Lord of Darkness (Maiden Lane #5)(12)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

Temperance said nothing, but Megs caught her rolling her eyes as the elegant, silver-haired older lady gave the baby the offering.

Temperance blushed slightly when she saw that Megs was watching and leaned over to whisper, “She spoils her terribly.”

“A grandmama’s prerogative,” Lady Caire said, apparently having heard. “Now, then. I wonder if we might discuss the apprenticeship of the girls of the home.” She glanced at Megs. “The number of children at the home has increased in the last year. Presently we have …”

“Four and fifty children,” Isabel Makepeace supplied the number. “Two new girls were brought in just last night.”

Lady Caire nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Makepeace. We are pleased that the home is able to help so many children now, but it seems that we have had some difficulties in placing the children—particularly the girls—properly.”

“But surely there is no lack of maidservant positions in London,” Lady Penelope said.

“Actually, there is,” Temperance replied. “At least maidservant positions in respectable houses where the girls are treated properly and given some type of training.”

Isabel leaned forward to pour some more tea in her dish. “Just last week we took back a girl whose position proved to be unfortunate.”

Megs raised her eyebrows. “Unfortunate?”

“The mistress of the house saw fit to beat the girl with a hairbrush,” Lady Caire said grimly.

“Oh.” Megs felt horror sweep through her, and then an idea. “But I’m in need of maidservants.”

The rest of the ladies looked at her.

“Indeed?” Lady Caire asked.

“Oh, yes,” Sarah said, joining the conversation for the first time. “It seems my brother has been reduced to one manservant at Saint House.”

“Good Lord.” Temperance frowned worriedly. “I’m sure Caire has no idea that Mr. St. John was in such straits.”

“Well, the straits weren’t financial.” Sarah sent her an ironic glance. “Godric can certainly afford any number of servants—he simply didn’t bother to hire new ones.”

“Eh?” Great-Aunt Elvina leaned toward Sarah.

Sarah turned toward her and said distinctly, “I doubt it occurred to my brother that he needed more servants.”

“Men are absentminded in such matters.” Great-Aunt Elvina shook her head disapprovingly.

“Quite,” Lady Caire said. “But having been appraised of his—and your—difficulties, Lady Margaret, we will naturally help. I’m sure we have several girls ready to be apprenticed out?” She glanced at Isabel.

“At least four,” Isabel said. “But they are all under the age of twelve and will need strict supervision and tutelage as to their duties.”

“As to that,” Lady Caire said, “I can recommend a housekeeper of very good repute, manners, and intelligence.”

“Thank you.” Megs had always thought Lady Caire a bit austere, but it seemed she could be kind as well. And Megs was very grateful. In one swoop she already had a housekeeper and maids for Saint House.

Lady Caire inclined her head. “I’ll send her around this evening if that suits you?”

“Oh, yes.” Megs felt a touch at her knee and looked down.

Annalise had one hand braced on her lap as she squatted to look under the chair Megs sat on. From beneath came a faint whine.

Her Grace had been discovered.

Annalise chortled and for a moment glanced up at Megs, tiny, perfect teeth showing in a delighted grin. And Megs’s breath froze in her throat. This. This was what she wanted with all her soul, all her heart. A baby of her own.

Last night her courage had failed her, but she wouldn’t let that happen tonight.

Tonight she would seduce her husband.

BUT HOW, EXACTLY, did one go about seducing a husband one hardly knew? That was the question Megs pondered all that afternoon and evening as she set about ordering Saint House. This morning’s efforts had been … less than successful. Perhaps she should alert him somehow? Send a note perhaps? Dear sir, I would be much obliged if you would consent to consummate our marriage. Yours very truly, your wife.

“If that would agree with you, my lady?”

Megs started, looking up into the serious dark eyes of her new housekeeper, Mrs. Crumb. They were in the dining room, which, apparently, was one of the few rooms in Saint House that Mrs. Crumb considered habitable at the moment. “Er, yes? I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that last bit.”

Mrs. Crumb was too well trained—nearly terrifyingly so—to indicate in any way that she was repeating herself. “If it agrees with you, my lady, I shall take the responsibility of finding and hiring a new cook. I’ve found in the past that great care should be taken with the employment of cooks. Staff run so much better when well fed.”

Mrs. Crumb gazed at Megs with a deferential yet determined air. She was something of a surprise. Not that Megs doubted in any way that Mrs. Crumb was an exceptional housekeeper—within minutes of entering Saint House, she’d set the girls from the orphanage to cleaning, sweeping, and ordering, and she’d so cowed Mr. Moulder that he’d not even questioned the housekeeper when she’d instructed him to throw out any edibles still left in what, apparently, was a quite filthy kitchen. Tall for a woman and with a bearing that would have done a general proud, Mrs. Crumb had black hair neatly tucked beneath a white cap and dark eyes that seemed to compel obedience in both little girls and grown footmen. But—and here was the surprising part—the woman couldn’t be over the age of five and twenty. Megs would love to ask her how, exactly, she’d risen to such prominence in her profession as to bear golden references from the powerful Lady Caire at such a young age, but truthfully, her new housekeeper intimidated her.

Just a little.

“Yes.” Megs nodded. “That will be quite satisfactory.”

“Just so, my lady.” Mrs. Crumb inclined her head. “I’ve taken the liberty of sending ’round to the Bird in Hand inn for a roast goose, bread, a half-dozen pies, and assorted boiled vegetables for supper, as well as provisions for the servants.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Megs smiled at this efficiency. She hadn’t been looking forward to a supper of boiled eggs—assuming there were any eggs left—and roast goose was one of her favorites. But was it one of Godric’s favorites? She simply hadn’t any idea—he’d never mentioned food in his letters, and from the paucity of his kitchen, what he ate obviously wasn’t high on his list of important needs. Well, that was just silly. A pleasant meal made everything so much more enjoyable. She’d have to find out what he liked as soon as she could.