The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Twenty Five

The vistors that extended over the next few days consisted of Lord Weston and Lord Devonport, whenever they could, and Lady Delafort.

Mainly Lady Delafort.

Most days when Belinha were to give him food or water, she found them whispering and then moving apart when she arrived. It was improper for them to be in the same room without a chaperone, but she didn't say anything to cause a rift.

She wanted to be on Lord Caldwell's and Lady Delafort's good side, and since they were promised to one another, there was no reason to think a scandal could arise.

Today, when she raced downstairs after a brief chat with the Duchess, she saw Angelica's lowered countenance.

"What is the matter?" she asked the young woman huddled under the staircase.

She startled at being caught, large brown eyes imploring her own before haughtily lifting her chin. The young woman seemed to hate being vulnerable. "I have tasked myself with doing too much at once," she said before rushing to add, "though it is something I can deal with myself."

"I will gladly take the burden off you, if you are willing."

She faltered slightly. "Truly?"

"Yes, but first I must know what the matter is, silly."

She got up from the nook with more vigour than ever. "I promised Mrs that I would do the laundry and help bake the sponge cake, but I had foolishly accepted in making small meals for Lord Caldwell. She expects me to be back now but how am I supposed to do two things at once?"

That was a big problem. And knowing Mrs, she could very well get rid of the young woman if she wanted for more 'efficient' staff. "I can help make whichever you want," she offered. "Which did you promise first?"

"The cake."

"Then that is what you will bake. I will make the small meals. Since I had already asked Lord Caldwell to allow me to deliver his meals, this will be for the best."

She hesitated slightly as Belinha led the way to the servant's quarters. "But do you know how to cook?"

"Of cou—I mean yes, I have learnt at my last employer. It's ever so enjoyable!"

Angelica gave her an odd look. "You are one strange woman, Miss Price."

Belinha was starting to gather the attention of even the servants and that was bad. What if they gossiped to others and spread the word to Sir Pablo's help?

No, he's not here. He's gone back. Surely he wouldn't have come searching for her. Time would tell, but she could only hope that no one else would catch on.

She worked silently besides Angelica, the warmth of the kitchen and the smell of freshly made dough and bread wafting about; it reminded her of the kitchen in Sir Pablo, the only place she felt like she belonged, with Gloria's bountiful laughter and loud voice filling the gaps.

Here, everyone was silent, but it was peaceful. There was no lingering fear hanging off everyone's being that they would be beaten or flagged, tied to a post or starved if instructions weren't followed to perfection. There was a freedom in being a servant in luxurious families, though maybe not all, definitely in this one.

Belinha, drawing from her experience, quickly made sandwiches with thin slices of cucumber, a lemon tart with homemade lemon curd, clotted cream for scones and black tea before setting it all on a silver tray. She hadn't realised someone was watching her until the hair on the back of her beck stood up.

Angelica gawked at her. "When you said you were able to cook, I hadn't thought you meant all this," she said, nodding in approval.

Sheepishly, Belinha lifted the tray. "I do rather enjoy being in the kitchen."