The sun beat down on Eli’s shoulders as he pulled the bowstring back, aimed the arrow, and let it fly. It sailed through the air with a whistle and hit the target on the right edge of the bull’s-eye.
A round of applause met his ears as he lowered the bow with a bit of self-satisfaction. So far, his three arrows had garnered more points than the other fifteen men who had competed.
“Very nice.” Lucy Taylor, the last competitor to take a turn, stood behind Eli and clapped with the others. “It looks like you’re the person to beat.”
Eli offered a slight bow and stepped out of the way for her to take his place. They stood in the driveway of the green barn where a target had been set up. On either side of the drive, two massive gardens were just sprouting to life, so the spectators had been forced to stand on the edges of the gardens or behind the archers.
Other competitions took place on the lower grounds of the Walker and Alexander estate, dispersing the competitors and spectators throughout the property. Slowly, as Miss Taylor had moved to the front of the line, people had begun to wander over to the archery competition. No doubt they wanted to know if the sole female at the tryouts would be any good.
Eli was pretty curious too.
Miss Taylor handed her slip of paper to the referee and was given a bow and three arrows. She wore a pretty green dress that complimented her red hair, and when she glanced at Eli, she smiled—yet he could see a hint of nerves behind her brown-eyed gaze.
He was impressed she’d even try to compete against all these men, especially with so much opposition from the female staff. What drove her to want to participate? She didn’t appear prideful or out to prove a point.
Miss Taylor took her position on the line marker and placed the arrow on the bowstring. She lifted the bow, pulled back the string, and aimed toward the target. After a split-second hesitation, she let the arrow go and it landed dead center on the target.
There was a slight pause and then the crowd went wild.
Eli clapped with the rest of them, wondering if it had been luck or if she was a skilled archer after all.
Miss Taylor smiled at her audience and then repeated each step with a second arrow. Again, the second arrow landed in the middle of the bull’s-eye, just to the right of the first one.
The onlookers cheered again and Eli glanced around to see how the naysayers would respond. Mrs. Cash stood beside Pricilla, but neither smiled at their fellow employee’s achievement. Instead, they crossed their arms and scowled.
Miss Taylor shot the third arrow and it landed on the left edge of the bull’s-eye.
She had easily beaten her competitors.
“We have a winner!” the referee called. “Miss Lucy Taylor.”
More cheers and a few whistles filled the air. The pretty lady’s maid blushed and her eyes shone with delight. Gone were the nerves she’d had earlier. Now she looked completely happy.
“Our second competitor during the picnic will be Mr. Boyer,” the referee went on. “Congratulations to our winners, and thank you to everyone who participated.”
The crowd began to break up and Eli approached Miss Taylor. “Congratulations. I’m impressed with your skill.”
She dipped her head. “Thank you. The same to you.”
“I definitely have some practicing to do if I want to win.”
The referee moved the archery target to the side and began to set up the targets for the shooting competition.
“Will you still try out for the shooting event?” Eli asked.
Miss Taylor looked over her shoulder at the new targets. “I don’t see why not.”
If her shooting was anything like her archery, she might very well win that as well, and then what would the naysayers think?
“Eli.” Mr. Alexander walked down the gravel driveway. “May I have a word with you?” Eli glanced back at Miss Taylor, but she waved him away. “I need to go familiarize myself with a pistol again.”
He chuckled and she walked toward the table where the pistols were waiting.
“What can I do for you?” Eli asked Mr. Alexander.
“I just received some promising news and I wanted to share it right away.”
“Yes?”
“You know I’ve been in contact with a group of men from Minneapolis and Chicago who are interested in investing in automobile racing.”
Eli was very familiar with Mr. Alexander’s desire to find investors. His employer was capable of laying down the money, but investors were valuable for networking and connections as much as they were for finances. “Yes, of course.”
“I’ve been trying to get them to Little Falls to meet with us for months now, and I just received word that they will arrive next week.”
It was wonderful news—exactly what they’d been hoping for.
