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Evelyn hurried down the steps to the kitchen. She could hear voices, which was unusual at this time of night. She knew that Mayson had hired a new potboy. And that he was the talk of the entire house.

“He’s so ugly,” Mollie Sue said.

And Betty, trying to impress Mollie Sue, added, “I don't see how he’s going to wash pots since he’s only got one good arm.”

“I suppose,” Evelyn said, “that Mr. Rudge had good reasons for hiring him. You know that Mr. Rudge fought in the war against Napoleon. I suspect he has a soft spot for others who did the same.”

In spite of her staunch defense of Mayson’s actions, she was a little concerned herself, and now that she was coming to the kitchen for their usual late evening meal and conference she was surprised to discover that they were not going to be alone. Mayson sat at the table and nearby sat a rough-looking man with a ragged haircut, dressed in the kitchen scullery uniform. It looked odd on his burly form, for the uniform was designed for a stripling youth.

“Mrs. Swinton!” Mayson exclaimed. That was her cue that their conversation needed to be formal.

“How are you, Mr. Rudge?” she asked.

“I am doing well enough,” he replied. “Mrs. Swinton, I would like for you to meet Mr. McElroy. He will be our newest staff member and will take Jemmy’s place as potboy. Mr. McElroy, this is Mrs. Swinton, the Duchess’ companion. She often takes her last meal with me.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Swinton” Mr. McElroy said.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you,” Evelyn replied.

“All good, I hope,” said Mr. McElroy.

Evelyn did not tell him that the entire staff was speculating on how a one armed, one legged man could be a potboy.

“You are wondering how I am going to do this job,” the fellow said.

“I am not wondering so much as the entire staff is curious,” Evelyn replied. “They are sure that you have been offered this position because you were formerly a soldier.”

“Near enough,” Mr. McElroy said. “But I plan to pull my own weight. My hand will be better here in a week or two. It is a recent injury. The leg… Well, I’ve learned to manage.”

“I see,” Evelyn said, giving Mayson a sharp glance.

“It will be all right,” Mayson said. “He has already done his share of the washing up, and a bit more besides.”

“That is good to know,” Evelyn said. “I’m sure that in a few days everyone will notice that the pots are getting scrubbed and that the kitchen is running smoothly.”

“What have you been doing today?” Mayson asked conversationally.

“Miss Notley, her mother Lady Carletane, the Duchess, and I were working on designs for Miss Notley’s wedding gown.”

“Is it official, then?” Mayson asked. “Have they set a date?”

“I am not sure about that,” Evelyn replied. “I do know that Miss Notley has an excellent eye for the garments that will suit her figure. The Duchess had to intervene to keep her mama, Lady Carletane, from dressing her in a plethora of lacy ruffles, which would not have suited her at all.”

“I am glad to hear that all is proceeding amicably,” Mayson commented. “We shall dine in company,” he added, with a glance that seemed to convey an apology. “After which, Jemmy will show Mr. McElroy to his bedchamber, and you and I can go over the menu for the Duchess for tomorrow. I saw that her physician called today.”

“He did, but not for Her Grace,” Evelyn observed, without going into the disastrous scene that followed his visit. “Still, I shall be glad to go over the menu, and point out the things she especially enjoyed.”

“So why was he here?” Jemmy asked, quite lost to the niceties of avoiding gossip.

Evelyn considered her answer a moment. “It was for Miss Notley. She had a fainting fit. The Duchess has been concerned about the young lady’s health for some time, and her own physician does not seem to be doing her any good.”

“I’ve heard about them Lunnon physicians,” Jemmy said sagely. Then, a thought seemed to strike him. “Do ya think she’s in the family way? My sisters all seemed to drop like poleaxed sheep when they was expecting.”

Evelyn laughed at his earnest expression. “No, no, Jemmy. I do not believe she would ignore social niceties to that extent. She and the Duke will be wed soon enough. I think it more likely that she over did herself during the Season and is finding it difficult to regain her stamina.”

“It is to be expected,” Mr. McElroy put in. “Stayin’ up past dawn, then sleepin’ till noon, and then up to have a round of visitin’ an’ dancin’. Work for the great houses in Lunnon town an you see it often. ‘Sides, you would not believe the things gentlewomen put on their faces an’ in their drinks, all in the name o’ bein’ beautiful.”

“Does it work?” Jemmy asked, fascinated.