Page 35 of Tears of Gold

“What do you want to do? Do you want to work less hours, like you did with Peter? Tell me what you want.”

“Oh, Miss Hitchin, you need to tell me what to do. I’ll be your housekeeper full time if you wish. I can arrange your staff for you if you don’t think you will have the time,” she hesitates. “What did you do before you and Mr Fairclough got engaged?”

I frown and attempt another sip of my coffee. “What do you mean do before? I still do the same. I’m a student studying fine art…” this is a loose description; my priority has not been on lectures since Peter died. “And I sell work to a gallery, but I’m also going to be the host of a TV show based around contestants creating art to win a coveted prize.”

She nods. “Wow, that all sounds very glamorous.”

“I can assure you it hasn’t been.”

“You’ll be sad to give it all up though.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“Well you won’t work when you are married, will you? You will take up a full role within the family and have engagements and responsibilities to fulfil.”

“Ooh, no.”

“Oh.”

I push my cup away next to my abandoned plate. “I’m sorry, Miss Beesley, do you think that’s what I should be doing?”

She flushes a vibrant red. “No, not at all. I think it’s Draconian nonsense. But it’s the tradition of the family.”

“I can assure you it won’t be any longer.”

“I hope you are right. Now, can I organise you some lunch later today or will you be at class?”

I nod distractedly. “I’ll be at class, I think.” I glance over at her. “I’m sorry, Miss Beesley. But what exactly did you mean by organise my staff?”

“Oh that.” She visibly relaxes. “I mean Saskia as your stylist, and you have a personal assistant I believe starting later today.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your personal assistant. Laura Williams, I believe her name is.”

“And who told you that?”

Poor Miss Beesley. She’s in the crossline of fire. “Baroness Fairclough, when she called yesterday afternoon.”

“And you didn’t tell me before.”

She lifts her chin. “You were out for the day at your meeting, and I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to tell your friend.”

I slump against the table. Day two, round two. Is this how it’s going to be? “There won’t be any other staff I can assure you, well maybe Saskia because she has amazing taste in dresses, but that’s it. If you’re happy to stay and be housekeeper, then we would love to have you.” We? “But it will just be Eli and myself; this will be our home, not a franchise of the Fairclough business.”

Miss Beesley’s lips twitch. “I believe Peter told me something very similar.”

“Well that’s good. Then we will get off to the right start.”

“Can I get you a better breakfast?” My stomach lurches at her mention of food.

“No, thank you. I need to get to class. I’ll just pop upstairs and grab a quick shower.” Getting up from the chair, I glare at the offensive piece of toast. “Oh, uh. Where are the towels? I’ve no idea which box the linen from the Mews is packed in.”

“I left some folded on the Ottoman chest next to your bedroom door.”

I have no idea what an Ottoman chest is but I’m not going to say that. I give her a wave and walk towards the door. This is great, I haven’t even managed breakfast and I’m already exhausted and mentally battered.

“Oh, Faith. If you won’t be having Laura, then I guess you should know you’ve got a function this evening on behalf of the Faircloughs.”