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Frances chuckled. “Pardon me for saying so, but I don’t think she likes herself, that woman.”

Ciara couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “She just seems so serious and strict all the time.”

“She is,” Frances noted. “It is simply how she is. And just like with His Grace, there is more to her than meets the eye. She is very hardworking and loyal to the family. She has been with them ever since His Grace was born.”

“I see,” Ciara nodded. “That is why it is so important to me that she accepts me.”

That was when Ciara remembered Jonathan’s words.Two months. Separate lives.The thought rang inside her mind like a million church bells, reminding her that she might not be living there at all, after the expiration of those two months. Jonathan would be able to send her away to any part of his estate, and she would not have any say in it. The thought saddened her.

“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” Frances asked softly. Her voice brought Ciara back to the present moment.

“Yes, of course,” she smiled with reassurance. “I was just thinking of all the things I still need to do today.”

Frances nodded approvingly. “You do all your work diligently. You ensure that everyone feels valued and respected. Though, Imust say, Your Grace, you should not forget to take some time for yourself. You deserve a moment of peace as well.”

Ciara sighed softly, sipping her tea. “You are right, Frances. This past week has been a whirlwind. I have been so focused on my duties that I have hardly had a moment to relax.” She thought about it for a moment then she smiled. “You know what? I shall do exactly that now. Frances, would you be so kind as to bring me a few scones with strawberry jam? I wish to enjoy them with my tea.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Frances smiled in agreement.

As she turned around, her foot caught on a nearby, protruding root, and she stumbled. She leaned to the side, pushing the table, sending the teapot, cup, and plate tumbling to the ground with a clatter.

“Oh, no!” Frances exclaimed, dropping to her knees in dismay. “I am so sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to?—”

Before Frances could finish her sentence, Ciara was already beside her, kneeling on the grass and reaching out to help. “It is quite all right, Frances. Accidents happen,” she said reassuringly, picking up the teapot and setting it upright.

Frances looked up, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “But Your Grace, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with this. It is my mistake to rectify.”

“Nonsense,” Ciara replied with a dismissive wave of the hand. “It isn’t so hard to pick up a few dishes and put them back on the table. Besides, a little spill cannot do anything to ruin my peaceful morning.” She picked up the tray and the teacup with the plate. “Now, why don’t you go fetch us some more tea and don’t forget about those scones, Frances. I would like you to join me for a moment here, so we can enjoy this moment together.”

Frances nodded gratefully, her eyes shining with appreciation. “Thank you, Your Grace. You are very kind.”

“Kindness is the least I can offer, Frances,” she assured the girl. “You have been such a great help to me, and I value your company.”

Frances lingered for a moment, completely taken aback by the words, when she fumbled with the tray, nodding and turning around to fulfill her task. Ciara smiled as she watched Frances disappear back into the house, then she closed her eyes.

Frances had become an unexpected ally in this house, and Ciara hoped that there would be more. However, she knew that she had to prove herself to them first. Especially to Mrs. Dawson.

CHAPTER 15

The following day, Ciara was walking through the corridor when she suddenly heard a commotion in the main hall. There were two voices discussing something obviously urgent. One voice belonged to the housekeeper, while the other was one of the servants.

Curious and concerned by the raised voices, she hurried toward the main hall, finding both women in a state of distress.

“What do you mean it is not working?” Mrs. Dawson demanded, her stern voice even sterner than her usual demeanor.

“It has gone completely cold,” the servant girl explained apologetically, looking down at her feet as if it were her own fault.

“Well, get Mr. Thornby to fix it.” Mrs. Dawson immediately came up with a solution as Ciara lingered on the last stair, notwishing to intrude on their conversation but still curious to find out what was all the commotion about.

“Mr. Thornby is not here,” the servant girl clarified with equal concern. “He has taken the day off.”

Mrs. Dawson frowned. “Always in the worst possible moment, isn’t it?” she sighed heavily. “And what about Mr. Huxley or Mr. Gibbons?”

“They already left,” the servant girl’s whiny voice replied.

Ciara knew that some of the workers at the manor house did not live there. They spent several hours working then they returned home. So, it was quite possible that the men who were required to solve the issue at hand were not present.

“What is the matter, Mrs. Dawson?” Ciara finally dared to intrude. The moment the two women heard her voice, they turned to her with Mrs. Dawson’s steel blue eyes shooting right through her.