Page 31 of Wedded to the Sinful Duke

“Ah, Your Grace,” she said respectfully but coldly, “it is nothing. We shall sort it out shortly.”

Ciara insisted. “What is there to sort out? Perhaps I can help.”

Mrs. Dawson raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, I doubt that, Your Grace. It appears that the large stone oven, essentialfor the evening’s dinner which was specially requested by His Grace, has stopped working.”

“It has gone completely cold, Your Grace,” the servant girl added for more clarification. “We cannot seem to get it working again. Without it, the roast and the pastries for this evening’s dinner will be ruined.”

“There is no one who can take a look?” Ciara asked.

“I just inquired about the men knowledgeable in that,” Mrs. Dawson explained.

Ciara hesitated for a moment then she made her suggestion. “Perhaps I might take a look?”

“You?” Mrs. Dawson gasped.

“Yes, if you don’t mind, I would like to take a look.” Ciara smiled in a reassuring manner, fully aware of the fact of how ridiculous that sounded. A woman being able to check an oven. But the truth was, she spent many evenings working in the nunnery kitchen where they had a large, stone oven, and she had learned a thing or two about why it might stop working.

The servant girl glanced at Mrs. Dawson for confirmation, but the housekeeper was still taken aback by the suggestion. A moment later, she acquiesced. “I… suppose you could take a look,” she said as if she had only recently learned English and needed to think of the words she was going to use.

The three women walked into the kitchen in silence then Mrs. Dawson announced to everyone what was to take place.

“Her Grace is about… to take a look at the oven.” She said it as if she were describing the most incomprehensible notion in the world. Again, Ciara did not hold it against her. She had lived her entire life being told she couldn’t do something, being told she was not enough. This was not a matter of proving herself. It was simply a matter of being helpful which was all she ever wanted to be.

Ciara turned to everyone with a smile. “Let’s see if we can figure this out together,” she said, rolling up her sleeves.

The staff watched in surprise as Ciara knelt by the oven, inspecting it closely. She noticed that the flue was blocked, preventing the fire from drawing properly. Then, she grabbed a pair of heavy gloves and a long metal poker.

“Mrs. Dawson, if we can clear this blockage, we should be able to get the fire going again,” Ciara explained. “Can you hand me that broom handle?”

With the staff gathered around, Ciara carefully worked the broom handle into the flue, dislodging the blockage bit by bit. Soot and ash fell, and the kitchen maids quickly swept it away. After several tense minutes, the blockage was finally cleared, and Ciara coaxed the fire back to life.

“There we go,” she said with a smile, stepping back as the fire roared to life once more. “The oven should be working now. Let’s get those dishes back in and finish preparing for the dinner.”

The kitchen unexpectedly erupted in relieved cheers and applause. The servants beamed with gratitude, their eyes shining with admiration.

“That was… exceptional, Your Grace,” Mrs. Dawson said as she stood before Ciara.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dawson.” Ciara felt herself blush a little at the praise. “When one finds oneself in… unusual situations, one picks up a few unusual skills.”

Her comment made the other servants chuckle, and even Mrs. Dawson smiled a little, only to turn serious once again, clapping everyone to get them to focus once again. “Now that we have the oven working again, let us make sure that the dinner isn’t late.”

Ciara watched as the staff all dispersed back to their positions, working with renewed energy and confidence. She hoped that she was a bit of an inspiration for them and that her unusual skill didn’t make her appear odd, but on the contrary, that it assured them she was just like them, used to the work that was required of her.

Mrs. Dawson led Ciara out of the kitchen, addressing her respectfully. “You may focus on your tasks now, Your Grace. You have been truly helpful today.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dawson, those words really mean a lot,” Ciara said, genuinely feeling a sense of belonging. She remembered the applause she was greeted by once she had solved the problem, and even now, the housekeeper was hopefully, slowly warming to her.

Two months,she remembered.Don’t get attached to these people.

Only, that was easier said than done.

Jonathan was in his study the following day with a single thought in his mind. His wife knew how to repair an oven. Jonathan had to admit that was one of the most peculiar things he had ever heard. A lady with such a skill. When Mrs. Dawson brought him dinner in his study that evening, she mentioned what had happened, and the story amused him beyond belief.

He tried to bury himself in his work, but a knock on the door interrupted him. “Yes?” he called out, and the butler entered, announcing that his cousin Rebecca was there for him. “Fine, send her in,” Jonathan gestured at him.

Several moments later, Rebecca waltzed into the study, closing the door behind her. “Jonathan,” she greeted.

“Rebecca,” he replied, teasing her. “I am already married. You can’t force me to attend any more balls where I have to speak to ladies and listen to them talk about the wonders of embroidery.”

---