Read Online 3 Service for Two by Kate Kingsbury - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kate Kingsbury
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concern.”
“Yes, madam, I understand.”
“And as soon as possible. Mrs. Chubb is already muttering about vampires and such. I don’t want rumors like that to start a panic in the village.”
She reached the door and looked back at him. “Don’t worry, Baxter, I have no intention of crossing swords with Inspector Cranshaw again. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
His “Yes, madam,” sounded skeptical, and she climbed the stairs to her suite on the second floor, hoping fervently that she’d be able to keep that promise. She tried not to think about Mrs. Chubb and her vampires. Something told her, however, that this was one time when she would need to be very careful. Very careful indeed.
CHAPTER
6
Tuesday morning turned out to be a much more pleasant day as far as the weather was concerned. The sky looked washed clean, with golden-edged white clouds scudding across the pale blue surface. The crisp cold air formed little clouds of steam in front of Cecily’s mouth when she spoke to Baxter on their way down the front steps.
Although the snow still covered the pavement, the constant pounding of horses’ hooves had churned up the layer on the road, reducing it to a muddy-looking slush. Cecily lifted her skirts above her ankles when she stepped up to the waiting trap. The chestnut snorted, stamping his feet as steam poured from his nostrils.
To her surprise, Ian sat in the driver’s seat, his cap tipped jauntily to one side, his narrow face split into a wide grin.“Morning, mum,” he called out, touching the peak of his cap. “Mr. Baxter.”
Cecily returned the greeting, echoed by Baxter. “Where’s Samuel?” she asked, pausing with one boot on the step. “Is he not well?”
“Took ill in the night by all accounts, mum,” Ian said cheerfully. “Stomach pains. Too much ale and cockles if you ask me. Not to mention the jellied eels. He was stuffing them down his throat when I left him last night at the George.”
Baxter cleared his throat. “We should be getting along, madam.”
“Yes, of course. Are you all prepared for your wedding, Ian?”
“Not getting cold feet yet, mum. I reckon I’ll make it to the altar.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Smiling, Cecily allowed Baxter to support her arm as she climbed into the trap.
“That young man has far too familiar a manner when speaking to his betters,” Baxter said, his voice mildly reproving. “He’s allowed to get away with too much.”
“Oh, come now, Baxter, he means no disrespect.” Cecily withdrew a lace-edged handkerchief from her fur muff and dabbed at her nose.
“If you’ll pardon me for saying so,” Baxter said, fixing his gaze on her, “familiarity breeds contempt. Once you begin relaxing the standards, the rot will quickly set in.”
“Piffle! If you ask me, the standards need relaxing. I find some of the rules quite stuffy and pretentious.” She challenged him with her eyes, refusing to back down.
“Rules are necessary, madam, in order for the staff to understand what is expected of them. We cannot have them running willy-nilly all over the place, neglecting their duties and being cheeky to their superiors.”
“Quite,” Cecily agreed quietly. “But I really don’t think it is necessary for the housemaids to drop a curtsey every time I pass by. All that bobbing up and down gets on one’s nerves after a while. Heaven knows how the Queen put up with it all those years. It would have driven me batty.”
“One gets used to the protocol appropriate to one’s station.A curtsey is a mark of respect and serves as a reminder of one’s place. I fail to see anything wrong with that.”
Cecily thought about Gertie and her clumsy attempts which more often than not set the housemaid off balance. A smile twitched at her lips. “Baxter,” she said softly, “the old ways are rapidly disappearing. Some day it will be difficult to tell which of us are the employers and which of us are the staff.”
“I’m afraid you
“Yes, madam, I understand.”
“And as soon as possible. Mrs. Chubb is already muttering about vampires and such. I don’t want rumors like that to start a panic in the village.”
She reached the door and looked back at him. “Don’t worry, Baxter, I have no intention of crossing swords with Inspector Cranshaw again. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
His “Yes, madam,” sounded skeptical, and she climbed the stairs to her suite on the second floor, hoping fervently that she’d be able to keep that promise. She tried not to think about Mrs. Chubb and her vampires. Something told her, however, that this was one time when she would need to be very careful. Very careful indeed.
CHAPTER
6
Tuesday morning turned out to be a much more pleasant day as far as the weather was concerned. The sky looked washed clean, with golden-edged white clouds scudding across the pale blue surface. The crisp cold air formed little clouds of steam in front of Cecily’s mouth when she spoke to Baxter on their way down the front steps.
Although the snow still covered the pavement, the constant pounding of horses’ hooves had churned up the layer on the road, reducing it to a muddy-looking slush. Cecily lifted her skirts above her ankles when she stepped up to the waiting trap. The chestnut snorted, stamping his feet as steam poured from his nostrils.
To her surprise, Ian sat in the driver’s seat, his cap tipped jauntily to one side, his narrow face split into a wide grin.“Morning, mum,” he called out, touching the peak of his cap. “Mr. Baxter.”
Cecily returned the greeting, echoed by Baxter. “Where’s Samuel?” she asked, pausing with one boot on the step. “Is he not well?”
“Took ill in the night by all accounts, mum,” Ian said cheerfully. “Stomach pains. Too much ale and cockles if you ask me. Not to mention the jellied eels. He was stuffing them down his throat when I left him last night at the George.”
Baxter cleared his throat. “We should be getting along, madam.”
“Yes, of course. Are you all prepared for your wedding, Ian?”
“Not getting cold feet yet, mum. I reckon I’ll make it to the altar.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Smiling, Cecily allowed Baxter to support her arm as she climbed into the trap.
“That young man has far too familiar a manner when speaking to his betters,” Baxter said, his voice mildly reproving. “He’s allowed to get away with too much.”
“Oh, come now, Baxter, he means no disrespect.” Cecily withdrew a lace-edged handkerchief from her fur muff and dabbed at her nose.
“If you’ll pardon me for saying so,” Baxter said, fixing his gaze on her, “familiarity breeds contempt. Once you begin relaxing the standards, the rot will quickly set in.”
“Piffle! If you ask me, the standards need relaxing. I find some of the rules quite stuffy and pretentious.” She challenged him with her eyes, refusing to back down.
“Rules are necessary, madam, in order for the staff to understand what is expected of them. We cannot have them running willy-nilly all over the place, neglecting their duties and being cheeky to their superiors.”
“Quite,” Cecily agreed quietly. “But I really don’t think it is necessary for the housemaids to drop a curtsey every time I pass by. All that bobbing up and down gets on one’s nerves after a while. Heaven knows how the Queen put up with it all those years. It would have driven me batty.”
“One gets used to the protocol appropriate to one’s station.A curtsey is a mark of respect and serves as a reminder of one’s place. I fail to see anything wrong with that.”
Cecily thought about Gertie and her clumsy attempts which more often than not set the housemaid off balance. A smile twitched at her lips. “Baxter,” she said softly, “the old ways are rapidly disappearing. Some day it will be difficult to tell which of us are the employers and which of us are the staff.”
“I’m afraid you
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