Winter Is Past by Ruth Axtell Morren Read Free Book Online

party. When?”
    â€œNext week or so. I don’t know precisely.” He turned to Althea. “How long does one need to prepare for these things?”
    Althea put down her fork, surprised at the question. She dug back in her memory to the days when she still lived at home. Simon’s dark gaze was fixed on her, awaiting an answer. “I suppose it depends mainly on the number of guests invited.”
    He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps twelve…sixteen.”
    She pursed her lips. “A week to a fortnight should suffice under normal circumstances.”
    â€œAnd what precisely are ‘normal circumstances’?”
    Again she hedged. “A normally running household—” How could she say a normally running household had a mistress? “You haven’t entertained in some time?” she asked instead.
    â€œNo, not since Hannah—Rebecca’s mother—died.”
    â€œOf course not. What I mean is, in order to prepare for a dinner party, a house usually undergoes a thorough housecleaning. A menu must be drawn up as well as a guest list, which requires a proper seating arrangement. Foods and wine must be ordered, flowers—”
    Simon held up a hand. “Enough, Miss Breton. If you meant to scare me, you have succeeded perfectly. You make hosting a dinner party sound more complicated than passing a law through Commons.” He drummed his fingers on the tablecloth, then just as suddenly stopped and focused his attention on her again. “I know what I shall do—I shall put you in charge.”
    Althea’s fork dropped with a clatter this time. “I beg your pardon?”
    He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You can consult with Mrs. Coates, and together the two of you can oversee all the arrangements. You’ve had the experience growing up on a large estate. Mrs. Coates will be there to carry out your orders. There are enough servants, I trust, to do whatever housecleaning must be done in the interim. I shall fix the date for a fortnight from today, how is that? That should give you ample time to hire more servants if that is what is needed.”
    Althea could only stare at her employer. How had she got into this situation? A moment ago she had been eating a dry pork chop, and now she was expected to sit down with the housekeeper and plan a full-scale dinner party? She had not been a part of the fashionable world in eight years; she no longer knew who was who. And to work with Mrs. Coates—give her orders? She pictured the iron-faced housekeeper, or dour Giles, the butler, for that matter, taking her suggestions, much less “carrying out her orders.” It was preposterous—no, downright impossible.
    â€œMr. Aguilar, I really couldn’t possibly—”
    â€œOh, Miss Althea, say yes,” begged Rebecca. “It will be so much fun.”
    â€œIf you need someone to help you with Rebecca, we can have one of the maidservants help out for a few days.”
    â€œSay yes, Miss Althea, please! ”
    Meeting Simon’s eye, Althea noted the ever-present trace of mockery, but this time it was laced with something else. Was it a challenge?
    Sending a question and plea heavenward, Althea turned helpless eyes to her two dinner companions and swallowed. “Very well,” she said barely above a whisper, asking the Lord for a miracle in the coming fortnight.
    The matter settled to their satisfaction, Rebecca and Simon turned to other topics. “Miss Althea has promised to bring me downstairs to the yellow salon tomorrow.”
    Mr. Aguilar looked at Althea, one black eyebrow raised. “Indeed? What do the two of you have planned?”
    â€œMiss Althea has promised to play the pianoforte for me. Then we shall look out at the garden. She has spotted a few snowdrops peeking out—isn’t that right, Miss Althea?”
    As Rebecca chattered away to her father, Althea was too