Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(55)

“We’re having a problem of discipline,” Mrs. Gray-son said grimly. “Nell would rather gossip and chatter all day than do her work.”

Despite the fact that she had her own problems to worry about, Mira looked at the slumped shoulders of the maid and nearly smiled with sympathy. Apparently Rosalie felt the same twinge of pity, for her voice was gentle as she addressed the girl. “I had hoped that the last time we discussed your gossiping would have done more good, Nell. I would like to speak with you as soon as I see to the comfort of my guest.”

“Yes, mum,” the girl replied, shooting a baleful glance at the triumphant housekeeper.

Mira was to learn later that although Mrs. Grayson was a militant and effective housekeeper, Rosalie played a significant role in the running of Berkeley Hall. She attended to countless problems and decisions, used all the wiles of a seasoned diplomat to keep the servants in harmony with each other, and never lost her temper… she was active in charity projects, maintained close friendships with neighbors and relatives, spent a considerable amount of time each day with her child, and above all, she saw to the needs of her husband. And though her days were sometimes long and trying, her voice was never loud or sharp, her manner was always gentle and kind. How did she manage to make it all seem so effortless?

Most of the servants and tenants who lived on the Berkeley estate usually attempted to approach Rosalie first with their problems, since it was well known that not only would she be sympathetic and understanding but also she had the power to influence her husband as no one else was able to do. The guests and relatives who spent time with the Berkeleys also besieged her for time and attention, basking in her company and endeavoring to monopolize her for as long as possible. All of this was done behind Rand Berkeley’s back, as discreetly as possible, for it was common knowledge that he was a fiercely protective and jealous husband, and the demands made upon his wife by others never failed to irritate him. He made it very clear that he was Rosalie’s first responsibility, and heseldom tolerated anyone daring to interfere with their time together.

A footman and two other maids hovered around Rosalie now, all attempting to speak at once. “Mireille, I know you are exhausted,” Rosalie said, apparently unruffled by the small crowd in front of them. “I apologize for the disturbance”—she sent a meaningful look to the group, whose clamoring subsided somewhat—”but there are a few matters I must take care of. Would you care for a hot cup of tea while I attend to them?”

Rosalie directed one of the plump, pretty maids to bring a tea tray to them, and led Mira to a small room while pointing out the winged sphinxes and griffins which grinned and scowled down at them from the ceiling moldings.

“This is all very lovely,” Mira said, following Rosalie into a beautiful room filled with delicate stucco-work and rose-colored marble. Soft brocaded chairs were set before a pilastered fireplace, while gold-framed engravings adorned the walls. Rosalie beamed at the compliment.

“Thank you. Shortly after we were married the house was designed by an acquaintance of ours, the Duke of Stafford.”

“Alec F-Falkner?” Mira managed to stammer, suddenly feeling trapped by the house that had seemed so charming just a minute ago.

“You’ve heard of him?” Rosalie inquired, walking to the window and straightening the drapery sash.

“Yes…” Mira said faintly. “Do you often… that is, is he a close acquaintance of yours?”

“Not really,” Rosalie replied, her blue eyes becoming thoughtful, her forehead furrowing slightly as she pondered the question. “I suppose we should be closer… after all, not only did he design this house, but we are on good terms with the Falkner family in general. On the few occasions that I’ve met Lord Falkner, I’vefound him to be pleasant and polite, and Rand likes him well enough, but… he is a rather unsettling man. I don’t quite know how to explain it, since he is always very courteous, but still…” She frowned quickly and then dropped the subject, throwing Mira a pleased smile. “Oh well, it’s not likely that you’ll meet him here.”

Mira nodded uncertainly. “My lady—”

“I would prefer it if you called me by my first name.”

“Rosalie, then. I would like to thank you for the invitation to stay here with you. I am grateful for it, and I would like to accept your hospitality for a short while. But I am afraid that I will not be able to stay for long.”

“Mireille, don’t even think of leaving yet,” Rosalie began in a small rush, then smiled and continued more calmly. “You will discover in a few weeks that as winter approaches, half of the extended Berkeley family moves in with us. As you see, it is a very big house, and the heating is excellent—so a large number of friends and relatives come to visit during the months of harshest weather. They provide interesting company, if not always the most restful, and I can promise you a most entertaining stay with us. You will not inconvenience anyone a bit, since one guest more or less will make little difference… and I want you to stay here. You once extended your hand to me when I was ill and needed friendship—don’t deprive me of the opportunity to repay your kindness.”

“I don’t consider,” Mira said slowly, her dark brown eyes downcast, “—that you owe me anything. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget what happened in France. I… I betrayed you—”