Once a Duchess(35)

 

Naomi squealed with delight at the notion. “May we, Auntie?” she asked, her face aglow. “My supper shall be all the talk next week if we do something so delightful.”

 

Aunt Janine nodded her assent. Isabelle found her former sister-in-law’s excitement contagious. Soon, she was looking forward to the evening’s entertainment as much as Naomi. As noon approached, Naomi padded away to deliver the menu to the kitchen. Isabelle and Lily gazed out the picture window overlooking the front drive and chatted softly while Aunt Janine returned to her reading.

 

“You cannot imagine what he’s done!” Naomi’s voice wailed.

 

Isabelle and Lily turned at the same time Aunt Janine’s book thumped closed. Naomi stopped in front of them, her carefully scribed menu crumpled in one fist, and her bloodless face streaked with tears.

 

Isabelle rushed to the girl’s side. “What’s happened?”

 

“Grant,” Naomi said, panic creeping into her voice, “has sent the entire kitchen staff away! I found only one maid in the scullery, washing the breakfast dishes.” Her breaths started coming in rapid, shallow gasps. Isabelle guided her to a chair, afraid she would faint.

 

“Slow down,” she instructed. Lady Janine crossed to the sideboard and poured a small measure of sherry into a glass.

 

Naomi took the drink and choked a little down. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Oh, Isabelle, I’m so sorry.” She covered her mouth with her hand. Two identical tears leaked from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She lowered her hand, revealing pink, swollen lips. “She said Grant told the kitchen staff they’d not cook for the likes of you. They could either take a free day today or leave for good. They’re all gone.”

 

Janine hissed and cursed. Her features twisted into a mask of dismay and anger.

 

This news washed over Isabelle like acid. Grant’s hatred had no bounds, and now Naomi was being punished for the crime of being kind to her. Lily turned to her with sympathetic eyes.

 

Isabelle didn’t want her sympathy. She was tired of being pitied. But the old self-hatred started to tug at her, threatening to pull her under. She knew she didn’t belong here. A divorcée was wanted nowhere.

 

Just then, the butler stepped into the library to announce: “A party of your guests has arrived, Lady Naomi. Seven ladies and gentlemen await you in the garden.”

 

A rock settled into Isabelle’s middle as Naomi grabbed her hands and wailed, “Whatever will I do? It’s all ruined! I shall have to send everyone home. I’ll be a laughingstock.”

 

Naomi’s desperation was the lifeline Isabelle needed. She grabbed onto it, just as she grasped Naomi’s hands in her own firm fingers.

 

An idea sprang to life — one that would save Naomi’s name and show Grant how little his poor opinion of Isabelle mattered. Naomi would have her party. And if Grant didn’t like it, he could jolly well take himself to the devil.

 

“No, you won’t,” she said, calm and determined. Lily regarded her with a questioning look. Isabelle met her expression with a conspiratorial smile. She turned back to Naomi. “Your party shall be a rousing success,” she assured the younger woman. “You’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Isabelle left an overwrought Naomi in Lily’s capable care, while Lady Janine greeted the party guests beginning to trickle in. She made her way to the abandoned kitchen to survey her new domain. Grant could rail against her all he wanted, but Isabelle would be damned if she’d let his prejudice against her ruin his sister’s Season. Isabelle knew only too well how one foible could set all the tongues a-wagging. The beau monde loved nothing more than news of a public mishap to devour alongside the canapés.

 

Down the cramped servant stairs to the basement level she went, passing the china pantry, the laundry, and the door to the wine cellar along her way. In the scullery, she found the same maid who had delivered the news of the kitchen staff’s absence. She pulled the girl from dish-washing duty and brought her along to the spacious kitchen.

 

The kitchen contained all that she would expect to find: a large cast-iron oven and range, butcher block, pots, pans, and ample cutlery. In the pantry, she found a veritable catalog’s worth of tinned spices. The meat larder contained a few hams, poultry, and cuts of beef, but nothing like what would be required for a proper supper for thirty.

 

Isabelle found an apron to tie around her waist, then set about making a list for the scullery maid to take back to town.