Page 14 of An Amiable Foe
“You must not count on me for that.” He poked at one of the burnt cakes, which crumbled at his touch. “What do I know about getting a maid? That’s a woman’s domain. Or it might be the steward’s job. Have you asked him?”
She hated to admit it, but Mr. Mercy had not attempted to discuss matters with her pertaining to the castle ever since Mr. Osborne had arrived. He’d requested an immediate audience with the new owner, probably assuming—and rightly so—that the man who would be paying his salary was the one he should be applying to.
Marianne sat at the well-worn table. She picked a remaining bit of uncooked dough from the bowl and put it in her mouth. It was not terrible. She would just have to learn how to use the oven properly.
The oven!She jumped up and went to peek into the brick oven to see if the cakes were done yet. No, they were not yet baked but it would be only another minute. She would have to try to understand the workings of the oven in the time it would take her to hire a servant.
“What did you come for if it was not to help?” she asked, turning to him. He was an easy target for her irritation, considering how long she had known him—and how irritating he could be.
“I came to see how you were getting on. And I brought you a gift.” Robert snapped his fingers and left the kitchen, returning to the front door. She heard him open it, and moments later, he reentered the kitchen carrying a basket. “My mother thought you might need this.”
He set it on the table, and Marianne pulled the cloth aside, discovering it was loaded with things to eat: cheese, a crock of butter, and another one of jam. There was some tea, a small cloth carrying eggs, one of which had broken, and smoked ham. Mrs. Vernon had also thoughtfully placed some of the fruit grown in the hothouse located on the Grinnell property.
“Oh, lovely. How generous of her! It would have taken me an age to purchase all of this, and to learn how and where to find it. This will give me a couple of days’ respite as I learn my way around.”
“You’d better use that time to find a new maid,” Robert advised helpfully.
Later, when he had left and Marianne was placing the uncharred, but still lumpy, cakes onto a plate, which she covered with a cloth, there was another knock at the door. This time, she went to open it. It was Mr. Osborne.
“I came to see how you fared.” He had what she thought was a sheepish look on his face, and she wondered if it was for the spiteful way he had denied her the one thing she needed most. He should be feeling sheepish.
She swallowed a retort, deciding she would be dignified. “I am getting along very well, I thank you.”
Mr. Osborne stood just inside the vestibule, and he looked around her at Miss Fife, who had gotten to her feet. “Mr. Osborne, how do you do?”
Marianne was surprised that she even knew Mr. Osborne’s name. He responded with a slight bow. “I am well. Might I come in?” These latter words he addressed to Marianne.
“Please do,” she said, although she was still provoked enough to want to deny him access. But he was the possessor of her beloved castle, and she couldn’t bear it if she were never to see the inside of it again. They must remain on good terms.
“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the nearest chair. As she was about to take her own seat, she hesitated. “Would you like some tea?”
“If you have some, I would be glad of it.” He remained standing as well, until she left the room.
Marianne went to the kitchen, and as she put the kettle of water to boil and the canister of tea leaves on the tray, she looked over at her plate of almond cakes. They were pitiful, but she had nothing else to offer him that seemed appropriate for a light tea tray. It didn’t seem right to put out a slab of ham so close to dinner.
After a moment’s hesitation, she arranged the cakes on the tray as well, and when the water was hot, brought the tray out. If he wouldn’t give her a maid, he could very well eat the cakes she’d made with her own hands.
She steeped the tea as Miss Fife spoke, loquacious as she expounded on the inconveniences to be found in the cottage. Marianne handed him a cup of tea and a small plate with an almond cake on it, then sat back to watch.
He listened politely to Miss Fife as she informed him that the dining room could not be used to entertain more than eight. As she continued, he drank all of his tea and ate the cake. He made no comment about it whether it was good or not, but he finished it.
At last he was given enough pause from Miss Fife’s soliloquy to turn to her. “Did you have a good night’s sleep? Were you able to have everything you needed?” He seemed anxious, and she refrained from snapping at him that she would have been much better off if she’d had some hired help.
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she replied.
“I have no doubt.” Mr. Osborne reached over and took a second cake and began to eat it. He’d liked the cake well enough to take another! The small gesture brought her more pleasure than she could have imagined.
“My friends are coming in five days,” he said in between bites. “And they are quite particular. I had Charlie go buy proper bedding for them as the most urgent task. And I’m making up a room with more privacy for Neck downstairs in your mother’s apartment.”
That touched her as well, that he’d called the yellow sitting room her mother’s, the way she thought of it. When his words registered, she drew her brows together.
“Your friend Nick will be staying in the bedroom attached to the yellow sitting room? Yes, I suppose of all the downstairs bedrooms, that is the one with the most privacy.”
“Neck,” he clarified. “Short for ‘neck-or-nothing.’ And Lorry will stay upstairs in the southern wing—” He stopped short suddenly, and she grasped that this friend would probably be staying in her room. “But I think the hardest task before me will be to repair the roof. I won’t have it done by the time they come, yet I must get started.”
“Will you be able to do so?” she asked. “It has been many years that the need for repair has been pressing, but my uncle was never a nabob and could not send the funds.”
“I will have enough to do just the roof repairs,” he replied. “But I won’t be able to see to repairing the walls that have been damaged by mold and damp right away. At least I can repair the source of damp so no further damage is done.” He took a third almond cake and Marianne was beginning to feel quite charitable toward him.
