Page 31 of The Earl and the Wedding Crasher
And tonight had not been much better. She had been hoping the wee things would settle a little now that they were bonding with her ladyship but Abigail had been in such hysterics that the ladywas sleeping in there with them, half lying on Abigail's bed from where she had dropped off telling a story.
There was a bang down the hall and the familiar sound of boots stomping over the wooden floorboards. Master Cedric was home at last, perhaps he might be able to help her in getting Lady Louisa back to her rooms. She hated to wake the lady, but lying on the floor was no good for heart nor body.
Mrs. Brooks exited the room she was in and saw Cedric Pembroke go into the children's room with a stormy expression on his face before coming back out moments later, confused and a little lost.
"What is my wife doing in there asleep on the ground?" he asked, seeing her coming towards him. "She looks half dead. If I had wanted to marry a corpse, there are plenty in the cemetery. Perhaps you can explain to me what has worn her out."
Eugenia Brooks had grown into her late middle age serving the Pembroke family. She knew her worth, she knew her place and her loyalty would always be to the Earl of St Vincent. But in this moment, with his tone so sharp and his eyes so dark she knew exactly who she was supporting.
"And what else would you expect, my lord?" she said, as polite as can be so he would have to listen to her words, not her tone. "The lady spends her mornings going over the accounts and reading about what your other estates need in terms of servants or arrangements. She arranges the meals and she has as much correspondence as yourself to deal with, but she cannot rest evenwhen her day is done for the children are always needing her. Miss Abigail had a nightmare so bad that she could not be left alone and this is not the first time. Your lady has too much to do. She is working herself to the bone getting her head around being a countess, but on top of that, my lord, she is doing the job of a paid Governess to those children."
"Mrs. Brooks," Lord St Vincent tried to interject, which Mrs. Brooks had learned was a thing she simply could not allow. Once a gentleman interjected one would not get to finish what one had been saying, and she had her piece and intended to finish saying it.
"She's a young lady, my lord, and she's never run a household before. It's a lot to handle, but on top of that she has the children to tend to. She's worn so thin I could read the newspaper through her, that I could. We might not always have agreed on things, but she works hard and she is a good woman. I respect her, Lord St Vincent, and I will not have you criticizing her."
There was a pregnant pause as they matched gazes. Mrs. Brooks knew well that should her master want, he could have her sacked for speaking this way to him and she would not be able to complain. Heavens, she knew his temper and his forceful personality. She knew how it fared for servants who did not respect him. But Mrs. Brooks was an honest woman who hated injustice and knew well that the boy she had seen grow into one of the most powerful men in the country needed a wife, and the wife he needed was the one in the nursery asleep.
For the sake of the St Vincent title and the family, she was willing to risk it all.
Cedric did not like being corrected, nor did he like the realization that he'd been entirely ignorant of something and so behaved like an entitled fool. It had never occurred to him to think about what all a lady did to manage a household and an estate before. He was so used to everything happening as and when it should that he had not stopped to think that somebody must be making it happen, and that it would take a lot of work to run a household as smoothly as this one.
"But who was doing all this before I brought her here?" was all he could think to ask. "Surely it doesn't all need her personal touch."
Mrs. Brooks pursed her lips. "Some of it was me, my lord. Some of it was the Dowager, or more properly her steward." Mrs. Brooks was a professional and so did not make a face, but he knew her well enough to see the face she was not making underneath it. "The rest were little things handed off to whoever knew best. The problem is, my lord, that she does have to oversee it all personally. Because she's the Countess. It wouldn't be right to have someone usurp her authority like that."
Cedric felt his mouth open a little, a sudden guilty understanding over taking him, when Mrs. Brooks continued. "And of course she has the children as well. Most ladies have a governess or two to help with that, on account of all theother work they have to do, and that's without the poor mites' struggles that see her sleeping on the floor in there."
"All right," Cedric broke in, raising his hands in defeat. "Enough Mrs. Brooks, I take your point. Louisa is to spend the next several days resting and while she does I'll set about finding a governess, how about that?"
Mrs. Brooks sniffed. "As you see fit, my lord."
Cedric looked at her wryly "Oh quite. Now if you'll excuse me I am to put my wife to bed. In an actual bed, so help us," and with that he turned back for the nursery and his unfortunately self-sacrificing wife.She could at least have had the good grace to make a performance out of ithe thought,like other martyr types. That way I could stop her before she passed out on the floor. But no, she must thwart me in everything.
Louisa was laying where he'd left her, so fast asleep she didn't even wake when he lifted her into his arms. A few tendrils had escaped her lace cap, and there was something charming about the way they trailed across her face gone soft with sleep. That argumentative little mouth had relaxed, and while her cheeks were pale with exhaustion the lips were still a bright vibrant pink.
She's rather beautifulCedric found himself thinking.I wonder why she was ever a wall flower to begin with? Rose suits her better.Then shook the thought away, baffled. That was far too much poetry for this hour of the night. Or ever. He'd never had a taste for it and there was no call to develop one now.
Though Cedric had hoped to be able to lay Louisa down and tuck her into bed without her waking, her natural instincts to thwart him must have risen up again because she began to stir and murmured his name sleepily.
"Hush now," he said, hearing the smile in his voice. "Go back to sleep."
"Can't sleep in my stays," she mumbled, starting to sit up. "It's uncomfy. The busk is pokey."
"Mhm, that's true. Probably shouldn't sleep in your dress either really," he agreed, manfully keeping himself from laughing. "Come on, I'll give you a hand."
Louisa made a small noise of assent and he helped her first out of the bed and then to step out of her gown as she stood wavering sleepily. "Here, turn around," Cedric said, "I'll unlace you."
He was half expecting Louisa to rise to this, chaff him about his past as a rake and how much experience he must have at removing other women's undergarments, but instead she placidly complied, swaying a little as he unlaced her with fingers not quite as practiced as they once were.
"There," he said, once the garment was loose enough for her to pluck out the long wooden busk and wriggle free. "I'll grab you a nightgown. Can't have you getting cold or scandalizing the maids."
Louisa hummed again, compliantly allowing him to dress and then tuck her into bed, pulling the covers up firmly to her chin. For a moment Cedric was seized with the ridiculous urge to kiss her forehead before shaking it off as too much time spent with the children. "Goodnight wife," he said instead, turning to leave.
To his surprise Louisa's soft hand reached out and grasped his "Thank you Cedric," she murmured, eyes heavy with sleep.
He couldn't help but chuckle "That's the politest you've ever been to me, you know?" and held back another laugh at the sleepy little frown that engendered.
"You're a very confusing man, Cedric Pembroke," she said, and the tired petulance on her face was adorable enough he gave in to his urge from early, and leaned down to drop a kiss on her forehead.
