Free The Valet and the Stable Groom: M/M Regency Romance by Katherine Marlowe

were chopped, and Mrs. Ledford had begun boning the fish.
    “Mr. Adair,” she said, in greeting.
    “Mrs. Ledford.”
    She returned her attention to the fish. “I did not expect that you would return.”
    Clement had no explanation to offer. There were other tasks he might do, particularly now that Hildebert was out of his room. There were suits to be brushed and buttons to be reinforced.
    “What is it that you’re making?” Clement asked, though he already knew.
    “A stew,” she said.
    “Fish stew.”
    She hesitated. A strand of gray hair had come loose from her bun. The cross she wore around her neck was plain iron. “Yes.”
    Every Friday. “You’re Catholic.”
    This time the hesitation was almost imperceptible. She did not look up. “Yes.”
    “I have heard,” Clement said, wishing to dismiss any offence he might have implied, “that your fish stew is excellent.”
    She paused with her knife above the head of the fish currently lying in the centre of her workspace, and met his eyes. “Have you?”
    “Will you teach me to bone a fish, as you’re doing?”
    Mrs. Ledford cut the head and the tail from the fish, and began to explain each step of the process. She explained once and demonstrated twice, and then handed the knife over to Clement.
    The fish was slimy to the touch. The workspace beneath it was slick with traces of fish blood.
    Clement gritted his teeth and cut off the fish’s head.
    When the fish were prepared, they were put into the waiting pot. Mrs. Ledford went out to fetch more water from the well while Clement returned to the primary kitchen and took up a fresh pot of tea to Hildebert.
    The original pot of tea was cold and untouched. Hildebert had the book open and was fast asleep in his chair.
    Clement swapped out the pots of tea and returned to the servant’s kitchen.
    He shared the cold tea with Mrs. Ledford while they chopped watercress for the stew. The potatoes and fish bubbled in the pot over the fire.
    On the third pot of tea, Hildebert was no longer in the sunroom. After some searching, Clement found him playing chess in the upstairs parlour with Jane. Letty was nearby, making slow progress with an embroidery project.
    “Oh, Clement!” Letty said, gratefully discarding her project onto the embroidery basket. “Will you play at cards with us? Then we shall have four.”
    “Perhaps once the chess is finished,” Clement said, setting down the pot of tea. The game of chess was still in its early stages, so he left them to it.
    He sent a housemaid to take up additional cups for tea, and ordered some refreshments to be taken up to them in half an hour.
    Then he went back to the kitchen. If Hildebert or Jane remembered and insisted, they could send for him.
    While the stew simmered, Mrs. Ledford reviewed a ledger of expenses. She got up every so often to stir the pot or to add fuel to the fire.
    Clement fetched himself a book and sat at a clean spot on the table. Every two pages, he got up and stirred the stew.
    Mrs. Ledford’s eyes followed him the first two times he did this. After that, she simply left him to it.
    Mr. Busick was the first to come in for stew. He took up the large wooden spoon, stirred the food once, tasted it, and then served some of it into a bowl. In silence, he sat at the table and ate.
    None of them made conversation.
    Mr. Busick ate with slow, musing bites, supping mostly upon broth. Clement watched him at first, and then returned his attention to reading.
    This was the most time Clement had spent in the servants’ kitchen since he’d arrived. While he read, Miss Grant came in, served herself, and sat beside Mrs. Ledford to eat.
    “How are the cucumbers coming along?” Mrs. Ledford asked.
    “Slowly,” Miss Grant responded. “They’ll be late this year.”
    “Mr. Devereux had some interest in the fruit trees,” Clement offered. “He wished to know whether or not they were plagued with ants.”
    “As much as any orchard is plagued with ants, I