Read Online Not Quite Darcy by Terri Meeker - Free Book Online Page A

Davy—no last name, just Davy—shouldered his way into the room. She’d met him in passing on the previous day. He served as both gardener and carriage driver for the household. He was a well-muscled young man, though his features were difficult to distinguish due to the tangle of black hair perpetually covering his eyes.
    Dora clearly had it bad for the boy, and she maneuvered her chair toward the empty seat while Davy ladled up his breakfast. While Eliza gagged down a bowlful of what looked and tasted like boiled shoeboxes, she listened to Dora and Davy converse through a series of giggles on the part of the former and grunts from the latter.
    Eliza looked around the dark, smoky kitchen, and fought a wave of homesickness. Her apartment was cramped, but her tiny kitchen table was perched by a window. It only held a view of the interstate, true, but at least it was sunny. She pushed around a lump of porridge, longing for Capt’n Crunch .
    After washing her bowl in the scullery, she returned to the main kitchen area to find Dora had gone upstairs with breakfast for the Browns. Mrs. MacLaughlin waited for her with crossed arms and a scowl.
    â€œI’m sending you to tend to the grates upstairs, but don’t attempt to light anything.” She pointed a plump finger at Eliza. “Just cleaning. I’ll send Dora along to watch you.”
    Eliza nodded and slipped upstairs, waiting for Dora just inside the parlor. When the younger girl arrived, she carried a small shovel and black canvas bag.
    â€œMrs. MacLaughlin seems a bit cross today,” Dora said.
    â€œIt’s nice to know she has good days,” Eliza replied. “Can you show me how to do the whole grate cleaning thing? I didn’t do this at my old job and I’d really like to avoid setting the floor on fire today.”
    Dora thrust the canvas bag into Eliza’s hands. While the younger girl swept the grates, Eliza scooped the soot into the bag.
    â€œSo Dora,” Eliza said between scoops, “do you know why it is that they hired me for this position?”
    Dora’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “Why, because Fanny left us.”
    â€œI don’t mean that, exactly. I mean, why did they hire me, an American? Everyone seems to be making such a big deal of it.”
    â€œAh, word is that the missus was keen on hiring an American due to her son.” Dora dumped another shovelful of soot in Eliza’s bag, then cast a worried glance over her shoulder. Once she was certain they were alone, she continued in a not-so-quiet whisper. “Mrs. Brown fancies marrying him off to an American, you see. She reckons if he gets more accustomed to them and their peculiar manners, he’ll be a little more at ease around them Dollar Princesses.”
    â€œWhat’s a Dollar Princess?”
    Dora raised her brows at Eliza. “You know—them rich heiresses that come over here to snap up an English husband. Don’t they call them that back in America?”
    â€œAh, no.” Eliza jostled the bag of soot and a little puff of ash escaped into the air.
    â€œIf you ask me,” Dora said in a low tone, “I fear Mr. Brown isn’t going to do so well with the Dollar Princesses. Them ladies are looking for titled gentlemen and our Master is just a mister.”
    Finished with sweeping, Dora scooted the grate back into place. When she looked over at Eliza, she grinned. “You’re a mess, Bessie.”
    Eliza lifted a fingertip to her cheek. When she pulled it away, it was covered in ash. “Disgusting and gray? Just like breakfast.”
    Dora stifled a giggle. “I’ll put these in the bin. Can you just get the feather dusters? They’re in the closet by the stairs.”
    By the time Dora returned, Eliza was industriously whisking a duster over a scalloped corner table. “Do I just dust the tops or go all out—legs and everything.”
    â€œBessie!” Dora wore