The next morning at breakfast, the servants’ dining area was filled with the usual clatter of cutlery and small talk. Utley, the butler, held court as he droned on about the day’s requirements, but Robert heard none of it. He focused on Jeanne. The young lady sat daintily near the foot of the table, next to Mrs. Floyd, the housekeeper. She kept to herself, not really cold, just — alone.
The previous night, after returning to the townhouse, he’d bid the other servants goodnight and had gone to his room. But he hadn’t been able to dismiss the notion of himself as the head of a family. He’d probably never have servants of his own, but he could marry. His father, having served the previous duke for decades, had left him with a tidy nest egg. The inheritance, added to what he’d been able to save during his own years of service, would be enough to purchase a small home near the Bartlett Estate in Lincolnshire.
He and Jeanne would suit well. She was rather pleasant in appearance, and her interactions with the children at the school indicated that she would be able to handle a brood of her own. After working hard for the Peartrees, he had no use for the silly concerns most women tended to burden their husbands with. Jeanne kept the duchess’ day running smoothly, so logically she would be able to run a household.
He watched as she ate. She sat up straight, the way a lady would. She chewed with her mouth closed, so that the chewing didn’t make noise. She didn’t talk, waiting until she swallowed before answering a question someone asked her. Manners. She showed excellent breeding, as his father would say.
Where were her people? She’d never talked about family. Though Brown was common enough, her given name was most unusual. Occasionally he caught a trace of a French accent in her speech. Had she come from the continent? Did her refined manners and speech stem from a background as an impoverished noble? The revolution and Napoleon’s romp across Europe had caused countless members of the ruling class to go into hiding — those who had managed to escape the guillotine.
No matter. Whatever she’d been in the past, she was on his level now and would make an excellent wife. She would be able to instruct their children on proper deportment, and he could be proud of them. Now all he had to do was convince her.
The tricky part was to get her to see things his way. She obviously adored the duchess and might be reluctant to marry and leave her service. But surely the woman wanted a family of her own, didn’t she? Didn’t all women? She could live in a nice little cottage, and could run it as she saw fit. When the duke and his wife came to London, Jeanne could remain in Lincolnshire with the children.
Finished with her meal, Jeanne rose. Robert left the rest of his meal and rose as well. He caught up with her just as she reached the stairwell.
“Miss Brown.”
She froze before turning. Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. The expression she presented to him was pleasant enough.
“Yes, Mr. Townley?”
“I truly appreciate your assistance with the children in the chapel class,” he began.
“Of course. You provide the knowledge, and I am there to ensure the children are treated well.”
Robert’s jaw dropped. The rest of his planned speech left his mind. Jeanne’s expression remained placid, but behind her quiet voice was a thread of steel, and he felt as if he’d been cut down. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Forgive me, but it is painfully evident that you are not comfortable working with the children. They have questions you don’t answer. They have needs that you’re not willing to listen to. And they’re not neat and tidy, like everything else in your world. They know you would rather be anywhere but with them.”
“I — but—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Townley, but I must attend to my duties.” She disappeared before Robert could utter another word.
Her puzzling comments halted him in his tracks until someone coughed quietly behind him.
“Begging your pardon, Mr. Townley, is something amiss?”
Robert realized he blocked the stairwell, so no one could get around him. Giles Newsome, recently promoted to first footman, waited to pass.
“Pardon me, Newsome. I was just — woolgathering. The late evening at the school rather put me behind.”
Giles nodded. “I understand. I don’t quite know why, but the duchess has been passionate about the school since before her marriage to His Grace.” Like Jeanne, Giles had been employed by the former Lady Amelia’s family and had come with her to the Bartlett home after the duke and duchess had wed. “It’s a good thing you were able to fill in for Her Grace while she’s, er, confined.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed. “If you’ve been accompanying the duchess since the beginning, you should know how it’s done. Why didn’t she ask you to teach the urchins?”
Giles cheeks colored. “I never learned to read. Everything I know about letters and numbers is what the duchess and you taught the children.” He nodded and went on his way.
“Giles, wait.”
The footman stopped and waited as Robert caught up to him. Not wanting others to hear, Robert bent close and kept his voice low.
