Jo Beverley - [Malloren] by Secrets of the Night Read Free Book Online Page B

china!”
    Rosamunde knew better than to insist on using the servants’ ware. She was only trying to save them work, but right and proper order must be maintained.
    While the maid was off getting the china, Mrs. Yock-enthwait washed her hands. “Did you look in on that man, milady? I haven’t had time yet.”
    “He was sick in the night, and later I gave him a powder for his sore head. Since then, he’s just been sleeping it off.”
    “Aye, we noticed the chamber pot. Did you bring that down, milady? You should have woken one of us.”
    Rosamunde picked up a piece of bread left from the men’s breakfast and buttered it. “He’s no concern of yours, Mrs. Yockenthwait. Millie and I will take care of him.”
    At that moment, Millie lumbered in, swathed in shawls, and went to the back door. She came back quickly, so the chamber pot must have been gone. “What do you want me to do next, milady?”
    Rosamunde suppressed a smile at the “next.” Millie made it sound as if she’d already done hard labor. “Sit and eat breakfast, Millie,” she said, only then realizing that she was creating difficulties of etiquette. Young Jessie had just come in with the fine china, and now there was Millie to consider.
    The maid laid a place for Rosamunde, then went to get another setting. Mrs. Yockenthwait scowled. Oh, how good intentions led to complex problems.
    “Millie,” said Rosamunde, “why don’t you swing the kettle over the heat ready for tea. And help Jessie to make breakfast.”
    This seemed to reestablish order in the universe, and the atmosphere in the kitchen became comfortable again.
    “Did he say who he was, milady?” asked Mrs. Yockenthwait, preparing a rank of bread trays.
    Rosamunde almost told the truth, but then decided that the fewer people who had a name for him, the better. “He doesn’t remember. Not even how he came to be in a ditch by the road.”
    “Not surprising, that, dead drunk as he was. And you’d best not to be getting too familiar with the likes of him, milady.”
    Familiar! Rosamunde knew she was blushing. “He’s harmless. Really. He was most apologetic and embarrassed Whatever caused him to drink so much, I’m sure it’s not his usual way. In fact he said so.”
    “Happen he would,” said the woman dryly. But then she admitted, “His clothes are good enough. Or were. They’re mostly dry, and I’ve had Jessie brush them off and sponge them down.” As the sizzle of frying bacon and eggs started, Mrs. Yockenthwait added, “Happen he’ll want breakfast, too.”
    Rosamunde couldn’t let either maid take it up. “I’ll check after we’ve eaten.”
    She ate quickly, not having much of an appetite anyway, and being anxious to get back to Mr. Malloren before anyone else. As soon as she was finished, she leaped up, and over protests, assembled a tray for him.
    Fried eggs and bacon might stir his stomach again, so she chose bread, well layered with butter and honey. She added a mug of tea with milk, deliberately choosing the servants’ ware and putting a couple of lumps chipped off the sugar into the saucer. “I’ll take this up and see what else he’d like.”
    “But, milady—” said Mrs. Yockenthwait.
    Millie even heaved herself to her feet.
    “I’ll do it!” Rosamunde called with a smile, and hurried on her way.
    Once upstairs, however, she paused for courage and for thought. She mustn’t make any silly mistakes. With a start that almost spilled the tea, she realized that she’d nearly made the biggest mistake of all.
    He mustn’t see her face!
    Only a part of this was because of her awkwardness over her blemishes. He must never know who she was. If for some reason he tried to find her, he’d draw a blank at Gillsett. Then he could search the dales for years, if he were mad enough, without finding this small house. But if he started to search for a lady with scars on her face …
    She put down the tray and hurried into her room to find the painted mask she’d