Page 3 of Monsters in Love

“It is not my place to question his Lordship. I will be gone for as long as commanded.”

She rolled her eyes. Fine then. Good luck with that.

She knew theirs was a curious household. Most members of the titled gentry had a full staff—cleaners and cooks, stablemen and footmen, butlers and housekeepers, and young boys who ran errands. Lord Ellingboe, by contrast, was content to keep a very small household here in London. It was different when they retired to his country estate, but here in the city townhouse, being the lone housekeeper meant she often held the role of several members of the staff, a situation she normally enjoyed. Gerrold attended to the earl’s personal needs and oversaw the stableman, who doubled as the groundskeeper, while she oversaw the kitchen staff and two maids. With Gerrold gone, his daily duties would fall to her.

At first, Lillie had been breathless with the fear that it would be too much...but now that Gerrold was taking her through a typical day, she came to realize that looking after the earl wasn’t nearly as big of a job as he’d always made it sound. Typical men, making mountains out of the tiniest molehills. Laying out the earl’s clothing each day, ensuring things were appropriately laundered and returned to the wardrobe, his boots polished and his tea hot.

“Anticipating his Lordship’s needs should be your first priority each day,” he went on stiffly. “Once you are dismissed, you can return to your other work.” Lillie gritted her teeth, her smile resembling a grimace. She said nothing. Gerrold was always like this, and his lofty attitude wasn’t anything the rest of the staff wasn’t well used to. And besides. He’ll be gone soon.

When Gerrold left her in the hall to return to his own quarters, ensuring his bags were packed as he would be leaving that same afternoon, she slumped, taking a deep breath.

She’d already instructed the two maids in their tasks for the day, a deep clean of the entire house from top to bottom, scrubbing floors and baseboards, beating rugs, replacing oil and candles, and laundering everything that wasn’t nailed down. It was the sort of job she usually reserved as a monthly task, but she knew that it would be far easier to keep the house tidy for the week or two that she would be taking over the valet duties until Gerrold returned. The girls were both a flurry of gossip and chatter, the newest addition of the high tea being passed between them over breakfast that morning, announcements on which of London’s eligible young women would be attending the Monsters Ball, among others. Dorcas had much to say about the kitchen stores, acting as if Lillie would somehow have carte blanche to purchase whatever the cook required in Gerrold’s absence, and then, of course, there was Gerrold himself, acting as if she could barely lace her own boots. Now that she was alone once more, all Lillie wanted to do was find someplace quiet to escape, where she could hear herself think and bask in absolute nothingness until that evening.

She knew just the place. The solarium had been the late countess’s domain. It was where she would take tea with other ladies, Dorcas had murmured, where she would hold luncheons, showing off her prize rose collection, and where she sat and worked on her needlepoint until it was dark. The long wall of windows and domed skylight above gave the room an open, airy quality. Sighing as she let the door swing shut behind her with a soft click, Lillie closed her eyes.

She didn’t often wonder what it must be like to be a member of the peerage, to live upstairs with a bevy of servants seeing to one’s every need. She didn’t care. It had never been her life, never something she was meant to aspire to, and so she had never given it a great deal of thought. She knew what it was like to live downstairs, to be the help, to be an employed person in the household. It didn’t matter how warm the family was, how much the children might adore you, didn’t matter how much the lord of the manor appreciated the cooking or how well the lady of the manor treated the staff. The staircase may have only been a staircase, but it was a sharp divide. She’d seen it firsthand, playing out many times over in previous households. The slightest infraction, the merest offense, and the upstairs closed ranks sharply, closing the door to the downstairs help firmly and without a moment’s compunction. One might be beloved, but one was never family; one was never one of them.

She had never bothered wondering what it was like to live as the other half did, because it didn’t matter. She had little time for foolish daydreams and suppositions, and she was no green girl. The countess may have considered this room the center of her entertaining, but for the help, it was a quiet place of respite, if only for a moment.

“I see I’m not the only one looking for a bit of quiet today.”

