Page 38 of Oddity of the Ton
“Are you cold, Miss Howard?”
She looked at him, but her eyes were unfocused. At that moment, the door opened and a maid entered, carrying a tray with tea things.
“Are you Miss Howard’s maid?” Monty asked.
“No, Your Grace. That’ll be Harriet.”
Harriet…
The name she’d taken to herself when he saw her in the park.
“Fetch her,” he said. “Miss Howard is ill.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” The maid bobbed a curtsey.
“Quickly now!” he barked, and the maid scuttled off.
Then he resumed his attention on Miss Howard. “Would you like some tea?”
She leaned back and closed her eyes, and Monty approached the table.
He inspected the tea things—two cups, a silver teapot with a fluted edge and an ivory handle, a sugar bowl, and a jug filled with milk.
What the devil was a man supposed to do with all that?
He picked up a cup and turned it over in his hand, running his thumb over the pattern on the porcelain. Then he glanced at the teapot.
“I suppose I should pour some of that in first.”
Miss Howard gave no response.
He poured brown liquid into the cup. Wisps of steam rose from the surface, dissolving into the air. Then he reached for the milk jug and poured some in. Was that enough?
Heavens!What the bloody hell was he doing—a man of his station, serving tea?
The door opened and a young woman appeared. She bobbed a curtsey, then glanced across the room and let out a cry.
“Miss Eleanor!” She rushed toward Miss Howard and took her hand.
“I was just about to serve tea,” Monty said.
The maid glanced at the teacup in his hand, and her eyes widened.
“How does Miss Howard take her tea?” he asked. “I’ve added some milk. Should I add sugar now?”
“She doesn’t take milk,” the maid replied. “She prefers honey and cinnamon.”
“There’s none of that here.” He glanced at the tray. “At least, I don’tthinkthere is.”
“Lady Howard doesn’t permit it. But a little sugar, and no milk, should suffice.”
“Oh,” he said. “I’ve already put milk in.”
“I’llsee to it.” The maid plucked the cup out of his hand and set it down, then she filled the second cup, dropped in a sugar lump, and stirred. Then she sat next to Miss Howard and took her hand.
“Miss Eleanor, it’s me. Harriet. I’ve some sweet tea for you.”
Miss Howard’s eyes fluttered open.
