laid the perfectly cooked pork on a silver meat tray and covered it with a matching lid. She then placed the vegetables into bone china dishes with gilded flower lids.
Juliet returned within a few seconds. “You can help me carry in some of this, Lady Priscilla’s orders. There aren’t enough servants here at the moment.” She gave a tight smile. “Just the Master and Mistress for dinner tonight, Mrs. Knightsbridge is having a tray in her room.” She had a quick breathy way of speaking. “There’s a party of guests coming over tomorrow. The men are going kangaroo hunting, so you’ll be needed to help me serve on the tables for the evening meal. Tonight can be good practice for you.”
Melanie rose to her feet. It would be interesting to see what Michael said when he saw her.
“ You place the food on the table and leave,” Juliet instructed.
“Are they going to use the small salon tonight?”
“No, Lady Priscilla always insists on the main dining room being used. It makes more work but….” Juliet shrugged with something akin to resignation.
The dishes of food were set out on a serving trolley. “We leave the trolley outside the room and serve from a side table,” Juliet explained.
Melanie patted her hair to make sure it sat neatly before venturing into a hallway that led to the main dining room.
Michael and Priscilla sat at a table set with gleaming armorial silverware. Priscilla wore a low cut gown of pale pink taffeta, showing off her creamy shoulders to perfection. Once again, her dark curls had been beautifully coiffured. Diamonds twinkled at her throat and wrists, but her fingers were bare of any adornment. Probably waiting for Michael to put some family heirloom on her left hand, Melanie surmised.
Michael wore a dark jacket trimmed with velvet at the collar and cuffs, and a ruffle fronted shirt. “Good evening, Melanie.”
She ignored Juliet’s surprised gasp. “Good evening, Sir.”
His mouth tightened as if he made to speak, but suddenly thought better of it.
“That will be all . Juliet can serve.” Priscilla waved her dismissal.
Melanie nearly told the Englishwoman what she thought of such high-handed arrogance. She bit her lip to stop the angry words spilling out of her mouth. Her gaze locked with Michael’s momentarily. Her feelings must be obvious to him, and she saw his lips twitch, as if he enjoyed watching her frustrated anger.
In the past she had been hot tempered. He had been on the receiving end of her fury on many occasions, so he would know what a battle she had controlling herself. The wretch actually thought it funny. With her head held high she marched through the door and into the hallway. The temptation to kick the food trolley on the way past was overwhelming.
Back in the kitchen, Melanie started stacking up the pots and pans, all the while watching Mrs. Smith putting the finishing touches to the trifles. The woman could certainly cook. Annie sat folding up table linen. She hadn’t seen such pristine whiteness or delicate embroidery since she was last here.
“When do we eat?” Her stomach growled with hunger.
Mrs. Smith ignored her question. “You can help clear the table. Remember they’re gentry, so the plates are collected one at a time.”
This woman did not like her and made no effort to hide it. Even though they had never met each other before, Priscilla must have given instructions for her to be humiliated and treated harshly. It was the only explanation she could come up with.
A red-faced Juliet swept into the kitchen. “Lady Priscilla says the gravy had lumps in it.”
“You made the gravy. ” Mrs. Smith swung around to Melanie. The woman’s face had taken on an ugly puce color.
“I never touched the gravy.” Ignoring Annie’s warning frown Melanie fought back, but stopped herself from actually calling Mrs. Smith a liar.
“Insolent as well as stupid ,” Mrs. Smith snapped as she returned to piping cream on the trifles. “Isn’t
Juliet returned within a few seconds. “You can help me carry in some of this, Lady Priscilla’s orders. There aren’t enough servants here at the moment.” She gave a tight smile. “Just the Master and Mistress for dinner tonight, Mrs. Knightsbridge is having a tray in her room.” She had a quick breathy way of speaking. “There’s a party of guests coming over tomorrow. The men are going kangaroo hunting, so you’ll be needed to help me serve on the tables for the evening meal. Tonight can be good practice for you.”
Melanie rose to her feet. It would be interesting to see what Michael said when he saw her.
“ You place the food on the table and leave,” Juliet instructed.
“Are they going to use the small salon tonight?”
“No, Lady Priscilla always insists on the main dining room being used. It makes more work but….” Juliet shrugged with something akin to resignation.
The dishes of food were set out on a serving trolley. “We leave the trolley outside the room and serve from a side table,” Juliet explained.
Melanie patted her hair to make sure it sat neatly before venturing into a hallway that led to the main dining room.
Michael and Priscilla sat at a table set with gleaming armorial silverware. Priscilla wore a low cut gown of pale pink taffeta, showing off her creamy shoulders to perfection. Once again, her dark curls had been beautifully coiffured. Diamonds twinkled at her throat and wrists, but her fingers were bare of any adornment. Probably waiting for Michael to put some family heirloom on her left hand, Melanie surmised.
Michael wore a dark jacket trimmed with velvet at the collar and cuffs, and a ruffle fronted shirt. “Good evening, Melanie.”
She ignored Juliet’s surprised gasp. “Good evening, Sir.”
His mouth tightened as if he made to speak, but suddenly thought better of it.
“That will be all . Juliet can serve.” Priscilla waved her dismissal.
Melanie nearly told the Englishwoman what she thought of such high-handed arrogance. She bit her lip to stop the angry words spilling out of her mouth. Her gaze locked with Michael’s momentarily. Her feelings must be obvious to him, and she saw his lips twitch, as if he enjoyed watching her frustrated anger.
In the past she had been hot tempered. He had been on the receiving end of her fury on many occasions, so he would know what a battle she had controlling herself. The wretch actually thought it funny. With her head held high she marched through the door and into the hallway. The temptation to kick the food trolley on the way past was overwhelming.
Back in the kitchen, Melanie started stacking up the pots and pans, all the while watching Mrs. Smith putting the finishing touches to the trifles. The woman could certainly cook. Annie sat folding up table linen. She hadn’t seen such pristine whiteness or delicate embroidery since she was last here.
“When do we eat?” Her stomach growled with hunger.
Mrs. Smith ignored her question. “You can help clear the table. Remember they’re gentry, so the plates are collected one at a time.”
This woman did not like her and made no effort to hide it. Even though they had never met each other before, Priscilla must have given instructions for her to be humiliated and treated harshly. It was the only explanation she could come up with.
A red-faced Juliet swept into the kitchen. “Lady Priscilla says the gravy had lumps in it.”
“You made the gravy. ” Mrs. Smith swung around to Melanie. The woman’s face had taken on an ugly puce color.
“I never touched the gravy.” Ignoring Annie’s warning frown Melanie fought back, but stopped herself from actually calling Mrs. Smith a liar.
“Insolent as well as stupid ,” Mrs. Smith snapped as she returned to piping cream on the trifles. “Isn’t
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