A Rake by Any Other Name by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

the stew, mindful of trying to make it stretch for the entire company.
    â€œWhat did you make of Miss Goodnight?” Drucilla asked Mr. Hightower.
    Wish someone would ask me what I made of her. I’d give them summat what would curl their hair.
    Of course, Eliza knew better than to speak before she was spoken to in the common room while the others were dining. She was ever conscious of her place as the servant of servants. It was important to do things correctly if she hoped to get on in the big house. With any luck at all, she’d work up to being a chambermaid soon. She could wear a smart uniform and not have to sneak around upstairs.
    â€œDrucilla, I find the question grossly impertinent,” Mr. Hightower said. “It is not our place to comment on the guests of this house.”
    â€œNot even if that guest is about to become Lady Hartley,” Drucilla muttered.
    â€œThat’s enough, Dru,” Mrs. Grahame said before Mr. Hightower could get up a full head of steam. “We none of us have a window to the future, so let’s not be getting ahead of ourselves. The Family invited the Goodnights, so we must show them Somerfield’s best face and not fret over what changes may be coming.”
    â€œSpeaking of changes,” Toby Welch, the second footman, said as he breezed in and plopped down next to Sarah. “Since Lord Hartley is back, he’ll be needing a valet, Mr. Hightower. Have you decided whether it’ll be me or David?”
    â€œI have not yet made my decision,” Mr. Hightower said with a frown.
    Toby was always pushing himself forward, Eliza thought. But if a chap didn’t toot his own horn, who would?
    â€œBetter let us know before he’s ready to turn in for the night.”
    Mr. Hightower sent him a frosty glance. “This is not the appropriate venue for that discussion.”
    Toby’s chair must have been a bit too close, because Sarah scooted hers a few inches away.
    If Toby Welch sat down next to me, I wouldn’t scoot away.
    Toby was tall and well favored with light brown hair that glinted with gold and russet highlights. He was handsome after the manner of footmen. They were always the most presentable young men in the house. Eliza had to tear her eyes from him, lest he mark her interest and begin teasing her.
    â€œA kitchen maid shouldn’t get above herself,” Mrs. Culpepper always said.
    But I can’t very well get below myself either. There’s precious little beneath me, Eliza had thought furiously at the time but didn’t say. Sometimes she wondered if unspoken thoughts would build up in her, and someday she’d burst from all the ones she hadn’t let escape out her mouth.
    Toby helped himself to the bread basket in the center of the table. “Well, either way, it’s an advancement for me,” he said with good cheer. “If David’s made Lord Hartley’s valet, that means I’ll be first footman, won’t I?”
    â€œYou’ll be the only footman, Toby,” Sarah said. “There’s a difference.”
    â€œWell, be that as it may, this was a different sort of dinner party tonight, weren’t it? Mr. Goodnight’s naught but a glorified shopkeeper. My father runs the dry goods shop in the village,” Toby went on with a laugh. “Do you suppose his lordship will ask him to tea one of these days? By God, this house is becoming positively republican.”
    Tension roiled off Mr. Hightower like a pot near to boiling as he glared at Toby, who was too busy slathering butter on his bread to notice. Finally, the footman realized that the rest of the company had laid aside their spoons and were waiting in silence for what must surely come. He glanced at Mr. Hightower, whose face had flushed an unhealthy shade of puce.
    â€œThe occupations or stations of the guests of Somerfield Park have no bearing on how we treat them, Toby,” the butler said evenly. The