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"Do you have a cuppa, dear?"
Mrs. Whitlow, head housekeeper for Viscount Leo and Viscountess Rosamund, looked smug as she swept into the kitchen.
"Humph. 'Spose."
Mrs. Corrigan, head cook, did not want to appear too eager to hear her friend's gossip. Which was their usual game - one not quite offering a juicy tidbit and the other not quite asking.
Their conversation proceeded, as only theirs could. Minor aches and pains, families, funerals, weather - all were discussed, sympathies and scandals duly noted, and set aside. They were favourite topics, but not the point today.
Eventually, the housekeeper stood up and said it was time to scold the maids. One of them deserved it. Someone always did.
"No rush. They're not likely to get much worse while I put another pot on."
“Silly girls don't mean to make a hash of things. If only they put as much care into their work as they put into their pranks." The last was said with amusement. There was a quiet conspiracy about pranks. If nobody got hurt, nobody got in trouble. It was well known that Rosamund loved hearing about them and didn’t mind being the subject once in a while.
“I was just up in her ladyship's room to check on the state of the, um. shutters." Mrs. Corrigan nodded solemnly at this barefaced fib. Both knew she'd been snooping. “I overheard the healer say Lady Rosamund is coming on nicely.” This was welcome, but not important enough to warrant a sit-down in the kitchen. It would come out.
“The children and that new fellow, the one they call her husband, were in there too.”
“Husband! Well, on paper maybe."
“Ah, they had a right sharp few words with each other. He came out on top, and she was smiling at it.”
HE bested HER? This was news indeed but clearly not all the news.
“Well, you know how hard she's always worked.” Mrs. Corrigan nodded. Rosamund's tireless work was respected by all on the estate. Sometimes that respect was mixed with a hearty wish for her to back up a bit. Far from being overbearing, she was so loved that nobody wanted her to work herself into an early grave.
“She was all for getting up from her sickbed and diving back into it.”
She smiled as she remembered the conversation and the children's wide eyes.
“What's being done about the security? Who's looking after the caladrious birds? I have to look into them if only people would stop coddling me!"
Leo was stunned . “ Coddling? You call a full night's sleep and regular meals CODDLING ? ”
“ Yes! ”
“Well. You know her ladyship's way of looking at you when she's angry. Not that she often is, but …”
The cook nodded. Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of that look. It was as well respected as her hard work and laughter.
“It was one of her best and it just bounced right off him. He just looked like he was working out a puzzle. The children were all agog of course.” (She didn't say anything about her reaction.)
"The coddling, as you call it, is not negotiable. We'll bring you the things you have to deal with. But . You . Are . Resting."
“You couldn't tell what they were thinking, but it must have been about that trip of theirs. Something happened to them on the way. Besides coming back married that is. Not that such as us will hear about it.”
“How did it end?” Mrs. Corrigan was leaning forward, as eager as both of them knew she was from the beginning of the tale. The answer would change the household for good or ill.
“She just got a bit of a smile and laid back on her cushions. Then she gave him a really big smile, like she gives Edmund and Charlotte, and said 'ok'."
“Hmm. There's more to him than seems. Even Lord Hugo couldn't get her to slow down. How did the children take it?”
“Oh, they had such grins. They could see she likes him and they’d found someone to help look after their mum.”
Mrs. Corrigan snorted and gathered the tea things.
"Well, I’ve got work to do, even if you don’t. There’s supper to get, and bread to bake, and those no-account helpers aren’t worth what it takes to feed them. If I didn’t see to it, it wouldn’t happen. Ah, but you go scold your helpers and I’ll scold mine. Mayhap they’ll grow into something useful. And mayhap the viscount will find an extra treat tonight.”
“And I’m off to put a bug in Magnus’s ear. He needs to know that Lord Leo is a real man, not a lapdog, for all his quiet ways. Not that he’ll replace Lord Hugo, the wisdoms rest his soul, but that man needs to change his tune.”