“Give his boots a quick buff too,” Nicholas said.
If Johnson minded performing these duties for an additional person, nothing in his expression revealed it.
Finally made presentable enough for Nicholas, so presumably for the rest, Chase sat in one of the blue damask upholstered chairs set in a circle. Nicholas had already ensconced himself in another one.
“Who else among the old servants remains?” Chase asked.
“The butler and the housekeeper for now. I doubt they will stay more than another month. They are hoping to find the rest of the permanent staff, and their own replacements, in that time.”
“No others?”
“It seems to me that the cook has not changed, nor a few scullery maids down there. I recognize two of the grooms as having served when I visited Uncle Frederick.” He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“There are too many strangers about for my liking.” If Minerva Hepplewhite found employment here, so she could spy, others might have too. Chase regretted he had not thought to bring in a few extra eyes himself.
He pictured her building those fires, unseen by the chamber’s occupants. Listening. “It might have been wiser to refuse to host this house party, if it meant so many strangers in the house.”
“Too late for that advice.” Nicholas’s dismissive tone set the topic aside. “Kevin sought me out. He is bitter.”
“They are all bitter. He only has more cause for it than the others.”
“Hell of a thing, for a man to devote his life to something and have his benefactor remove his support upon death. It was uncle’s to do with as he chose, but some of it is damned unjust.”
Chase wondered if Nicholas included himself in the unjust part. When a man inherits a title he expects the estate to provide the income required to maintain the position. Nicholas would probably manage, but he would be gritting his teeth over the finances for years to come.
“You, for example,” Nicholas said. “He liked you more than he did most of us. You indulged his whims and peculiarities. You spent time with him, whether on his expensive pastimes or riding with him. To cut you off without so much as a farthing . . . He defended you when you sold out your commission and others were saying—” Nicholas ceased talking like a man who had said too much.
“He told me there would be nothing.”
“So you said. Still—”
Still. Had he thought in the end Uncle Frederick would drop a sentence into his will and surprise his favorite nephew? Had he hoped for it? Any man would. Yet, he knew in his heart it would not happen. The duke had many strange ideas, and some sound ones, and both kinds played a role in that will.
You will have to make your own way now. That was what he had said when Chase came back to England and left the army. Not such a bad thing. Men get lazy when life is too easy. Good minds go slack and good bodies get fat. Nine out of ten men in the ton have achieved nothing but the pursuit of pleasure. The world won’t stand for it much longer. France showed us that.
He doubted Nicholas or Kevin could comprehend how Uncle Frederick thought making life harder for his nephews would be a valuable bequest.
Nicholas pulled out his pocket watch. “I expect they have all gathered in the drawing room now.” He stood. “I depend on you to guard my back.”
“I will join you soon, to do just that. First I need to speak to someone.” Chase led the way to the door. “And in the future, do not talk freely in front of any of the servants.”
* * *
The man was following her. Minerva noticed the young gentleman strolling about the house, using the same path that she did. Although her duties with the fires were finished, she still carried her basket while she took the very long way back to the kitchen.
His presence interfered with her plan to learn the lay of the entire house, and who used which chamber. She had even entered some vacant ones and built fires to see if he would move on, but each time she moved on herself, there he was.
She went down to the library. No one had told her to build fires here, and on entering she saw why. The large fireplace already blazed, enough that the chamber had grown too warm. She set down her basket and lowered the upper sash of two windows, so the heat could escape. She would find out who had been so careless in preparing this room.
She returned to the hearth, picked up her basket again, and turned to leave. There he was suddenly, blocking her path to the door.
He looked her over, head to toe. He couldn’t be much older than Jeremy, but she hoped Jeremy never examined a woman with such a wolfish gleam in his eyes. His slow smile made bells of warning sound in her head. He was a family member, she assumed. She could see a resemblance to Chase Radnor in him, buried in the youthful softness that still marked his face.
“You’ve a wandering way about you.” His tone made it more an observation than an accusation. She could do without either.
“I am new here. I was given duties, but not a map of the house.”
He appeared taken aback. “You’ve a way of speaking that is not typical of servants.”
“I normally am not one. I am a widow who could use a bit of coin, however.” She looked down at her basket. “Doing this for a short time does not require I eat my pride too much.”
His expression cleared. A new one took its place. One she knew too well and wished she did not witness now. He looked her up and down again. “There’s all kinds of ways to earn some coin without relinquishing too much pride.”
“A few. This suits me, however. I do not mind the labor.” She inched to her right, so she stood close to the fireplace implements. “I should find my way back now. I’m to help in the kitchen.”
He stepped along with her, so he continued blocking her way. “No need to run down there. There’s so many of you here that it is unlikely the cook knows who should be working and who shouldn’t.” He cocked his head so he could peer at her face. “You are a handsome woman.” His gaze drifted to where she held the basket. “Beautiful hands. Sad that they should be ruined by such work as this.”
“As I said, I don’t mind.” A shiver crawled up her back. His intentions became more apparent in the way he crowded her.
“Ah, but I do. It’s a pity for such elegant hands to do such work. There are far better ways for such softness to be employed.”
Her blood froze. Her whole body did. She battled her immobility by finding a very hard place in her mind, one that had learned how to survive when she felt helpless.
She gave him her coldest, most impassive stare. “You must allow me to leave now.”
“Must I?” He chortled, but a hardness entered his gaze. He knew she had looked at him with disdain. “I don’t answer to anyone here, not even the duke. Least of all you.”
I can do whatever I want in this house and no one will believe you if you complain.
Her entire body tensed like a plucked bowstring. She moved the basket in front of her body and her other hand behind her back.
He snatched the basket out of her grip, then stepped closer yet. His hand closed on hers just as her other hand gripped the iron poker in the holder behind her.
He held her hand and caressed it with his other. It echoed what Chase had done earlier, but this touch did not distract her. It repulsed her. His hold hurt her wrist. Algernon had held her that way.