Page 93 of Stardust Child

“I do apologize,” Ophele said to Emi as they walked back to the dining area of the cookhouse. The girl was medium height and sturdy-looking, but it took a resolute soul to face Wen. “Master Wen is very protective of the kitchen. If you stay behind the white line, he won’t mind you, and there’s always food in the cupboards.”

“Yes, my lady,” Emi replied. There was still a little too much white showing in her eyes.

Walking back into the cookhouse was excruciating. Ophele couldn’t bring herself to meet anyone’s eyes as she repeated the warning, aware that she hadn’t lasted an hour before she had completely obliterated the fiction that she was any sort of lady, let alone a duchess. What must they think of her? Lady Hurrell wouldn’t have budged from a stately glide if the house were aflame. Taking her seat, her hands knotted in her lap. They were alllookingat her.

She had to do this. She was Remin’s lady. She could not disappointhim or shame him. Ophele gulped and tried again.

“I’m so sorry. That’s really the only place you ought to be cautious. The kitchen.” The words emerged in small, breathless bursts, but she raised her eyes to Adelan and tried to pretend he was the only one at the table. “And the barracks. You ought not to go there. And the bridge gatehouse. Sir Bram requires a pass. To get out, I mean. And the mason’s camp…”

The mention of the gatehouse had made her think of the mason’s camp, which made her think of the prostitutes, that forbidden subject floating upward like a bubble moments from bursting. Oh, stars, she wasn’t going to say that word, was she?Wasshe?

Ophele slammed her mouth shut and swallowed. Again, she tried to do as Remin suggested and frame what she wanted to say in her mind first.

“It’s best to stay away from the builders’ camps,” she said, shaky but at least coherent. “There isn’t much p-privacy for them.”

“That is understandable, Your Grace,” Adelan replied, without the least sign he had noticed anything amiss. “I am sure there are many introductions to be made about camp. We have discussed the matter amongst ourselves, and we would like to begin with general introductions, perhaps at supper, and an inventory of the household supplies. I am given to understand they will either be in the storehouse you showed us, or the warehouses down by the harbor.”

“Yes. Master Didion ordered some things. For the house,” she said. “The architect.”

“Ah. I believe I might have seen him. I will be sure to give him proper greetings. And my lady, I beg that you should not feel responsible for these introductions,” he added. “I feel we have imposed upon you quite enough already.”

He offered a small, seated bow, but Ophele wondered if it was a roundabout way of saying that it was inappropriate for her to be taking such an interest. Shewassitting to eat with them right now; such a thing would be unheard of in Aldeburke. A lady did not dine with servants. But she could hardly leave, could she? Or go sit by herself at another table? Almost, she turned to Lady Verr, expecting to find Lady Hurrell’s contemptuous stare.

Mercifully, Wen took the decision out of her hands a few minutes later when he appeared with the stew and fresh bread. She felt lessfrightened when everyone’s eyes were on their food rather than her, and Adelan questioned her about her habits, routines, and preferences, as well as Remin’s. The servants would need to know all of it in minute detail.

“I don’t need much, at present,” she said hesitantly. “I am well enough in the cottage, and Wen manages all our meals, and…oh, is there someone that might help with the laundry? His Grace was helping me, but it has been…difficult.”

“His Gracedid laundry, my lady?” It was the first time the butler had shown real surprise.

“There was no one else,” she replied, bristling a little. Yes, it was work no other nobleman in the entire Empire would condescend to do, and Remin had ruined two of her dresses, five chemises, and a breast binding, but it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to wash delicate fabrics. “His Grace’s first care is that the work is done. Even if he has to do it himself.”

“Yes, of course,” Adelan said, recovering quickly. “I will inquire with Sir Justenin about a laundress, Your Grace, and we will attend in the meantime. Please, continue. Are you early risers?”

“Yes, we both get up at dawn. When he’s home, that is. His Grace likes to fetch breakfast himself, and—oh, he won’t like it if any of you touch his food or drink,” she added, alerted to another hazard. “If he wants tea, I will make it for him, please don’t touch it yourselves. I will also manage his clothing until the valet arrives. The fewer people handle his things, the better.”

“We are all aware of His Grace’s…circumstances, my lady,” Adelan said, with a glance that included everyone down to seven year-old Samin. “My brother is the head footman at Rospalme and knew His Grace as a child. We will leave it to you to determine your comfort, and strictly abide by any security measures you deem necessary. Typically, a gentleman’s wardrobe is locked, as it contains many valuable items. Once his things are moved up to the manor, you might wish to secure them, and keep the keys in your possession.”

“That would be best,” Ophele agreed. “Are all of you from Ereguil?”

She knew that Duke Ereguil had had all of them extensively investigated and would never have sent them if he had any doubts, but it was so hard to besure.Once Remin came home, they would all be living with him in hishouse,under his roof, and her already-fertileimagination was augmented with the dozens of creative assassinations she had read in books. There were so many ways a determined person might do him harm, and even iftheseservants could be trusted, there were still more coming, and there would be guests in the house, and once the offices were complete, people would be coming and going all day.

Maybe she would just keep the doors to their chambers locked altogether.

Her mind was occupied with the problem as she led them to the cottage, so Adelan might see what furnishings would need to be relocated. But as they trooped up the street together, gradually it began to dawn on her how very small everything was. The cottages could not be anything but humble, their yards muddy, and compared to a grand estate like Ereguil, it was a very rough and shabby place indeed.

“There is very little furniture,” she said awkwardly as she stepped into the cottage, feeling suddenly defensive. With Adelan and Davi inside, there was scarcely room for anyone else, and the room looked dusty and dim as the other servants crowded into the doorway. What had looked like cheerful notes to her—the flowers, the glass bear, the blue-patterned teacups—now just looked pathetic.

“You will…want to bring these things with you?” Adelan asked, turning in place to examine the washstand.

“Yes. We have no replacements for most of it yet.” Except for the new bed, which was currently sitting in the warehouse by the harbor. Remin had already shown it to her several times, like a warning. “And there are some basins and tubs around the side of the house…”

They were good servants. They knew how to manage their expressions. But having grown up with the scorn of the Aldeburke servants, Ophele was exquisitely sensitive to it now, and she could read the shock and dismay under those polite smiles. Really, she couldn’t blame them. Who ever heard of a duke living in a place like this? Doing his own laundry? And Ophele herself was no credit to him, a stammering mouse in a gown so plain, she might be taken for a scullery maid. What sort of duke was this?

The thought was written in their eyes, if not their faces. And it put her back up.

“When His Grace first came here,” she began, knotting her handstogether to keep them from trembling as she confronted all those curious eyes, “there wasn’t anything. There weren’t any cottages, or a cookhouse, or roads. They only finished the bathhouses last month. And there weren’t any walls, even, to keep out the devils. This isn’t like anyplace else. You’re here for the beginning. Please…keep that in mind.”

“We will, Your Grace,” Adelan replied, after a moment of surprised silence. And then he bowed, the proper polite bow of a serving man, with one arm behind him and his other hand pressed to his heart. Behind him, the other servants followed. “It is…a privilege.”

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