Page 16 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Scholar
Winifred blinked. She’s nearly forgotten her new title. It would be difficult to get used to being referred to in such a manner. She was tempted to tell the maid to call her by her given name, but she knew enough about the social hierarchy of a proper household to dismiss the idea. It would only strain her relationship with the staff, who would most likely prefer formality.
Not to mention, if Winifred’s mother heard any of the servantsspeaking so casually to their new employer, Mrs. Belltree would undoubtedly express her disapproval by making herself even more of a nuisance than usual.
The young maid rose from her curtsey. “I am Flora Keenan.”
“Keenan,” Winifred repeated.
The maid turned to the wardrobe. “What would you like to wear today, my lady?”
“The indigo print cotton day dress with the cap sleeves,” she said. It was fine enough for her tour of the castle, but not so tight-fitting that she would be uncomfortable. After her family departed, she would endeavor to find out how to purchase new garments, but for now, the clothing she had transported from Toronto would suffice.
When Keenan had dressed her and tamed her wild hair by braiding it into a lovely plait, Winifred felt ready to take up her responsibilities. It would be a long day, but her mother had seen to it she’d achieved a proper education that had included everything the wife of a lord had to know.
Even if she’d rather have spent the day reading.
Hours later, as she bit into her third cucumber sandwich from inside the glass-enclosed solarium she’d discovered on the second floor, she cursed her poor choice of slippers. The halls were almost entirely without carpeting or rugs, which meant that much less padding between the sensitive soles of her feet and the hard stone. She would have to invest in better footwear as soon as possible.
The morning had been a flurry of activity. Mrs. Gillanders had insisted upon leading her through the entire building, even having the staff line up along the wall. There weren’t nearly as many servants as she’d expected, perhaps because Marcus was not known for entertaining. She was now the employer of nearly fifty people, most of whom lived in the village. That was a surprise, as the castle was more than large enough to house twice as many. When she’d asked Mrs. Gillanders, the woman had blushed and muttered something aboutghosts that had made Winifred chuckle. After that, Winifred had approved menus and selected activities to entertain her guests for the afternoon. The scope of it all was exhausting, but it was a small price to pay. In a few days, her guests would leave, and then she would be free.
Assuming Marcus kept his promises.
“Did you have a restful night?” Felicity asked as she dipped a biscuit into her tea. She had joined Winifred during her tour of the castle. Mrs. Gillanders had huffed at the addition, but Winifred hadn’t had the heart to send her cousin away.
“I assisted Marcus in his workshop,” Winifred said.
Felicity’s grin fell. “You spent your first night as a married woman engaged in ascientific inquiry?” She chuckled. “I should not be surprised. Perhaps I was wrong when I counseled you against this marriage. It does seem to suit you.”
“I would hope so. That is why I came all the way across the ocean, after all. If all I’d wanted was a suitable marriage, I could have chosen from the many eligible gentlemen in Toronto.” What Marcus offered was invaluable; an opportunity to be closer to her cousin and pursue her research to her heart’s content. Most men would have insisted she occupy her time with more ladylike pursuits. Felicity’s brother, Vincent, for example, had once bribed a maid into helping him steal books from Winifred’s bedchamber after she’d slighted him in public. She couldn’t imagine Marcus ever behaving so pettily.
“Did you ask him about hiring me?” Felicity asked.
Winifred shook her head. “The moment did not feel right. I am waiting for the perfect opportunity to increase the chances of success.”
She picked up a garlic and cheese scone. They were buttery and soft without being too crumbly. She ate two before a servant arrived with a glass dish containing something called Cranachan. At the first bite, she closed her eyes and sighed. The combination of oats, honey, and fresh raspberrieswas delightful.
Felicity spun her saucer in circles with her fingertips. “I cannot stop thinking that this entire situation is unusual. Have you noticed there are hardly any mirrors, and every window has thick drapes? It makes me wonder what the earl is trying to hide.”
Winifred sipped her drink to keep from responding with a sharp retort. First Felicity had cautioned her against marrying Marcus, then she’d had suggested Winifred’s new husband was dangerous, and now this? It was difficult not to feel insulted on Marcus’s behalf. “He simply prefers solitude.”
“Perhaps,” Felicity said. “But then why ask you to come all this way?”
Winifred tamped down her irritation. “What do you mean?”
Felicity heaved a sigh. “Why find a wife in Canada when there are plenty of ladies in Scotland who would have leaped at a chance to become a countess? There must be something else the earl wants from you.”
“An assistant,” Winifred said quickly, but her words lacked the conviction she’d intended. A small part of her shared Felicity’s concern. Marcus was wealthy, handsome, and titled. The daughter of newly wealthy merchants was hardly an excellent match in comparison.
“I envy you,” Felicity blurted out.
Winifred almost choked. Her daring cousin, a woman who refused to back down from any challenge, no matter how foolish…envied her. The bookish wallflower who spent so much time lost in books that there was a chaise in her parents’ library permanently impressioned with the shape of her body. It was so ridiculous, it made her burst into laughter.
“It’s true,” Felicity said. She furrowed her brow and stared into her empty cup. “You knew exactly what you wanted and when an opportunity presented itself, you seized it.” Her shoulders slumped. “Meanwhile, our uncle will not even grant me an audience to discussmy future, and Vincent spends several nights a month working on a secret project in the basement.”
Vincent working on a secret project? Winifred thought that unlikely. The man had never expressed an interested in science or crafts.
Felicity pursed her lips. “Lately, I feel like an intruder in my own home.”
Winifred reached across the table and put her hand on top of her cousin’s. “I’m sorry. You have my word that I will speak to the earl about it today.”