“There will be five men coming along with their wives,” Mr. Alexander explained. “Noah and Julia have agreed to host three of the couples and I will host two. They will stay for three days. We will show them around Little Falls, take them through the lumber mill, and entertain them with various activities. But the most important part of their visit will be to meet with you and watch you race.” He grinned. “If they like what they see, I believe we will have enough support to go into racing full time. What do you think of that?”
The idea of racing full time, and no longer acting the part of footman, was an appealing thought. “I couldn’t be more pleased.”
Mr. Alexander’s smile dimmed. “There will be one aspect of the visit you probably won’t care for.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ll need you to fulfill your duties as footman while they are here. Mrs. Walker is hosting a formal dinner to welcome all our guests, and staff from both houses will be needed to serve.”
Eli wanted to groan.
“It will take a lot of work to prepare for their arrival and see to their needs while they’re here,” Mr. Alexander continued. “You’ll need to speak to the footman at the Walker home to learn the particulars of your duties before next week.”
Eli hated the prospect of wearing his footman garb for three solids days—but if it meant they might find investors, and that he could be done with domestic service for good, he would do whatever it would take. “I’ll see to it right away.”
“Good.” Mr. Alexander glanced at Miss Taylor, who was taking her place in line for the shooting competition. “For now, I think we should cheer Miss Taylor on to victory. I hear she bested you at archery.”
“That she did.”
“Then it looks like you might need to take some archery lessons from her, too.” Mr. Alexander laughed as he clapped Eli on the back.
Eli didn’t need a second invitation to watch Miss Taylor compete in the shooting competition. He walked to the sidelines as she waited to take her turn. She noticed his arrival and sent him a warm smile.
Something about the way she carried herself drew his attention over and over. He admired her determination and courage, and he was captivated by her unassuming beauty, but it was her sweet and gentle countenance that really attracted him.
If he wasn’t careful, he might grow to like her more than he should, and that wouldn’t serve either one of them well.
The first two men shot at the target and received a polite response, but then Lucy went to the line, and before she even shot the pistol, an uproarious applause filled the air.
With her left eye closed and her right arm extended, she raised the pistol and aimed at the target. The gun went off with a bang and the bullet landed in dead center, just as the arrow had.
The crowd cheered even louder and Miss Taylor’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She looked baffled by her accuracy and Eli couldn’t help but laugh. Two more times she aimed and fired, and two more times she hit the center of the target.
With a bit of a stunned expression, she moved to the side to wait until the others took their turns. From time to time, she looked in Eli’s direction and shook her head in amazement.
By the end of the competition, no one had come close to beating Miss Taylor.
“First place goes to Miss Lucy Taylor,” the referee called.
More applause rose in the air and she curtsied, then came to stand beside Eli and Mr. Alexander.
“I’m still amazed,” she said.
“It appears we have a markswoman in our midst.” Mr. Alexander offered a gentlemanly bow. “You will be an asset to Noah’s team in both events.”
“It doesn’t seem possible.” She shook her head. “But I’ll do all I can to help my team win.”
If Miss Taylor’s team won, that meant Eli’s would lose—and he couldn’t let that happen, not with a hundred dollars at stake.
Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so pleased to witness the pretty maid’s accomplishments. After all, she was now the competition.
Lucy hummed as she stood in the butler’s pantry arranging fresh-cut flowers. Sunshine filtered through the lead-glass window and made the crystal vase sparkle. The scent of irises and gladioli filled the room with their heady perfume. Lucy stepped back and admired her bouquet, feeling a bit guilty that her days were filled with such things as styling Mrs. Walker’s hair and arranging flowers, while her mother and sisters spent their days in the drudgery of washing and mending clothes. Before Father’s death, Mama had been preparing her daughters to be the ladies of fine homes. Lucy had all the skills necessary—she just never imagined she’d put them to use as a lady’s maid.
