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The Duke Sent Her His 3 Old Aunts for Winter — By Easter His Duchess Begged a Seat at Their Table

The Duke Sent Her His 3 Old Aunts for Winter — By Easter His Duchess Begged a Seat at Their Table

Chapter 4

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"Well," said Dorcas, "we shall begin with the chimney. Nobody can cook in smoke. Not even a French cook."On the Sunday, Maud walked them to church—a mile by the lane, the old ladies arm in arm in their good silks, holding their skirts out of the mud. At the lychgate, a knot of village women stood waiting to see them come. Mr. Tebbutt, who kept the shop—a stout, gray man of fifty-five with a watch chain across his middle—took off his hat to them with a flourish that was not meant kindly."Morning, Mrs. Lowry. I see His Grace has sent you his leftovers."Somebody laughed behind him. Maud felt Dorcas's arm stiffen in hers."Good morning, Mr. Tebbutt," Maud said, and walked the ladies past him into church, holding her hymn book so tight that the corners left marks in her palms.That week, they did the chimney.Maud climbed onto the roof with a rope round her waist, and the wind flattened her skirts against her legs, and the slates were slick with rain. Winifred stood at the foot of the ladder, holding it with both hands and singing hymns at the top of her voice—"To keep her courage up," she said, although it was Maud on the roof.Maud lowered a weighted sack down the flue and hauled it up, and lowered it again until a great mass of old soot and twigs came down all at once in a black cloud and buried the hearth. And Dorcas, who was standing too close, came out of the kitchen door as black as a sweep, with only her eyes showing out in the yard.She wiped her face with her apron. "That," she said, "is the first sensible thing that has happened to me since Michaelmas."
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The Duke Sent Her His 3 Old Aunts for Winter — By Easter His Duchess Begged a Seat at Their Table

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