Free Anne Barbour by Lord Glenravens Return Page A

correction.
    “Child, what’s got into you today?” Miss Melksham peered severely at her over the tops of her spectacles. “First you nearly threw out three dozen of our finest candles, and now you have got the linen inventory all higgeldy-piggeldy.”
    Claudia raised a hand to her head, which was beginning to ache again. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I just can’t seem to concentrate.”
    “It’s Thomas and Rose, isn’t it?”
    “Oh, no—that is, yes,” Claudia replied, prevaricating. “I do want everything to be just so for them.”
    “Why, for heaven’s sake? You’re expecting your sister and her husband, not the Prince Regent.”
    Claudia essayed a small, not entirely successful smile. “Yes, but I don’t think the Regent is quite as demanding as Thomas.”
    Miss Melksham sniffed. “I certainly hope you aren’t going to accede to his constant need for attention. Rose is bad enough with her megrims and her collywobbles.” She cast a penetrating glance at her niece. “At least,” she continued meaningfully, “while they are here you won’t be outside mucking out the stables.”
    Claudia flushed, but felt herself to be on firmer ground here. “I don’t do that anymore. January has taken over that task.”
    “Our butler?” queried the older woman in bewilderment.
    “Yes, well—” Claudia went on in rather a rush. “He was originally hired as a stable hand—did I not tell you?” Without giving her aunt a chance to answer, she continued hastily. “It was only when he assured me that he was eminently qualified—which, I’m sure he is, don’t you—at any rate, since his duties are so light here in the house, he will be spending his mornings in the stable with Jonah and Lucas.”
    Thrusting the remainder of the pillow slips on a shelf, she rose and made as though to leave the room. Her aunt, however, stayed her with a minatory glance and a hand on her arm.
    “What do you mean, my dear, about his duties being so light? We’ve been without a butler for too long, and there are many things he should be attending to. Since we have so few other men about the place, he must take over chores that we have let slide for too long. The chandelier lusters are in desperate need of cleaning, and—what is his name again—January—must see to lowering them for the maids. Since we have no housekeeper, I always depended on Morgan to help oversee the maids in their duties—have you looked at the upstairs parlors lately? An absolute disgrace! Dust you can write your name in, and—and the silver is in a deplorable condition. Morgan took it upon himself to polish it, you know. Oh, there are a hundred things that need doing.”
    “There, there, Aunt,” replied Claudia soothingly. “When Thomas and Rose come—and that is in just a few days, now— January will spend all his time in the house.”
    Miss Melksham threw up her hands. “Most unsatisfactory, but if it keeps you out of the stables, I suppose we can manage. Gracious, the sight of you in those dreadful clothes, with a pitchfork in your hand is enough to send me into a purple megrim.”
    Laughing, Claudia escorted her aunt from the room. Once in the corridor, the two ladies parted. Miss Melksham to see to activities in the kitchen, and Claudia, beeswax and polishing rag in hand, toward the great hall.
    En route, she passed the library, and on impulse, stepped inside. During her tour yesterday with January, she had noticed how the dust was beginning to accumulate in this room. Appreciatively, she breathed in the scent of vellum and leather and old wood. Odd, she felt more in tune with the spirit of the old house in this room. It had cost her a great deal to sell off so many of the books, but there were still many left. Enough, certainly, to provide her with pleasurable reading during the brief periods when she had time for such an activity. She walked no more than a few steps into the room, when she halted. There, on one of the tables, were