“Do I mistreat the children?”
Giles’ eyes opened wide. “No, sir. I’ve never seen you raise your hand to any of them.”
“But, do I treat them poorly?”
Giles paused, and Robert suspected he wanted to choose his words carefully. “You — treat them as they will become accustomed to. The way nobles and gentry would treat them. They haven’t quite learned how to be obedient and unquestioning. I’m sure their parents will sort them out.” He trotted up the stairs before Robert could question him further.
What Giles told him made sense. He treated the children the way people in their station expected to be treated. That should be enough.
Shouldn’t it?
Still, he felt Jeanne’s dark eyes piercing him, accusing him of wrong-doing, and knew they would haunt him the rest of the day.
~~~~
Jeanne knew she should feel guilty over the way she’d spoken to Robert. What she’d said to him might be seen as disrespectful, but she was trying to be honest.
Taking the stairs to her mistress’ chambers, she thought again about little Andy Sommers. She worried about him often. The bruises on his face and arms last night were fresh. His father must be home again. When she and Robert had arrived at the church, Andy was already there. He’d likely spent the entire day, and probably the night before, hiding in and under the pews.
How she would love to take Andy home and watch over him herself. Unfortunately, there was no place for him in the Peartree household, unless they hired him. But what would he do? At the estate, he might be put to work with the groundskeeper or with the animals, but in town there was no room in a domestic servant’s life for a family.
As horrible as his life was, he still had a mother who loved him. She protected him as much as she could — by sending him away. As soon as his no-good father was gone, Mrs. Sommers would go to the church to get him.
She’d seen the way Robert eyed Andy with disgust. He hadn’t wanted to get within arm’s reach of the boy. How dare he turn up his nose that way? It was no fault of Andy’s that his clothes were dirty and ill-fitting. The boy didn’t even have enough layers to keep warm. Robert had been surprised when she’d proposed a contest, and he’d seemed even more surprised when Andy had won, but she’d needed a way to give him more food. The uppity Mr. Townley might not have liked it, but she’d do it again. The boy had been so hungry he shook.
If only she could check on him. Maybe she’d make some inquiries and go on her next half-day off.
Upstairs, she found Amelia, Duchess of Bartlett, pacing in her sitting room. The duchess had always been an active woman, and society’s insistence on confinement didn’t suit her, despite her advanced stage of pregnancy. Her steps paused when Jeanne entered.
“I am so weary of doing nothing. Whoever determined that women about to give birth needed to stay at home must have been a man!” The way she spat out the last words highlighted her feelings.
“It’s a warm and sunny day,” Jeanne told her. “Perhaps we could walk in the garden behind the townhouse for a bit. We’ll put an extra scarf around your face and neck so that the duke won’t fuss about you catching a cold.”
Amelia’s eyes brightened. “What a lovely idea! If I spend another hour indoors I shall go mad.”
With Jeanne’s help, Amelia was dressed in no time.
Unfortunately, Robert was on his way up the stairs as they made their way down.
“Your Grace, was there something you need? I shall be happy to fetch it for you.”
“No thank you. Jeanne told me about… something she needs to show me.”
“Then Jeanne should bring it to you, not the other way around.”
“No, really. I need to have some fresh air.”
“I would be happy to open your windows for you. His Grace told me—”
The duchess stepped up to the valet and stood on her tiptoes to look him in the eye. “Robert. Let. Us. Pass.”
Robert slowly and quietly stepped aside. Jeanne managed to contain her laughter, but the moment they slipped out the door, she giggled.
Amelia turned to her with a grin. “Do you think I scared him?”
Jeanne’s mirth spilled out, and she doubled over with laughter. “Your Grace, you terrified him. But he deserved it. He was prepared to do anything to keep you in your rooms.”
“Yes, and that’s why Phillip values him so. He’s been a trusted friend all their lives.”
Jeanne sobered. “I’d heard that Rob— er, Mr. Townley’s father worked for the duke’s father.”
“Yes. And Robert grew up with Phillip, because Robert’s mother died when he was quite young. They were raised almost as brothers.”
Almost brothers, but not quite. Robert knew his place. As well as everyone else’s.
She wondered what Robert would think if he knew about her own past.