It didn’t pay to think about what would never be. Instead, she’d concentrate on what she could do. It had been a week since the tryout and she was still amazed she had made Mr. Walker’s team. Since she was competing in two events, there were six men and her on the team. She’d met her teammates briefly, and she’d been given a frosty welcome. Clearly, they saw her as a liability and not an advantage. But she would do her best to win. Margaret’s future depended on her success.
With a sigh that left her feeling a bit deflated, Lucy exited the butler’s pantry and entered the dining room. Dark walnut paneling covered the walls and a crystal chandelier hung over the long table. Last-minute details, like the flowers, were being added to the house in preparation for the arrival of their guests in the morning. After she placed the flowers, she would need to press the linen, polish the silver, and write out the place cards.
She bent forward and set the vase in the center of the table, adjusting it to the left.
The floorboards creaked and she looked up to find Mr. Boyer standing in the doorway, hat in hand. He wore his everyday clothes, which were stained with grease and looked a bit rumpled. His blond hair fell over his forehead and he pushed it away, revealing his stunning blue eyes.
She stood straight, her pulse ticking a little faster at his unexpected presence. “May I help you, Mr. Boyer?”
Something about the way he stood made her suspect he was embarrassed—but why?
“Is Jack here?” he asked.
“I believe he’s somewhere in the house.” She tried to recall the last time she’d seen the footman. “He’s been very busy today. Is there something I can do for you?”
He looked away from her as he clutched his hat. “I don’t believe so.”
She moved around the table and stood before him. “I can always try.”
He finally looked back at her and let his arms fall to his sides. “I need some help, and I’ve run out of time.”
“What kind of help?”
He looked out into the hall and then leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t know how to serve at the table.”
Lucy leaned forward and also whispered. “But aren’t you a footman?”
“Yes.” He didn’t meet her gaze. “But I’ve never been required to fulfill that particular duty.”
She straightened. “How is that possible?”
He shrugged. “Mr. Alexander rarely entertains, and when he does Mr. Yankton is all that’s needed. I was hired to work on automobiles—not serve supper.”
Lucy studied the young man before her, puzzled by so many things. “Surely you found out before today that you’d be required to serve. Why did you wait so long to consult Jack?”
“The men coming to visit are possible investors and are more concerned about the automobile and my skills as a driver. I’ve spent all week working on Mr. Alexander’s Duryea.”
“You do realize it will be impossible to learn everything you’ll need to know by tomorrow.”
“How hard can it be?”
“How hard—?” She shook her head in amazement. “The formal meal is a time-honored tradition that has been revered throughout the centuries. It has taken me my whole life to observe the proper etiquette and learn the customs.”
He stared at her. “Isn’t the point of a meal to simply fill your stomach?”
“A dinner party is the height of a lady’s social accomplishment.” Lucy’s mother had given some of the most magnificent dinner parties in town before they were forced into poverty. “This will be Mrs. Walker’s first opportunity to play hostess since becoming a married lady and she’s planned each course in great detail. A formal dinner is meant to not only fill a stomach, but to provide a setting for conversation, relaxation, and entertainment.”
“Fine.” He let out a frustrated breath. “Will you just show me the basics?”
The basics? She wanted to scoff at such a notion. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Lucy, please.” It was the first time he had used her given name, and it brought her thoughts to a sudden halt. “I need some help.”
She ran her hand down the front of her spotless apron, wishing she wasn’t so aware of this man and the effect he had on her. “Why haven’t you asked Mr. Yankton or one of the other staff from Mr. Alexander’s house?”
“They’re just as busy as everyone else.” He sounded desperate. “I need to impress these investors and I want them to think me capable. Do you have the time to teach me?”
“I’m very busy, as well …” Yet, if Eli—yes, Eli—hadn’t he just called her Lucy?—didn’t know how to serve Mrs. Walker’s guests, her employer would be mortified and all the hard work she’d put into planning her house party would be wasted. “I’ll do what I can to help, but it will be impossible to teach you everything.”
He let out a relieved sigh and spoke gently. “Thank you. I just need to know enough to get by.”
