already settling back into her marrow by the time she opened the door.
A tall, white-haired man stood at stiff attention on the other side. His arms at his side, his gloved fingers curled slightly back into his palms, he looked over her head, cleared his throat softly, and said, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Treadwell. I am Sawyer.”
Ah, yes, the man whom Carden Reeves had said was going to inform her of the daily household schedule. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Mr. Reeves requests your presence in the parlor to meet the new housekeeper.”
There had been no servants in her childhood and she wasn’t quite sure how one was supposed to speak to a butler. Hoping that she wasn’t botching things too badly, she replied, “Please tell Mr. Reeves that I will be along very shortly. And thank you, Sawyer.”
“Very good.” His gaze dropped just long enough for her to note that he had dark brown eyes that were clear and quick like those of a bird. Once again he looked over her head and cleared his throat. “And may I extend my welcome to Haven House. If there is anything I can do to be of service to you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Haven House? If ever there was an aptly named place … “Thank you.”
“Dinner is served promptly at seven. Will you and Mr. Reeves’s nieces be dining downstairs this evening? Or would you prefer to have your meal served in the schoolroom?”
Carden Reeves had issued a command and she wasn’t in a position to disobey. “We’ll dine downstairs, Sawyer.”
“I will inform Cook.” He bowed, again met her gaze only momentarily, saying, “Madam,” and turned and marched away.
Sera quietly closed the door, listened for sounds of the girls stirring, and, hearing only the popping warmth of the fire, sighed and resigned herself to following in Sawyer’s dignified wake.
* * *
She found Carden Reeves precisely where Sawyer had said she would. He was standing in front of the unlit hearth in the parlor, his arm lying causally along the mantel, the very picture of wealth and ease.
He straightened at the sight of her and smiled broadly. “Ah, Seraphina, do come in.”
Seraphina? She barely had time to mentally register the familiarity. As he spoke, a rather large mass of black rose from the settee and turned toward her. The woman was of middling height, but with wide shoulders and a bosom that filled the bodice of her black gabardine dress all the way to the waist. She had a pleasant smile that reached to her soft brown eyes and waves of wiry gray hair that peeked out from beneath the edge of her black straw hat. A resilient woman in mourning, Sera decided as she returned the smile.
“Allow me to introduce the new housekeeper,” Carden began. “Seraphina, this is Mrs. Blaylock. She comes with impeccable references and considerable experience. Mrs. Blaylock, may I present Mrs. Seraphina Treadwell, late of Belize, and the companion of my young nieces.”
Mrs. Blaylock dropped a brief curtsy. “It’s a pleasure, madam.”
Again Sera regretted the lack of servants in her earlier life. Mrs. Blaylock, however, didn’t seem to be as formal as Sawyer. Trusting her to overlook any social gaffes, Sera replied, “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Blaylock. Welcome to the household.”
Carden didn’t give either of them a chance to exchange additional pleasantries. “Mrs. Blaylock will be bringing her daughter, Anne, with her to serve as the upstairs maid. I’ve instructed her to hire within the week a second girl to serve the downstairs. Do you have any preferences for the type of young woman she selects?”
As though she knew anything at all about such matters, Sera silently scoffed. Not that she was willing to publicly admit her ignorance. It was for precisely these kinds of occasions that people had invented good manners. She met his gaze and confidently replied, “I trust that Mrs. Blaylock well knows the requirements of the job and is perfectly capable of hiring someone who
A tall, white-haired man stood at stiff attention on the other side. His arms at his side, his gloved fingers curled slightly back into his palms, he looked over her head, cleared his throat softly, and said, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Treadwell. I am Sawyer.”
Ah, yes, the man whom Carden Reeves had said was going to inform her of the daily household schedule. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Mr. Reeves requests your presence in the parlor to meet the new housekeeper.”
There had been no servants in her childhood and she wasn’t quite sure how one was supposed to speak to a butler. Hoping that she wasn’t botching things too badly, she replied, “Please tell Mr. Reeves that I will be along very shortly. And thank you, Sawyer.”
“Very good.” His gaze dropped just long enough for her to note that he had dark brown eyes that were clear and quick like those of a bird. Once again he looked over her head and cleared his throat. “And may I extend my welcome to Haven House. If there is anything I can do to be of service to you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Haven House? If ever there was an aptly named place … “Thank you.”
“Dinner is served promptly at seven. Will you and Mr. Reeves’s nieces be dining downstairs this evening? Or would you prefer to have your meal served in the schoolroom?”
Carden Reeves had issued a command and she wasn’t in a position to disobey. “We’ll dine downstairs, Sawyer.”
“I will inform Cook.” He bowed, again met her gaze only momentarily, saying, “Madam,” and turned and marched away.
Sera quietly closed the door, listened for sounds of the girls stirring, and, hearing only the popping warmth of the fire, sighed and resigned herself to following in Sawyer’s dignified wake.
* * *
She found Carden Reeves precisely where Sawyer had said she would. He was standing in front of the unlit hearth in the parlor, his arm lying causally along the mantel, the very picture of wealth and ease.
He straightened at the sight of her and smiled broadly. “Ah, Seraphina, do come in.”
Seraphina? She barely had time to mentally register the familiarity. As he spoke, a rather large mass of black rose from the settee and turned toward her. The woman was of middling height, but with wide shoulders and a bosom that filled the bodice of her black gabardine dress all the way to the waist. She had a pleasant smile that reached to her soft brown eyes and waves of wiry gray hair that peeked out from beneath the edge of her black straw hat. A resilient woman in mourning, Sera decided as she returned the smile.
“Allow me to introduce the new housekeeper,” Carden began. “Seraphina, this is Mrs. Blaylock. She comes with impeccable references and considerable experience. Mrs. Blaylock, may I present Mrs. Seraphina Treadwell, late of Belize, and the companion of my young nieces.”
Mrs. Blaylock dropped a brief curtsy. “It’s a pleasure, madam.”
Again Sera regretted the lack of servants in her earlier life. Mrs. Blaylock, however, didn’t seem to be as formal as Sawyer. Trusting her to overlook any social gaffes, Sera replied, “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Blaylock. Welcome to the household.”
Carden didn’t give either of them a chance to exchange additional pleasantries. “Mrs. Blaylock will be bringing her daughter, Anne, with her to serve as the upstairs maid. I’ve instructed her to hire within the week a second girl to serve the downstairs. Do you have any preferences for the type of young woman she selects?”
As though she knew anything at all about such matters, Sera silently scoffed. Not that she was willing to publicly admit her ignorance. It was for precisely these kinds of occasions that people had invented good manners. She met his gaze and confidently replied, “I trust that Mrs. Blaylock well knows the requirements of the job and is perfectly capable of hiring someone who
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