Secrets of Sloane House(80)

“I’ll find another staff member to help me.” She turned and started walking down the hallway toward the stairs, then gingerly began the long journey down. Her arms were shaking from the weight of the tray. But she kept her chin up and was bound and determined not to lose her composure . . . or the tray.

Just as she got to the marble entryway, Benjamin hurried to her side. “Need a hand?”

“If you could direct me to the kitchens, I would appreciate it. And, please, may we not argue this point? It is fairly heavy.”

“It’s this way.” With a new resolve, she followed the valet toward the kitchens, bracing herself to be unwelcomed into the private sanctuary of the servants’ rooms.

She was pleased, however, to have stood her ground with Reid. The Armstrongs needed to remember who they were and where they came from as well as her own station in life. Remembering the line that neither could cross was necessary.

For all of them.



Reid watched Rosalind walk down the stairs, then accept Benjamin’s guidance to the kitchens. To his chagrin, he felt a bit jealous. He, not his valet, was the one who knew her well. He should be the one helping her.

And that, he realized, was why he needed to remember his mother’s warning. Maybe her words did have merit. Obviously, Rosalind still was very aware of their stations, and perhaps he should remember that too. Maybe there really couldn’t be anything between him and Rosalind beyond giving her a helping hand.

Deciding that this encounter had been just the thing he needed to remember his place, he glanced at his pocket watch, saw that it wasn’t too late to pay a call, and decided to go call on Eloisa Carstairs. He’d enjoyed talking with her at that dinner party, and she was the perfect candidate for a wife.

He shouldn’t waste another moment in pursuing her.

As his driver drove the carriage to Eloisa’s house, Reid knew he would talk to her about the Sloanes and their maids as well. Perhaps she would know something about their household staff that he wasn’t aware of. After all, women were insightful like that. They were able to see many personality conflicts of which men were blissfully unaware.

He presented his calling card to Eloisa’s butler. He looked at the card, gazed at Reid, and smiled politely. “Yes, sir. I’ll inform Miss Eloisa that you have called.”

Less than two minutes later, the butler guided him through a maze of rooms and out to a solarium. When Reid had visited before during a social call with his mother, they’d been directed to the formal receiving room. The solarium was far more private. It was also one of the prettiest rooms he’d ever been in. Bright and airy, the room boasted large picture windows and a pair of French doors that opened onto a stone patio.

And there, on the patio, stood Eloisa. Her back was to him. She was wearing a light blue frock that was undoubtedly an expensive work of art, with its many flounces, tucks, and pleats. The effect was charming. As if she sensed his presence, she turned and caught his eye. Smiled softly.

She was so beautiful that she almost literally took away his breath. Right then and there, Reid decided her gown was worth every penny.

The butler stood at attention. “Miss Eloisa is outside, sir. She asked that you join her out there?”

“Yes, that would be pleasant.” With a nod, he added, “I’ll let myself out. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.” The butler nodded again, then left the solarium quietly, leaving Reid to stare at Eloisa a little bit longer before striding outside.

She held out both hands to him. “Reid, this is a surprise.”

“But a welcome one, I hope?” he asked as he squeezed both her hands gently.

“Very much so.” She smiled again, then bent down and picked up a pair of garden clippers. “I was just about to cut some flowers. My mother is hosting a dinner later this evening.”

“I’ll hold your basket for you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She smiled again, then turned back to the grouping of rosebushes, their appealing fragrance warring with their red and gold beauty. Eloisa fingered a gold-tipped blossom before deftly snipping off the stem and gently placing it in the basket Reid had retrieved from a nearby table.

As she turned to clip another stem, she said, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Would you believe me if I said I merely wanted to see you?”

She snipped another stem. “I would be flattered. But I wouldn’t believe you.” She grinned as she clipped another stem, a blood-red rose this time. “You are not the kind of man to pay calls for no reason.”

He considered disputing that, but opted for telling the truth instead. “I came over for your help. And to discuss our future with you.”