Patience

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Spotlight on “The Butler and the Bluestocking” in Desperate Daughters

The Butler and the Bluestocking: By Rue Allyn

The last thing Bess expects to find at their borrowed townhouse in York is a stranger claiming to be a butler. She has every reason to disbelieve him, but her family is in desperate need, so she squelches common sense and offers him a job on the spot. Pray heaven, she won’t regret her decision.

On arriving in York to visit his godmother, the honorable Malcolm K. Marr did not expect to find her house locked and empty. Nor did he expect to have to break in to the house to find shelter. Least of all did he expect to be awakened at mid-day after the break in to find a woman with the bearing of an Egyptian goddess demanding to know what he was doing in her house.

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Excerpt

“Unhand her, you cur.”

Bess ceased her struggles.

Mrs. Crewe had arrived, and from the clatter of footsteps, she had the watch with her. 

“Of course.” He set Bess away from him, but his gaze never left her face.

Bess shifted to take in the entire scene. Yes, there stood Mrs. Crewe, a fire poker in her raised hand. Behind her framed in the doorway, stood two watchmen, one just arriving behind and to the right of the other.

“Cor Bill, who’s the toff?” queried the newest arrival. “And who’s the lady toff with him?”

“I dunno, Jim. He could be the butler for all I know. When Mrs. St. Aubyn sent word she was leaving, she said nothing about if her servants would stay or not.”

The remarks drew her attention and the stranger’s.

Bess managed to stifle into a snicker the irresistible urge to laugh.

The stranger’s tawny eyes gleamed, and all his teeth showed.

No doubt about it. Those strong white teeth prove he is smiling.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” demanded Mrs. Crewe.

The stranger looked a question at Bess.

Bess turned to her housekeeper and the curious faces of the watchmen behind her. “Mrs. Crewe, I believe we’ve had a misunderstanding. Would you be so kind as to show the watchmen out?”

“Indeed, Mrs. Crewe. Here are vails for their trouble.” The supposed butler stepped forward, coins in hand to give to the housekeeper, who gave the stranger a narrow-eyed look. 

“Are you certain, my lady?”

Bess nodded. “Quite.”

The stranger, his hand still outstretched, looked back over his shoulder at her, that smile doing very odd things to her stomach.

“There is no danger here.” Bess assured her housekeeper and the watch. Why she now believed the stranger represented no hazard to her or her family, she could not have said. The important thing was to get the watch out of the house before anything else could happen.

“Hmpfh,” uttered Mrs. Crewe. In taking the coins, she was forced to lower the poker, but she did not release it. “I’ll be back instantly, my lady.” With that she turned and ushered the watchmen before her toward the front of the house.

“I think you’d best explain yourself, Mr. . . .” She wondered what concoction of bouncers the man might create to explain his presence here. One thing she knew for certain, he was no butler.

See the project page at the Bluestocking Belles’ website for more information.

Desperate Daughters is on preorder for publication on 17 May. Order now to get the preorder price of 99c

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Tea with Lord Cranfield

Richard’s cravat was too tight. It had been perfectly fine when his valet tied it, but somewhere between his townhouse and this encounter with the Duchess of Haverford, it had shrunk. To be precise, it had shrunk at that moment Her Grace caught sight of him and beckoned him to her side.

“Go and take a stroll around the room, dear,” she said to her companion. “I have been hoping for a private word with you, Lord Cranfield. Please sit.”

Richard obeyed. One did not refuse the Duchess. Besides, he rather liked the old lady, at least in part because his mother and father could not stand her.

“Will you have tea?” she asked. In this vast room, all the refreshments were being served buffet style at one end of the room and most of the guests clustered at that end. Her Grace of Haverford sat at the other end and had somehow secured a table with a pot of tea, a plate of savouries, and another of sweet cakes.

“Yes, please,” Richard said, thinking it would be good to have something to do with his hands.

She asked how he preferred it, made it for him, and served it, also passing him a plate and inviting him to help himself.

He was taking his first sip when she said, “I have been told, Cranfield, that your parents are sending you to York to find a husband for your sister and a wife for yourself.”

Richard managed not to spray tea all over his lap, but it was a near thing. “How did you…? Never mind.”

“Never mind, indeed.” Her smile was kindly. “Good luck with your quest, my dear. I just wanted to give you a piece of advice, based on my experience. Your sister is a wise woman. She has refused to marry for a title and wealth, as your parents wanted. She is waiting for someone she can respect; someone who respects her.”

“She is waiting for love,” Richard corrected, wondering how the duchess came by her information.

She nodded at his remark. “I know you are a loving brother, and I trust you to honour her choices. I just wanted to tell you that she is right to be careful, Cranfield. Marriage is for a lifetime.  I know you think I am an interfering old woman, and perhaps you are right. But I have observed many marriages over my lifetime.” She leaned forward to emphasise her point. “People think that women have the most to lose when a marriage turns sour, and they are right. But men lose, too. Choose wisely, my dear. Choose someone who can be your partner in life’s adventures, your friend and companion.”

She sat back. “There. That is my lecture done for the day. Finish your tea, dear boy. Or don’t, if you are anxious to escape. I will not be offended.”

Richard, relieved of the threat of more advice, relaxed. “Your son Haverford seems happy in his marriage,” he observed. Now that his cravat had loosened, perhaps he would have a savoury.

Richard, Viscount Cranfield is the hero of Sherry Ewing’s “A Countess to Remember”, a story in Desperate Daughters. On preorder now. Only 99c until publication.