Page 61 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
This was all normal, and Juliana had no right to feel perturbed about the evening. The duke needed to marry and produce an heir; it was his duty. However, her heart could not reason as well as her mind could, leaving her distressed and unwilling to be anywhere near the guests.
Juliana risked Lady Stratford’s ire when she failed to take the next few courses to the dining room, but her shame-riddled conscience encouraged her to do what she was paid to do, and that was to be a servant.
She lifted a dish of stewed mushrooms and a fricassee of mutton chops and took the lead to a room that she was growing to dislike. Upon entering the room, Lady Stratford made eye contact and called her over to where she sat.
Juliana inwardly groaned and could only imagine what the woman would want from her. The only consolation was that she was not seated beside her brother, so she wouldn’t have to see just how perfect Lady Spencer was up close.
“Yes, My Lady?” Juliana asked, placing the dishes down.
Lady Stratford indicated for her to come closer until Juliana’s ear was near the woman’s head.
“Do you see how enthralled my brother is?” the woman whispered. “I may not like Lady Spencer, but at least my brother has shown some interest. Now, do make sure to serve us during every course, especially my brother. I noticed you were absent for the last few courses. I do not take such slights lightly.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Juliana answered, her heart sinking into despair.
Juliana returned to the kitchen and sank onto a bench, feeling her legs give out before her derrière touched wood.
“You look as though you need a good night’s rest,” Cook commented, a ladle in her hand.
“We all need a good night’s rest, which we will have once the guests leave. Well, perhaps not the scullery maids; they shall have much washing to do.”
Juliana winced at the thought of using such abrasive soap to clean all the cutlery, crockery, pots, and pans used for the night. It made her appreciate the duke more for not assigning such a task to her.
“It was a good thing for you to suggest hiring more girls to help our Harriet and Tilly,” said Cook. “The dears would not have fallen into bed until well past midnight if they had to take on such a chore on their own.”
“We all need a little help at times,” Juliana replied. “I will be glad once the dessert is served and the guests move to the drawing room.”
“Our two Marys have been hard at work putting the fruit baskets together to tantalise the guests. They must be nearly done. Why don’t you have a look and perhaps try a ripe peach? I know they are your favourite.”
Juliana smiled. “Thank you, Cook. A ripe peach might be the thing I need to give me a little more strength.”
Juliana entered one of the kitchen’s five rooms and sat down to help the girls put the finishing touches on the desserts. It helped to direct her thoughts away from what was happening in the dining room, but it remained at the back of her mind.
It was a fortunate thing that Thomas and Mr Stevens were the ones serving the guest, and not her. The footman and butler had the job of ensuring the guests were seen to throughout the dinner, while the other servants simply brought the food in and out and arranged it according to a drawn-out plan they had agreed upon.
“I had a little peek into the drawing room when the guests arrived,” Mary March commented. “I have never seen so many pretty women in one room. Lady Spencer is by far the prettiest, though.”
Mary Calendar shrugged. “I have seen more, and Lady Spencer is not the prettiest woman I have come across. I think Isabella could easily be counted as more beautiful than her.”
Juliana looked at the woman in surprise. “What a thing to say! I cannot be compared to Lady Spencer.”
Mary March nodded earnestly. “Aye, I see it! Your hair is truly your crowning glory, Isabella. I wish I had red hair instead of this mousy brown.”
“I wish I were the queen, but we all have to be satisfied with what we have,” said Mrs Black entering the room. “Dessert needs to be served right away, girls. I have already sent Kitty and the other girls with the cakes.”
Juliana scrambled to her feet and picked up a basket in each hand before walking as rapidly as the fruit would allow her. It wouldn’t do for her to drop something and waste all the hard work that went into the arrangement.
She was the last to enter the room and was about to walk down the table when she recalled what Lady Stratford had said to her. Taking a deep breath, Juliana approached the duke instead and placed the ripest fruits within his reach.
“Thank you, Isabella,” he said. “This looks lovely.”
“The two Marys have a way with fruit, Your Grace. I will give them your thanks.”
“But we have you to thank for this dinner party,” he argued.
Juliana lifted her head and gazed into the duke’s dark brown eyes. She coveted the thick black lashes that framed them, often bemoaning her few brown feathery ones.
“I was simply doing as I must, Your Grace,” she replied.
