celebrated opera singer in all of London?”
“We promised musical entertainment,” she reminded him with a smile. She nodded to the footmen. “Thank you, gentlemen. You did well.”
Ravenwood continued to stare at her. “You knew Miss Azzara would contract the mumps?”
“Of course not. As I have tried to impress upon you, a smart woman plans for every exigency.”
He gestured at the footmen’s retreating backs. “And if both songstresses should have arrived?”
“Then they might have taken turns in sets, or performed a series of duets.” She steepled her fingers. “Now it will simply be an exclusive.”
Distant carriage wheels crunched upon the frozen gravel of the ducal drive.
Ravenwood turned to her in horror. “Early! I knew there was no time to change course, but cousin Blaylock can usually be counted upon to arrive a half hour late to any gathering. Under the circumstances, I would’ve supposed their pace to be even slower than usual, what with—”
“Don’t make such a kick-up. ’Tis not our guests.”
“But how can you—”
Two downstairs maids appeared at the still-open doorway, one with wringing hands and the other shooting her quick, bolstering looks.
“Peggy. Martha. Do come in.”
Both maids rushed forward, nearly tripping over each other as they curtsied. The one with the ashen face spoke first.
“I know it’s washing day, mum, and I’m much needed here, but my niece is dreadful sick—”
“ Dreadful sick,” put in the second maid. “Hottest fever you ever did see, and her a moppet of not more than two years.”
“It’s not my day off until next week,” the first maid continued, “but Peggy’s is today, and she’s offered to switch with me—”
“No problem at all, mum, not when I been there meself—got four cherubim of my own, y’know. All been sick at one time or another.”
“If you’ll say it’s alright, that is.” Martha wrung her hands. “She’s just a baby, and as I can’t afford a doctor—Not because of you, mum! Your wages are fairer than anyone! It’s just that there’s only my mama in the house, and we had to patch up a few holes for the winter—”
Ravenwood cut a wide-eyed glance at Amelia as if he’d never heard more convoluted storytelling in his life. And why would he? She imagined this was likely to be the first direct contact he’d had with the under-servants since . . . ever. The running of a household was a woman’s job, and the running of this particular household had been her exclusive domain since their mother died, when Amelia was fourteen. If it had run like clockwork all this time, it was due to nothing less than her meticulous planning.
“Of course,” she said to the maids. “Peggy, you may report to the laundry. Martha, a hack has just arrived for you and is waiting outside. In it, you will find a medical doctor, as well as a small parcel of children’s books you might read to your invalid as she convalesces. Hurry now. Return only when the fever has broken, and not a moment sooner.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” the maid gasped as she curtsied, then fairly flew down the hall.
Ravenwood gaped at Amelia. “You cannot expect me to believe that you summoned a hack, a surgeon, and a parcel of books on the off chance that someone’s niece or nephew would take ill today.”
“Don’t be absurd. I had the news half an hour ago, and would’ve sent Martha on her way forthwith had she not been racing through the manor in search of someone to switch laundry days with her. Unless you object to the expense?”
That startled a laugh out of him. “Buy the girl a library of children’s books if that’s your wish. The only thing that surprises me is that those two maids were patently un surprised that you were not only aware of the problem, but had already put steps in place toward its solution.”
“Why should they be surprised? As mistress of this household, it is my responsibility to keep it running smoothly. They
“We promised musical entertainment,” she reminded him with a smile. She nodded to the footmen. “Thank you, gentlemen. You did well.”
Ravenwood continued to stare at her. “You knew Miss Azzara would contract the mumps?”
“Of course not. As I have tried to impress upon you, a smart woman plans for every exigency.”
He gestured at the footmen’s retreating backs. “And if both songstresses should have arrived?”
“Then they might have taken turns in sets, or performed a series of duets.” She steepled her fingers. “Now it will simply be an exclusive.”
Distant carriage wheels crunched upon the frozen gravel of the ducal drive.
Ravenwood turned to her in horror. “Early! I knew there was no time to change course, but cousin Blaylock can usually be counted upon to arrive a half hour late to any gathering. Under the circumstances, I would’ve supposed their pace to be even slower than usual, what with—”
“Don’t make such a kick-up. ’Tis not our guests.”
“But how can you—”
Two downstairs maids appeared at the still-open doorway, one with wringing hands and the other shooting her quick, bolstering looks.
“Peggy. Martha. Do come in.”
Both maids rushed forward, nearly tripping over each other as they curtsied. The one with the ashen face spoke first.
“I know it’s washing day, mum, and I’m much needed here, but my niece is dreadful sick—”
“ Dreadful sick,” put in the second maid. “Hottest fever you ever did see, and her a moppet of not more than two years.”
“It’s not my day off until next week,” the first maid continued, “but Peggy’s is today, and she’s offered to switch with me—”
“No problem at all, mum, not when I been there meself—got four cherubim of my own, y’know. All been sick at one time or another.”
“If you’ll say it’s alright, that is.” Martha wrung her hands. “She’s just a baby, and as I can’t afford a doctor—Not because of you, mum! Your wages are fairer than anyone! It’s just that there’s only my mama in the house, and we had to patch up a few holes for the winter—”
Ravenwood cut a wide-eyed glance at Amelia as if he’d never heard more convoluted storytelling in his life. And why would he? She imagined this was likely to be the first direct contact he’d had with the under-servants since . . . ever. The running of a household was a woman’s job, and the running of this particular household had been her exclusive domain since their mother died, when Amelia was fourteen. If it had run like clockwork all this time, it was due to nothing less than her meticulous planning.
“Of course,” she said to the maids. “Peggy, you may report to the laundry. Martha, a hack has just arrived for you and is waiting outside. In it, you will find a medical doctor, as well as a small parcel of children’s books you might read to your invalid as she convalesces. Hurry now. Return only when the fever has broken, and not a moment sooner.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” the maid gasped as she curtsied, then fairly flew down the hall.
Ravenwood gaped at Amelia. “You cannot expect me to believe that you summoned a hack, a surgeon, and a parcel of books on the off chance that someone’s niece or nephew would take ill today.”
“Don’t be absurd. I had the news half an hour ago, and would’ve sent Martha on her way forthwith had she not been racing through the manor in search of someone to switch laundry days with her. Unless you object to the expense?”
That startled a laugh out of him. “Buy the girl a library of children’s books if that’s your wish. The only thing that surprises me is that those two maids were patently un surprised that you were not only aware of the problem, but had already put steps in place toward its solution.”
“Why should they be surprised? As mistress of this household, it is my responsibility to keep it running smoothly. They
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