Page 13 of Lady Audacious
Yet.
Particulars of the incident in the garden returned, a memory or a vision of the lady in the blue gown and the aroma of magnolias, so real that it reinforced her determination to make a go of things. This is where she belonged. It was her birthright. She couldn’t be sure how she was so…well, sure, but nonetheless felt resolute. Nothing inside the house brought back memories, but the image in the garden had convinced her that she’d been here before in the company of a lady who cared about her. A lady who had to have been her mother.
With that thought to comfort her, Odile closed her eyes and slept more soundly than she had for years.
A noise woke her shortly after dawn. She sat up and pushed a tangle of hair away from her eyes, momentarily disorientated. Then she recalled where she was, and the doubts rose along with the sun. She was instantly alert, worried that an intruder might be responsible for the noise that had roused her from such a deep sleep. A woman alone would make an easy target, and Odile had no intention of becoming a victim before her new life had even begun.
And not after it had, either. She had a point to prove, to herself and to the world in general.
Jumping from her makeshift bed, she tied a robe around her night attire, picked up the poker and stepped cautiously towards the door. She heard someone whispering outside, and taking a deep, calming breath, she decided to start the way she intended to go on. She wrenched the door open, brandishing the poker in both hands above her head.
‘State your business!’ she cried.
‘Careful, miss,’ a familiar voice said calmly. ‘It’s me, Harris.’
Odile lowered the poker, feeling both foolish and underdressed.
‘Stand aside, Harris. The lady needs my help.’ A large woman with a round, kindly red face bustled through the door and relieved Odile of the poker, which she returned to the side of the range. ‘You’ll be Miss Aspen. Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. I’m Mrs Blaine. I’m told you’re in need of a cook and I would be happy to fill that position.’
‘Well…’ Odile blinked, a little taken aback by the woman’s forthright nature and the assumption that she could simply walk into her house, not to mention the position. Even so, she also felt an immediate affinity with her and was already grateful for such sturdy reinforcements. It would be a foolish intruder who attempted to get past Mrs Blaine. Odile sensed that the woman had a wealth of experience and would be difficult to hoodwink. ‘Yes, I am. Harris has certainly not wasted any time.’
She flapped a large hand. ‘Harris? I’ve known him since he was in nappies.’
Odile blinked, finding it hard to imagine the burly Harris ever having been a baby. ‘I see,’ she muttered, feeling helpless in the face of Mrs Blaine’s indominable will. But she sensed no harm in her and decided on the spot to give her a chance. She had never interviewed anyone before and had no idea what questions to ask a potential cook. For now, she must trust Harris to know the locals and decide who would give the best service.
Mrs Blaine unloaded the contents of a large basket and placed them on the table. Bread, butter, cheese, bacon, a cake wrapped in a damp cloth and goodness alone knew what else. ‘I was the first person he called upon, thinking you’d need a guiding hand like, and I can see he wasn’t wrong about that. We’ll get that small bedchamber set up for you today and I’ll sleep down here by the range. We can’t have you alone here. It would be neither safe nor seemly. No one will attempt to attack me if they’ve got the sense they were born with, but you would make an easy target.’
I would?‘But how…the bedchamber, I mean.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry none about that. There’s two girls on their way who will work hard or I’ll know the reason why. A couple of young men too who can do the heavy lifting here in the house and then set to work outside.’
‘How did you get here so early?’ Odile asked. ‘Not that I’m ungrateful, but it’s over a mile from the village.’
Mrs Blaine waved the question aside. ‘Bah, what’s a mile? The others will come and go every day but you need me to live here, and with Harris over the stables we’ll be as safe and cosy as you like. People will tattle about you being a single young lady, here all on your own, so you need me to make it all respectable, like.’
‘I see.’
Odile smiled at Mrs Blaine, thinking it unlikely that anyone would care about her living arrangements. It wasn’t as though she was a lady of quality. Then again, she was living in a large house with a vast sum of money to support her lifestyle. Naturally, she would become the subject of speculation and idle chatter. She had never lived outside of London, but was well aware that villages were hotbeds of gossip. She was amused to imagine herself being spoken of in disapproving terms, as though she was some sort of femme fatale. She didn’t have a mirror, but she knew all too well that she was far too plain to inspire a gentleman’s passions.
‘I’ll heat up some water, then you can wash and dress, and by the time you’ve done that, your breakfast will be on the table,’ Mrs Blaine said, clearly not a woman to waste time when there was work to be done.
Odile washed in the water that Mrs Blaine had provided and dressed in one of her despised gowns.
‘Is there a haberdashery in the village?’ she asked as she, Mrs Blaine and Harris sat down at the kitchen table to a huge breakfast. Odile was ravenous and did it justice.
‘Aye, there is that,’ Harris said.
‘Well then, I need to visit it. In fact, what I really need, Harris,’ she said, ‘is a means of transportation. Is there a livery yard where you can lease a small carriage? And a horse, obviously. I shall need you to drive it for me, mind, since I don’t have the first idea about horses.’
‘That can be easily arranged,’ Harris replied, ‘and once I’ve seen to it, I’ll drive you into the village and you can open accounts with all the local businesses you intend to offer your custom to.’
‘Excellent. I will advance them small sums to show good will.’
‘That will certainly assure you of prompt service,’ Mrs Blaine said, nodding her approval. ‘Be sure to call at the general store. They have a bit of everything there.’
‘I shall. I have a letter to write and we can post it when we get there. Presumably the general store also acts as the post office.’
‘It does,’ Harris told her.
