Hawthorne

7 - Eat

Camilla White

I've never seen the Duke lose his temper before.

He's usually the first to keep his bearings together, especially with his mom. Sure he's always assertive but tonight he didn't put up with her attitude. 

I am somehow pleased and uneasy.

It made my stomach flutter that he stood his ground against her. It means he won't be doing her bidding every single time.

On the other hand, it made me realize I will never want to be the target of his bad temper. 

The man's always calm and collected but he seems to be hiding a cantankerous person.

I certainly hope not, because if I happen to fall in the middle of one of his bad ones, I know my life will be a living hell in here.

And that's mainly the reason that after accompanying the Duchess and his Grace, Edgar Hawthorne to their car, I've steered clear from him.

Initially, I wanted to go check on him and maybe bring him some dessert but fear kicked in and changed my mind.

What if I go there and he yells at me? 

That could be enough to be on his black list. 

I need to keep my cool and cleaning does the trick. 

So, right after that disastrous dinner I dismissed the rest of the employees and started to clean the kitchen. It wasn't a big mess, since they know to clean up after themselves. But the dishes from the dinner were still out, as well as the floor that still had to be cleaned. 

I didn't even eat yet. I mean, after all of that tension I wasn't really hungry and now I just want to finish this so I can take Primrose to the orchard and then collapse on the bed. 

Tomorrow's a new day and the Duke will be in a better mood for me to try and plan the menu for the upcoming week so there aren't surprises like the one at dinner tonight. 

Just when I am crouching by the bottom cabinets, rearranging the pans, a ruff voice sounds from behind me: "What are you doing?"

It's enough to make me turn around with a pan clutched to my chest.

"Uhm, I-," I stutter. 

"I asked you a question," he says after clearing his throat, with a stern tone.

"I am cleaning," I confess.

"I thought I had people who were appointed for the cleaning, and you're not one of them." 

"I know, your Grace but I just wanted to keep busy tonight and sent them off early."

"Well then, the hours will be deducted from their payrolls. I don't-"

"What? No!" I exclaim, cutting him off.

His hands, which, so far had been hidden in his slack's pockets, make an appearance, only to cross in front of his chest. My eyes follow their movement, settling on his face, where  I see a cocked eyebrow.

"Come again?" He asks in a silent and calm tone.

However, his eyes tell a different story. I can see the hardness, the storm brewing inside and I am sure I've been the draw the last straw.

I, unwillingly, poked the bear. But I couldn't stay quiet when he just threatened to cut on people's wages. 

"I-, I-," I pause, taking a deep breath, trying to start again with more confidence. "I sent them home, I decided to stay behind and do the work by myself, so if you want to cut hours from someone's wage, take it from mine."