are incapable of finding a wife to do it for you.”
“Edwards is a nurse. It isn’t her position to run my house. Nor would I ever expect her to, even if I was stupid enough to consider someone so conniving to take up the position as my wife. As for Hornsby; the woman doesn't even form a thought of her own without getting full authorisation from you. You know it. Don’t you dare think I would be scatter-brained enough to consider either woman worthy enough of being my mate!”
“Edwards is a worthy partner,” the Dowager protested. “She is the granddaughter of Lord Atterton. You cannot get a more well-connected person than that.”
Aidan lapsed into silence when the penny dropped. That explained why Edwards considered it beneath her station to be accommodated in the servants’ quarters with the rest of the staff, and why she had such delusions of grandeur toward her future prospects. She considered herself worthy of more because she was worthy of more, just not with him. While it galled him to be responsible for her stay in the servants’ quarters; he sternly reminded himself that her presence in his house was his mother’s machination, not his.
“Well, if she is from such an estimable family then I think it is entirely inappropriate for her to remain in my house. Her position as a nurse requires her to be in my bedchamber alone with me sometimes, and that is an utterly reprehensible position to put either of us in. You can take her with you when you go.”
“I cannot,” the dowager insisted.
Aidan hated that crafty look in her eye and knew there was something else she wasn’t telling him yet. He didn’t push. If there was one thing he knew about his mother it was that she liked to have the upper hand. If he showed any interest in finding out what she was up to, she would refuse to speak and taunt him with her superior knowledge as often as she could.
“You can, and you will,” Aidan said calmly.
The dowager shook her head. “I don’t know why you are protesting so much. Edwards poses no threat to you. You are alone in this bedroom with the upstairs maid all the time. Are you a danger to them too?”
Aidan glared at her. “I am not a threat to any of my staff, even Edwards. She
is perfectly safe with me. You are the one who keeps blathering on about my getting married. I didn’t think you would ever go so far as to try to entrap me by foisting one of your chosen hopefuls disguised as a nurse. Now that I know who she really is, I shall have to ensure that additional steps are taken to ensure no inappropriate conduct occurs. I am sure her duties can be carried out just as well from the kitchens with the rest of the staff.”
“She is aristocracy,” the dowager protested. “You cannot leave her down there!”
“Well, I am certainly not having her upstairs with me,” Aidan snorted. “She would be an unchaperoned female alone with an eligible bachelor who fully intends to remain that way. She has to remain a servant and, as such, will remain below stairs where the housekeeper can keep an eye on her. If you are not happy with the arrangement, take her with you.”
“I cannot speak to you when you get like this,” the dowager grumbled as she pushed to her feet.
“You just don’t like being caught out in your manipulations,” Aidan retorted. “I am afraid that you have overstepped the boundaries of propriety here, mother. I have enough highly trained, and very experienced, staff. I don’t need your interference, or Edwards’, and will not abide having you deciding otherwise. Remember that.”
“I shall have to inform Edwards to increase your Laudanum,” the dowager replied with a frown. “You seem to be incredibly agitated today. Maybe you are having a bad day.”
Aidan went cold as he studied the woman before him.
“I beg your pardon?”
This time, the dowager seemed to realise she had overstepped the boundaries of acceptability again.
“What did you just say?” He demanded when she didn’t immediately reply.
“Nothing. You need to rest.”
“I have instructed the nurse to stop giving me Laudanum,” Aidan murmured, watching the dowager pluck absently at the gloves in her hands while refusing to meet his eyes.
“Well that’s good then, isn’t it?” the dowager replied awkwardly.
Aidan mentally swore. At first, he was at a loss to know what to say because there were so many things he wanted to make clear to her that he didn’t know where to start. Until he could consider where to begin, and how, he suspected it was best to keep his mouth shut.