Page 79 of The Mistletoe Countess
Those beautiful eyes of hers darkened. “‘The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?’”
“She quotes Percy Shelley to me.”
“You know Shelley?” She slipped back an inch, eyes wide. “Oh Frederick, you have to be the most wonderful man in the world. I’m certain of it. If you confess to reading Austen, I’m fairly confident I’ll reward you more valiantly than any Gothic romance Catherine Morland could ever conjure up.”
No longer able to keep his distance, he claimed her lips. He would only be gone for two nights at the most. Surely she’d manage a couple of nights without too much trouble.
Grace stood at the door watching Frederick’s car move down the long drive on its way to the rail station. Of course he needed to meet with Mr. Parks without delay, but it seemed much too soon for an overnight separation.
The car edged farther away. It would be terribly romantic if he stopped just at the curve in the lane, hopped out, and ran back to her, coattails flapping in the wind.
She waited, holding her breath. The car turned and continued out of sight.
Oh well, what did she expect in therealworld? Although she did hope he pined for her a little. Not enough to grow deathly ill like some men did in novels, but enough to cause the slightest discomfort in his stomach. That would be enough.
And perhaps a sleepless night.
A cavernous silence engulfed the massive house at Frederick’s absence. Grace spent a few hours decorating the Great Hall with Mary and Brandon, feeling quite pleased with her design and abundant—yet strategic—mistletoe hanging. Her grin grew as the delicate plant found its way over almost every threshold in the room. No husband should ever disapprove of extra kisses. She felt certain Frederick wouldn’t. He’d welcomed every one of hers from last night quite ravenously.
The thought brought a slight skip to her step and heat in her cheeks as she made her way to the servants’ wing. A din of laughter tugged her down the narrow stairwell from the dining room and to the threshold of the kitchen. She peered around the doorframe.
A sturdy woman, dark hair refusing to stay beneath a white kerchief, stood by the stove coaxing a younger blond-haired woman to follow her instructions.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
Grace spun around to find Brandon standing behind her.
“Oh Brandon!” Her palm flew to her chest. “I heard laughter and wished to investigate. I’m a huge proponent of laughter.”
He tucked his chin in assent but made no further response.
She leaned close, lowering her voice. “Would you mind reintroducing me to the staff?”
“Of course.”
The two women at the stove had stopped their work. Two other men and women stepped in from the next room, and Mary, the maid she’d already met, waited in the hallway behind Brandon. One of the men was a footman, John, she recalled from their evening meals, and though she’d seen the other man around the house, she couldn’t remember his name. Mrs. Powell emerged from the stairwell, her key ring jingling at her side, her expression as impassive as ever.
“This is Mrs. Lennox, our cook.”
The heavyset woman gave a curt nod. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”
“As am I, Mrs. Lennox. You’ve made my introduction to Havensbrooke so delightful with your wonderful meals.”
The woman’s smile pressed into her round cheeks. “Thank ya, ma’am. I aim for my best.” She turned to the girl at her side. “This is Amy, my help.”
The young woman curtsied. “My lady.”
“There is John and Laurence.” Brandon added. “Our footmen, ma’am.”
Grace nodded to them, hoping her smile encouraged their comfort. “I believe you know Mary,” Mrs. Powell added, stepping forward, hands folded in front of her. “With her is another housemaid, Jane. We have two more housemaids, Lucy and Alice, who are not here at the moment.”
“And James is another footman,” Brandon said.
“I’m pleased to meet you all again. You’ve all been so kind.” Grace glanced to each face. “And I hope to have your input as Lord Astley and I progress with improvements.”
The faces suddenly sobered.
“Oh please, don’t worry. We hope to make your jobs easier. Adding bathrooms, central heating, and remodeling the east wing for our personal quarters to be closer to the servants—”
