Page 57 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Emma moved farther into the room, driven by her curiosity. “Did he manage the estate poorly?”
Mrs. Travers made a dismissive sound. “Not terribly, but he was a senile old fool who refused to modernize anything and flirted dreadfully with the maids. They avoided him most of the time, but it’s nice not to have to worry about it.”
“I can imagine.” Even some gentlemen of the ton who had reached their dotage were poorly behaved around young ladies. Fortunately, the ladies of the ton were rarely ever at risk of anything happening against their will because they were never left alone with a gentleman. A maid would be in a more precarious position.
“May I join you?” Emma asked, now close enough to see that Mrs. Travers was working on a menu. “Or are you too busy right now?”
“Please, sit,” Mrs. Travers said.
Emma lowered herself into a chair on the other side of the table. “What kind of meals are usually prepared?”
“Nothing fancy.” Mrs. Travers’s cheeks colored, and she sat too. “Just simple fare cooked well. Meat, potatoes, and vegetables.”
“Very nice. What about soup? Dessert? I had a delicious slice of tart last night.”
A smile blossomed across the older woman’s face. “My Bill makes a good chocolate tart. He’s quite gifted with sweets and puddings.”
Emma’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “I’m very glad to hear that. I have a sweet tooth, but I was rarely able to indulge it at home.”
“That’s just not right.” Mrs. Travers looked astonished. “A girl like you needs plenty of rich food to grow a healthy heir.” She covered her mouth. “Forgive me for saying so.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” Emma had a feeling she was going to like Mrs. Travers.
They discussed the menu for a while, although Emma didn’t feel as though she was contributing much. Her own tastes were wide and varied, so there was no reason to ask Mrs. Travers to change much of anything. It felt good to be having the conversation, though. It made her feel as if she was a member of the household rather than a guest.
Which, she supposed, she was.
After they had exhausted the topic of menus and had gone through the general management of the house, Emma racked her brain, wondering what else she needed to do.
She’d always thought that she’d been so well trained, she’d be able to take over the management of a house without any fuss, but the nerves she was faced with now that this was actually happening left her second-guessing herself.
“Is that everything?” Mrs. Travers asked, glancing at the clock.
“Tenants,” Emma exclaimed. “We haven’t discussed tenants.”
“Ah.” The housekeeper pursed her lips. “That’s more of a matter for the estate manager than me.”
“True, but tell me, do you think they would like a gift basket?” Emma asked.
“A gift basket?” Mrs. Travers was obviously bemused.
Emma nodded. “I would like to introduce myself, and I don’t want to go empty-handed.”
“I believe we can do that. We have baskets in storage somewhere.”
Emma leaned forward. “What should we put in them? Perhaps tea, and do we have any biscuits for the children?”
A gleam formed in Mrs. Travers’s eyes. “Mr. Travers can whip some up before you go. He’ll be happy to.”
“Excellent. What else?”
Vaughan’s thighsached from a long day in the saddle. He dismounted and rubbed his mare’s neck.
“Good girl,” he murmured, slipping her a small apple from his pocket. “You’ve done well. Have a treat.”
“Do you talk to your wife like that too?”
Vaughan raised his gaze and glared at Cal Johnson, his estate manager. “Do you?”
