“None of Them Will Be My Mother!” the Duke’s Son Declared — Until the Cook Brought an Apple Pie
Chapter 6
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"I trust," she finished, "that you will see the necessity, Theodore."The Duke turned to Rosamund. "Did you say it, Miss Vale?""I did, Your Grace. Word for word, very nearly.""Then repeat it."She drew a breath, and found to her surprise that her voice did not shake. "I said that kindness that arrives with a purpose looks very like a bill to a child who has already paid too much."The silence stretched. Somewhere in the walls, the old house creaked. Then the temperature of the kitchen dropped ten degrees, and it had nothing to do with the range."I find," said the Duke quite gently, "that I have nothing to correct."Lady Honoria's face went the color of old wax. "She has poisoned the boy against Lady Philippa!""I did that myself, Aunt Honoria," said Master Edmund with great clarity. "And I am rather proud of it."The Duke's mouth did something complicated at one corner and then smoothed itself out."Miss Vale remains in my employ," he said. "Her character, whenever she requires one, will be the best I am capable of writing. Should any person in this house attempt to dismiss a servant of mine without my word, I shall consider it a personal remark.""You are being sentimental," said Lady Honoria with a hiss."I assure you I am not," said Theodore. "I have not had the practice."He had decided it, he realized later, somewhere between the doorway and the pie. It was not a grand decision; it was the quiet kind that settles over a man when he sees something he thought was lost sitting calmly on a kitchen stool. The cook had not looked at him once while he spoke: she had looked at Ned, measuring the boy's face for permission to stay, and he knew that look. Eleanor had worn it years ago over the heads of a hundred indifferent guests. He would not let Honoria send it away on a Friday.Lady Philippa left at dawn the next morning, but not before she appeared at the kitchen door in her traveling cloak, pale and red-eyed, with her hands twisted together."Miss Vale," she said very low. "He was right. I counted the windows. There are 22 on the south front." She swallowed. "My mother counted them first, and I was more afraid of her than of him. I wish to say that you were kind to say what you said. Nobody else has ever said it to me."Rosamund, who had not slept, bobbed a curtsy and pressed a warm bun into her hand for the road. It was the only apology she was ever to receive from that house's guests, and she kept it carefully.The Duke sent for her at 10:00.She went up the great staircase with her apron folded in her pocket and her chin high, fully expecting to be dismissed with whatever dignity the thing allowed.