He set his hat on a chair near the door and followed her to the sideboard where the silverware, dishes, and linen were stored. Piece by piece, she took out a full service and showed him where to place each item on the table. “Each place setting should include a plate, two large knives, a small knife and fork for fish, three large forks, a tablespoon for soup, a small oyster fork for raw oysters, and a water goblet. Mr. and Mrs. Walker do not drink or serve alcohol, so we will not need to worry about wine glasses.” She watched him carefully as he nodded. “The knives and oyster fork should be placed on the right side of the plate, the other forks on the left. Can you remember all that?”
He looked up, his eyes already glazed over.
“The bread will be sliced into thin pieces, and you will need to lay them on a napkin to the left of each plate.” She pointed to the location. “Place glasses to the right of each plate.” She went to the head chair where Mr. Walker would sit. “The service will move in a single direction to the right, counterclockwise, starting with the guest of honor at Mr. Walker’s right hand. Beverage service progresses to the left, clockwise.”
Eli ran his hand over his forehead. “Right. Left.”
“You must always make sure the traffic level in the dining room is kept at a minimum so you don’t disrupt the conversation. Ideally, a footman will exit and reenter the dining room not more than four to six times per course.” She moved to the opposite side of the table from him. “The only time you should leave the dining room is when you go to the kitchen to perform four tasks: retrieve the plates for each course, provide a sauce if it’s needed, replenish water, and clear the plates.”
“To serve, to sauce, to water, to clear.” He tapped each step on his fingers.
Lucy couldn’t help but smile. “If you have trouble, just remember that Mr. Yankton will be in charge and you should follow his lead. He will speak as little as possible, so be sure to watch him at all times to make sure he is able to communicate without speaking.”
“Communicate without speaking?” Eli’s handsome brow crinkled.
She went to the hutch and removed a large platter. Coming around the table, she stood before him. “You must hold the serving platter one inch above the guest’s plate to allow him to serve himself comfortably.” She handed the platter to him and their fingers brushed.
For the first time since she began to teach, he seemed to come to his senses, and he searched her face.
“After you serve the guest”—she said quickly, putting space between them—“lift the platter above the guest’s shoulder instead of over his head.” She pulled a chair out and took a seat. “You should practice.”
He took a deep breath and put the platter near her, just as she had instructed.
“Very good,” she said.
“What if they want a second helping?”
“There are no second helpings at a formal dinner.”
He sighed. “All of this is more than I ever thought I’d need to know. My father was a mill worker and my mother a laundress. The fanciest we got was on Sundays when we went to church.” He moved the platter away from her and didn’t meet her gaze. “I never thought I’d be serving a formal meal.”
She studied him for a moment, appreciating his candor. She’d never met anyone quite like him and found it refreshing.
He caught her staring and she felt her cheeks growing warm.
She stood to demonstrate the next step and shake off the strange tension that was beginning to form between them. “At a formal dinner, plates are served from the right and cleared from the left. The moment you clear a plate, put a fresh plate in its place.” She clasped her hands and smiled. “This way, there will never be an empty space in front of the guest.”
“Why?”
Her smile fell. “Why, what?”
“Why can’t there be an empty space in front of the guest?”
Lucy blinked. “I don’t know. It’s just customary.”
He rubbed his face and groaned. “This whole thing is absurd.”
“Whether it’s absurd or not, it’s proper etiquette to follow all the rules.” Lucy became very serious. “Mrs. Walker is counting on all of us to make her party a seamless affair. If you do your job right, you’ll be invisible and the guests won’t even know you’re in the room.”
“Are we done?”
She sighed. “We’ve only just begun, but I’m afraid you won’t remember anything else if we continue.”
He met her eyes, something akin to hope or desperation simmering in his gaze. “Will you be here?”
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I’ll be helping in the kitchen, yes.”
“Good.” He picked up his hat and clutched it again. He looked as if he might say something more, but then turned to leave. “Thank you.”
With that, he left the dining room.
Lucy stood for a moment, feeling his sudden absence more keenly than she would like.