Araminta (Regency Belles Series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

lifted the corner of one sheet between finger and thumb. She growled. A quick prod at the pillow produced a second growl. Moving at a crisp pace, she inspected the five other rooms. An unusually-silent Araminta followed in her wake until the tour finally ended.
    ‘As I thought,’ she said, standing at the stairhead, ‘there is sufficient linen for tonight, albeit very inferior. We shall visit the warehouses tomorrow to acquire some of more suitable quality. Now, we shall tell the housekeeper to have them moved.’
    ‘There is no housekeeper, ma’am.’
    For once Wilhelmina Orksville was bereft of words. A bony hand gripped the banister rail beside the steep flight of stairs. After a moment she managed, ‘Why is that?’
    ‘Nesbit says all the staff was turned off.’
    ‘Nesbit?’
    ‘The under-butler.’
    ‘Where is he?’
    ‘I’m not sure, ma’am.’
    ‘We shall find him then.’
    The spindly figure marched on, down the topmost narrow stair, the next wider stairway and finally down two more impressive flights until she paused at a green baize door hidden at the back of the entrance hall. Without pausing to see if Araminta had joined her, she pushed it open and stalked through. A narrow hall tapered to another flight of stairs. Miss Orksville advanced.
    Nesbit was sitting in the minuscule butler’s pantry in the basement, his coat unbuttoned, imbibing a reviving glass of porter. He was pondering how to tell his temporary master of his sister’s refusal to help in the matter of bedlinen. A smart rap on the door before it was flung open brought him to his feet so promptly a quantity of the porter slurped over the tankard’s edge onto his boots.
    ‘Miss Neave tells me all the staff save for yourself were turned off. Is that true?’
    Nesbit spluttered. ‘Yes, ma’am. All but me. And cook and my lady’s maid. But they went to the country with the family.’
    ‘Why were they turned off? Were they found dishonest?’
    ‘No, ma’am. They were all given characters when they left. My lady was insistent. Sore put about she was too.’
    ‘I suggest then, you go and find them – or as many as you can – and have them come back. Mister Neave is not accustomed to be without a proper household.’
    A smile spread across Nesbit’s face. ‘Right away, ma’am. I know where a good half of them is.’ He wiped a hand across his damp mouth and buttoned his coat with quick fingers. Grabbing a worn beaver that had once been his lordship’s, he bowed himself backwards out of the door.
    ‘Now,’ Miss Orksville turned to Araminta. ‘How many maids have you brought?’
    ‘Two, ma’am.’
    ‘Very well. Follow me.’
    Miss Orksville strode out of the under-butler’s pantry. She paused. ‘Have you inspected the kitchens as yet?’
    The question struck Araminta dumb until the level stare made her recover herself. ‘No ma’am. We arrived bare minutes before you.’
    The pale amber eyes gave no indication of whether Wilhelmina Orksville considered this a failing or an adequate excuse. ‘Have you done so in your previous houses?’
    ‘No, ma’am.’ The temptation to explain was irresistible. ‘In India, Pa had a major domo to do it.’
    Wilhelmina Orksville quashed such pretention instantly. ‘I hope you realise how fortunate you have been to see such wondrous places. Most of us have not been so privileged.’ Her features assumed a distant expression. A small sigh escaped her. It was immediately quelled. The softened expression disappeared. She straightened her spine and squared her bony shoulders. ‘You will have to learn how to manage a household. If we are as successful as your father hopes – and refer to him as Papa or Father in future, not Pa – you might have charge of a considerable establishment. Any decent husband will expect you to know how to manage it even if he has a steward and so forth.’ She crossed the flagstoned floor to the kitchen door. ‘Come along.’ She pushed it open.
    Araminta