The deep rumble of his voice made her startle, and Lillie spun, praying that she didn’t trip over her own clumsy feet, noticing the earl for the first time. He was sitting at a small table, a cup of tea and a dainty saucer before him and a book beside it.

“I’m so sorry, my Lord, I did not realize—I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

Lord Ellingboe held up a hand, silencing her. “I like to come in here as well. It’s one of the only places in the house where I can hear myself think, where no one will come seeking me. Unlike my study,” he added as a wry afterthought. “I would appreciate it if we kept this little secret.”

“M-my Lord?”

“The solarium. If you tell Abilene and Vena about this place, we are likely to never find a moment’s peace again. It’s bad enough knowing my daughter-in-law will turn this into a nonstop venue for entertaining eventually. Come, sit with me for a moment.”

The entire world seemed to grind to a halt as she crossed the room on shaky knees like a newborn colt, her feet made of lead, feeling the earl’s eyes on her every step. Sit like a lady, she hissed at herself. Not like some low-bred field mouse, even if that’s what you are.

“Mr. Phip always says this is where the Countess kept her roses and had her teas.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as unsteady as she did in her head. “Although I’m sure you’ve always had an eye out for a moment of quiet, my lord, with three noisy boys in the house.”

“Four.”

“My Lord?”

“Four boys. I have four sons. Had, I suppose. I never really know what the appropriate way to say that is. My youngest son, our youngest, Eddris. We lost him ... well, it’s been some years now. Several years before my wife fell sick.”

The world was still frozen, and now, so too was the very air around them. She felt unable to draw in a full breath, the air in her lungs growing thin and stale as her face heated. How did you not know this already?! The quiet moments of grief-tinged mourning she’d happened upon more than once seemed even more prescient now. She could have bitten her clumsy tongue clean out of her head, but the earl continued evenly.

“He was always so headstrong. He was the one riding atop the carriage with the driver as a boy, going riding along the weakest edge of the cliff. He craved adventure, and he loved living. That’s the one thing I remind myself of. He was young, far too young, but he lived every moment of his life, brief as it was.”

She was mortified at the tears that filled her eyes as Lord Alamo spoke, not wanting to move a muscle lest she draw attention to them. As a consequence, they spilled over her lashes, a wet track down the side of her cheek.

“He said he felt without purpose, the fourth son, hardly valuable in the grand scheme of things. What was he to do with himself? Didn’t want to hear about property or titles. That was important to the older ones, not him. So, he enlisted in the military, much to my wife’s displeasure and against my objections. Most soldiers with ‘the honorable’ before their names were more than content to earn medals for valour while they sat behind desks, but not my Eddris. Always so headstrong. I could have forced the matter. I could have written a letter to the crown, pressed my title and had him removed from any danger, but I can’t regret not having done so. He wouldn’t have listened even if I had. I have no doubt he went out of his way to place himself at the front lines. Why should it be proper for those men of lower station to die in service to the crown and not him? That’s what he asked in one of his last letters. He was burned at the manor, in accordance with our customs,” he went on after a moment. “His ashes scattered over the cliff into the sea. That would’ve made him quite happy, I think. As free as the waves, no title or starched collar holding him down.”

“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” she choked out, heedless of the tears that coursed down her cheeks freely by then. “I-I had no idea.” She had no choice but to wipe her tears away then, her face burning in mortification when Lord Ellingboe presented his own handkerchief for her use.

“There is nothing for you to be sorry about, my dear. We all have our ghosts, do we not? What of you, Miss Prichard? Do you have children of your own?”

“Me,” she gasped in shock, choking out a short laugh as she dabbed her cheeks with the soft silken linen, embroidered with his insignia in the corner. “No, my Lord. No children. I’ve never married.”

“No desire to do so?” One of his thick eyebrows had raised as he asked the question, and heat burned up her neck. She was positive this wasn’t an appropriate conversation to be having with her employer, but there was no one around to overhear them.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. More like little opportunity. I’ve only ever been surrounded by the men who were similarly employed in households with me, and I’ve never been particularly interested in any of them.”

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