“Need?” Mrs. Long said in surprise.
“Yes, I can see the staircase up to the breakfast room could do with some work, but is there anything else you need?” Frederica asked. She saw at once a flicker on Mrs. Long’s face that betrayed there was something needed though Mrs. Long hid it fast and smiled.
“All is well, My Lady.”
“Please, feel free to share things with me,” Frederica pleaded with the two women. “This is to be my home, now, and I wish to be of use to it and to you all. Never feel afraid of talking about anything with me.”
Mrs. Long and Lucy looked at one another, a curious and hopeful expression between them.
“Well?” Frederica softened. “What is it I can do for you?”
* * *
Allan stared at the empty chair beside him at the breakfast table. The table was all set up for breakfast, he was there waiting for his wife, and yet she… was nowhere to be seen.
He kept glowering at that empty chair, a sadness rising within him.
The day before, on their tour of the house, Allan had been determined to conjure one of those smiles in Frederica that Dorothy and Charlotte could conjure, but he’d had no luck. Instead, he had just earned her telling him she didn’t mind if he had a lover.
Like I would ever take a lover now.
The door from the servants’ stairwell opened. Allan turned toward it, amazed not because his breakfast was being brought in by the staff, but behind them, Frederica came in too.
He sat back in alarm in his seat as she moved toward him.
“Good morning, My Lord,” she said pleasantly enough though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she stood beside him.
The maids and manservants placed down honeyed cake and freshly baked bread, along with fruit and pots of tea and coffee, then they returned to the stairwell.
“Good morning,” Allan said in surprise as Frederica stood beside him, looking over what appeared to be notes she had scribbled across various pages of paper she had made. “I thought I had explained that I wished you to call me Allan,” he softened his voice as he spoke, wary of the staff overhearing them.
The staff closed the door behind them in the stairwell though swiftly enough, and he could talk at a normal volume again.
“My name is Allan, Frederica.” He tried to keep all anger out of his voice which had been there the day before when she had talked about lovers.
Let us start again today.
“Allan.” She looked up and met his gaze, and then the most wonderful thing happened. She blushed. It was the sweetest of pinkening to her cheeks, and the smile she offered was a truly pleasant one — not quite as full as those she shared with his sister, but it was a start.
Then it was over all too swiftly as she turned to look down again at her notes.
“I was wondering if we have a budget for making changes to the house? Some renovations,” she explained, sifting between her notes.
“Frederica.” He gestured to the chair beside him though she took no notice.
“I wish to be of use to this house. If I am now your wife, a marchioness…” She hesitated, looking rather panicked by this thought. “… then I would like to help.” She offered up her notes to him. “This chamber could do with updating as could the music room. I’m also concerned this stairwell for the servants is something of a hazard. I’ve just been hearing that two maids have fallen on it this last month.”
“Fallen?” he said in alarm, taking the note from her. “Mrs. Long didn’t tell me.”
“They are also in need of a new bread oven downstairs.”
Allan looked down the lists she had given him. There were indeed changes she wished to make to the house, but something he found both curious and warming was that the list for the servants’ quarters was greater than the list she had made for the two of them.
She wishes to help them.
“This room, too — it’s so pleasant and has such a nice view of your rose garden; I thought we could do more with it.” She was in full throw now, something pleasant to see indeed. “We could bring in some green colors and maybe some more plants.”
“Frederica—” Allan tried to get a word in edgeways.
