Page 79 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
The woman dropped into a hasty curtsy. “That’s kind of you, my lord, but there’s no help for poor Lord Draven. Not now, leastways, and perhaps not ever again.”
An anxious lump rose in Georgiana’s throat, and she pressed closer to the door. “Perhaps not ever again? Is…is the earl not expected to recover?”
The housekeeper gave a sad shake of her head. “I can’t say for sure, Lady Haslemere.”
Georgiana glanced at Benedict and found him staring back at her with the oddest look on his face, but he didn’t correct the woman, and by the time Georgiana gathered her wits to do so, the moment had passed.
“His poor lordship hasn’t regained consciousness since he was brought here from London several days ago,” the housekeeper went on, oblivious to the sudden tension. “He just lies in that bed, he does, as still as death. The doctor says his injury is severe, and he may notwake up again.”
Without thinking, Georgiana took the woman’s hand. “We’re very sorry to hear of Lord Draven’s misfortune, Mrs….”
“Mrs. Ellery, Lord Draven’s housekeeper. Cook too, if truth be told, but we do what we must, don’t we, my lady? It’s no fuss, really, what with there being just the four of us here aside from Lord Draven.” She leaned forward confidingly. “All of Lord Draven’s previous servants scattered to the winds when his lordship settled in London, you understand.”
Georgiana did understand—far more than Mrs. Ellery imagined she did. “We’ve just come from a long ride, Mrs. Ellery. Might we come inside fora cup of tea?”
Mrs. Ellery blinked. “I beg your pardon, Lady Haslemere. You must think me an utter savage. Please do come inside.”
“Thank you.” Benedict took Georgiana’s arm, and the two of them followed Mrs. Ellery into the kitchen.
“Oh, dear. I didn’t think…the drawing room fire hasn’t been laid. There isn’t much call for it, there being no visitors—”
“That’s perfectly all right, Mrs. Ellery. Lord Haslemere and I are happy to sit in the kitchen.” Georgiana pulled out a chair and seated herself at the massive table in the center of the room. “Aren’t we, my lord?”
“Whatever suits you, my dear.” Benedict gave her a sly wink, then seated himself beside her. “Please don’t go to any trouble on our account, Mrs. Ellery.”
Mrs. Ellery was pouring hot water into the teapot and arranging some biscuits and tea things on a tray. “It’s no trouble, my lord, and you must have your tea, mustn’t you?” She bustled over, placed the tray on the table, and helped them each to a cup of tea.
“You mentioned there are four of you here, Mrs. Ellery.” Georgiana accepted the teacup Mrs. Ellery passed her and helped herself to severallumps of sugar.
“Yes, that’s right. It’s just me and two housemaids, and I don’t mind telling you, my lady, we lose track of each other in this big, grand house.”
“It looks as if someone’s taking care of the stables, as well. I hope you don’t mind that we left our horses in two of the stalls, Mrs. Ellery,”Benedict said.
“Not at all, my lord. Peter, the stable boy, will see to them. He’s but a young one, Peter, but he’s a good lad, and a hard worker. Has a way with the horses, too.” Mrs. Ellery sipped at her tea. “He’s from High Wycombe, is Peter. His family has lived here for years.”
Georgiana glanced at Benedict. “You don’t hail from Oxfordshire yourself, Mrs. Ellery?”
“Oh, heavens no, my lady. I’m here from London. Mrs. Bury, Lord Draven’s London housekeeper, hired me and Martha—she’s one of the housemaids—in London. High Wycombe’s a pretty place, Lady Haslemere, but a bit quietfor my tastes.”
Georgiana gave Mrs. Ellery a polite nod, but her heart was sinking once again. Mrs. Ellery and Martha weren’t familiar with the neighborhood, and wouldn’t be able to tell them anything about Lord Draven, Kenilworth, Clara Beauchamp, or the duel. That left Peter, and the other housemaid.
“Is the other housemaid from High Wycombe?” Benedict asked, stirring his tea with a distracted air, as if he were merely making conversation and the answer was of little consequence to him.
If Mrs. Ellery thought their curiosity strange, she didn’t remark on it. “Rachel? Well, I don’t rightly know where Rachel hails from, now you ask, my lord. She’s…oh, here she is now. Is it time to try Lord Draven’s broth againalready, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Georgiana turned to find a housemaid who looked to be about four or five years older than she was standing in the doorway. She was rather pretty, with a smooth, pale face and dark hair tucked under a lace cap.
“Lord and Lady Haslemere were just asking where you’re from, Rachel. Not Oxfordshire, is it?” Mrs. Ellery bustled about the kitchen, preparing another tray with abowl of broth.
“No, ma’am. Herefordshire. Thank you, ma’am,” she added when Mrs. Ellery handed her the tray, then she turned and left the kitchen without another word.
“She doesn’t talk much, that one,” Mrs. Ellery said, once the housemaid was gone. “But she’s a good girl, for all that, and an excellent nurse to Lord Draven. She takes such good care of his poor lordship there’s nothing left for Martha or meto do for him.”
Georgiana and Benedict chatted with Mrs. Ellery for a while as they finished their tea, then Georgiana rose from the table. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Ellery. We’ll be on our way now, and let you get backto your work.”
Benedict rose, as well. “Our best hopes for Lord Draven’s recovery, Mrs. Ellery.”
