Page 37 of His Arranged Duchess
Mrs. Gray had, however, helpfully compiled a list of questions for Frances to ask.
There’s no need to be nervous,she told herself repeatedly.None at all.
The interviews were to take place in a small, seldom-used parlour near the front of the house. The candidates waited nervously in the hall outside.
“Isn’t this a little grand to interview housemaids?” Lucien commented, sitting on a low sofa by the window. Frances took a straight-backed chair by a little round table, opposite an empty chair where the candidate would sit.
“What’s grand about it?” Frances shot back. “We want them to be comfortable, after all.”
Lucien chuckled, stretching out his long legs. “And you think that prospective housemaids will be more comfortable here, rather than down in the kitchen?”
This was an excellent point, but before Frances could comment, the door opened and a young woman shuffled in, beaming nervously.
She was around twenty-five years old, with a round and placid face. She wore a plain blue dress, her mousy hair pinned up under a demure straw bonnet. She was a little on the plump side and appeared to be trying to suck in her stomach. She sat down on the chair opposite Frances with a thump, then promptly grimaced.
“Oh, heavens. I should have waited to be asked to sit, shouldn’t I?”
Frances, who would almost certainly have forgotten to bid the poor woman sit, gave a nervous smile in return.
“Nonsense, I would rather you make yourself comfortable. Tell me, what is your name?”
“Hannah Tremblay, Miss. Oh, I suppose it isn’tMiss, is it?”
“It is Your Grace,” Lucien spoke up gently, and Hannah’s eyes widened.
“Oh, lawks! You’re her, aren’t you? You’re the duchess!”
“Indeed, she is,” Lucien said, sounding as if he were holding back laughter with difficulty. “And I am the Duke.”
Hannah appeared to be on the brink of fainting.
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter,” Frances said firmly. “I wanted to meet you in person.”
“I read all about you in the papers, Your Grace! If I may say so, you’re pretty as a picture. Prettier, even.”
Frances had to smile at the compliment. “Well, thank you. I am fairly ordinary-looking.”
“You are not, Your Grace! Begging your pardon, I’m unfortunately rather plain myself, so I know beauty when I see it. It’s made it difficult for me to get a position.”
Frances paused, frowning. “Why should your looks make any difference?”
Hannah gave her an almost pitying smile. “Folks want pretty housemaids, Your Grace. Housemaids are seen more often. I’d get a position as a kitchen maid or a scullery maid easily enough, but that’s the kind of work that strips you to the bone.”
“Well, we don’t have that kind of attitude here at Blackstone Abbey,” Frances answered firmly. “You’ll be judged on your performance and that alone, I can promise you that.”
Hannah gave a wry smile at that, as if she did not quite believe Frances but did not wish to be rude.
Frances turned her attention back down to the list of questions Mrs. Gray had given her.
“You ought to know that the work here will be rather hard,” she added, after a moment. “I daresay you’ve seen the state of the house. We’ve got a great many repairs to get done, as well as redecorating. All of that is very messy.”
Hannah nodded eagerly. “I’m a hard worker, Your Grace. Truly, I am. You’ll see all my references there, from my previous employers. Now, there’s a gap over the past five years, and anumber of people have turned me away because of it. The thing is, your Grace, my employer died quite sudden-like, and there was no time for her to give me a reference, and her son turned me out of the house to make room for his own servants. I liked old Mrs. White the best, only she died, or else I should still have been with her. She’d praise me to the skies, she would, and that’s not me bragging. I can do all sorts, too. The usual cleaning and scrubbing and whatnot, but also a lot of special darning and sewing. I can make lace, I can do hair and help you get dressed if necessary, and what I don’t know I’ll learn quickly. I’m a loyal sort, and I’ll work hard and please you, just you wait and see.”
Frances blinked, a little taken aback to be on the receiving end of such begging. Swallowing hard, she placed the papers aside, holding Hannah’s stare.
The woman met her eyes for a minute, then swallowed, glancing away.
“I was too much, wasn’t I?” she murmured. “I ruined my last interview that way. And the one before that, I was too cheeky. I’ve got a habit of not holding my tongue, I’m afraid. But I need this job, Your Graces. Truly, I do. My parents are old, and…” she paused, cutting off the end of the sentence. “Well, never mind that. I need work, that’s all I can say.”
