"Then perhaps it would be advisable for me to review the outstanding obligations and arrange for their settlement," she suggested, hoping that her voice conveyed more confidence than she felt about managing financial matters on such a scale.
The visible relief that crossed Mrs. Cromwell's weathered features was both gratifying and terrifying, confirming that her inexperience was indeed expected to solve problems that had been festering for months. How presumptuous it seemed tobelieve that she could succeed where others had failed, yet what choice did she have but to attempt what was expected of her?
"Now then," she continued, her voice gaining strength from necessity, "I should like to tour the household offices and meet with the senior staff individually. It seems prudent to understand each person's particular responsibilities before implementing any changes to our current arrangements."
The words sounded appropriately authoritative, though inwardly she quailed at the prospect of evaluating servants whose expertise far exceeded her own. What if they challenged her decisions? What if they recognized her inexperience and refused to accept her authority? The fear of exposure as an imposter gnawed at her confidence, even as she forced herself to proceed with the tour.
The butler's pantry, which should have been a model of organization and efficiency, showed clear signs of neglect that would have been unthinkable in any well-managed household. Yet as Evangeline observed the tarnished silver and stained linens, she found herself wondering if her own standards were appropriate to judge such matters. Perhaps what seemed like carelessness to her was actually the normal state of affairs in great houses, and her concerns merely reflected her humble origins.
"Higgins," she addressed the elderly butler with careful courtesy, fighting the impulse to apologize for questioning his methods, "I observe that some of our silver appears to require attention. Might I inquire about the current schedule for its maintenance?"
The butler's obvious discomfort at having his domain subjected to scrutiny made her stomach clench with sympathetic embarrassment. Who was she to criticize a man who had served the Ravenshollow family for decades? Yet the silver was undeniably tarnished, and surely a duchess had both the rightand the duty to maintain proper standards.
"Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but we have been somewhat understaffed in recent months. The silver cleaning has been postponed in favour of more pressing duties."
"I understand completely, Higgins. However, I believe it would be advisable to restore our previous standards of maintenance, even if doing so requires additional assistance. A duke's household should reflect appropriate dignity in all its appointments."
The words emerged with more authority than she had expected, though she wondered if she sounded as uncertain to Higgins as she did to herself. Was this how duchesses were supposed to behave? How could she be certain that her expectations were reasonable rather than the naive demands of someone unaccustomed to managing a great household?
"Certainly, Your Grace. I shall see to the matter immediately."
"Thank you, Higgins. I have every confidence in your ability to restore our silver to its proper condition."
The exchange felt like a small victory, though she could not shake the feeling that she was playing a role rather than exercising legitimate authority. Perhaps all new duchesses felt this way, uncertain of their ground and afraid of making mistakes that would reveal their inexperience to those they were meant to command.
Her inspection of the kitchen proved even more daunting, as Mrs. Patterson—a formidable woman who had clearly ruled her domain with undisputed authority for many years—presented the sort of challenge that made Evangeline acutely conscious of her own inadequacies.
"Your Grace," Mrs. Patterson acknowledged with a curtsey that was technically correct yet somehow managed to convey skepticism about accepting direction from someone so obviouslyout of her depth, "I trust you find our arrangements satisfactory?"
The cook's penetrating gaze made Evangeline feel like a fraud, as though her true identity as a captain's daughter with no experience managing anything bigger than a cottage kitchen might be detected at any moment. How could she presume to evaluate the work of someone who had been preparing meals for ducal tables since before she was born?
"The kitchen appears very well-organized, Mrs. Patterson. I am particularly impressed by the cleanliness of your preparation areas and the evident care you take with our storage."
The compliment was genuine, though she wondered if it sounded as tentative to Mrs. Patterson as it did to her own ears. Perhaps praising the cook's work would establish a foundation of mutual respect before she ventured into more delicate territory.
"I wonder if I might discuss the current menus with you? I should like to understand what provisions are made for varying the family's dining arrangements according to circumstances."
The request felt impossibly presumptuous, as though she were questioning the judgment of someone infinitely more qualified than herself. What did she know about managing menus for a ducal household? Her experience extended little beyond ensuring that her father's simple preferences were accommodated within their modest budget.
"His Grace has simple tastes, Your Grace. He prefers plain food, served without fuss or ceremony. I have endeavoured to accommodate his preferences throughout his residence here."
The defensive tone suggested that Mrs. Patterson viewed any inquiry about her menus as implicit criticism, though Evangeline suspected the cook's resistance stemmed more from doubt about her new mistress's qualifications than any real objection to change.
"I am certain His Grace has been most satisfied with your efforts, Mrs. Patterson. However, as we shall occasionally be entertaining guests, it might be wise to expand our repertoire somewhat. Perhaps you might prepare a selection of your finest dishes for my review?"
The words emerged with creditable authority, though inwardly she cringed at the presumption of requesting such a demonstration. What qualified her to judge elaborate dishes when her own culinary experience was limited to the simple fare of a country gentleman's table?
"If Your Grace wishes, I shall do it, though I confess myself uncertain as to what manner of entertaining you have in mind. His Grace has not received visitors for some considerable time."
"That situation will be changing, Mrs. Patterson. A duke and duchess have certain social obligations that cannot be neglected indefinitely, regardless of personal inclination."
The statement was delivered with more confidence than she felt about navigating the complex requirements of noble entertaining. How was she supposed to manage dinner gatherings and house balls when she had never attended anything grander than a county assembly? The very thought of presiding over formal dinners filled her with dread, yet such duties were clearly expected of her position.
It was while making her way back to the main house through the stable yard, still reeling from the magnitude of her new responsibilities, that she encountered the sight that would occupy her thoughts for the remainder of the day. In a clean stall near the tack room, carefully bedded with fresh straw and provided with both food and water, lay a small dog that she recognized immediately despite its vastly improved condition.
The puppy from the previous day's estate tour had been transformed almost beyond recognition. Its coat was now clean and carefully brushed to reveal rich golden-brown fur markedwith appealing white patches. Though still thin from its recent hardships, it appeared alert and comfortable, a living testament to the power of compassionate care.
"Good heavens," she murmured, approaching the stall with complete bewilderment. How had this suffering creature come to be residing in the ducal stables, receiving what appeared to be excellent care from someone who had clearly invested considerable effort in its welfare?
