Page 6 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

Cook took the pot from Olivia’s grasp, turned her by the shoulders toward the door, and gave her solid shove. “Ye’ve done enough cleaning for now. Go change so that yer presentable fer when Mrs. Glenbrook calls fer ye.”

Olivia glanced back over her shoulder. Cook’s head was shaking from side-to-side. Ugh. Why couldn’t she stop disappointing those who she wished to please the most? Olivia quickly turned back around and left the kitchens to hurry up to her room.

“Olivia.” The ever-patient Mrs. Glenbrook took Olivia’s hands in hers. “Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m afraid Lady Charlotte will not approve of me,” she confessed. In the hour since she’d left the kitchen, Ian's words had festered into worries that had her hands shaking like leaves at the end of a branch.

Mrs. Glenbrook squeezed her hands before releasing them. “Are you doubting me?” The housekeeper’s brow arched, as if she was daring Olivia to answer.

Blast the woman. It wasn’t like Olivia to back down from a challenge, and the housekeeper was using the fact against her.

“Of course not.” Her voice, thankfully, held a tinge of confidence that had been missing moments ago.

“Then I suggest we make our way to the drawing room.” Mrs. Glenbrook led the way and, as they crossed the threshold without looking back, she added, “Lady Charlotte isn’t one to keep time. However, she also doesn’t care to be kept waiting.”

“If you took bigger steps, we’d be there already.” Olivia pinched her lips together and waited to be reprimanded.

“And here I thought you needed extra time to calm your nerves.” Mrs. Glenbrook’s shoulders and tone remained even. There was no evidence that the woman was succumbing to laughter, yet Olivia would have wagered an entire month's salary that the woman was chuckling under her breath, which made the tension in her own body dissipate and her brows unknit. Yes, Lord Camden’s staff were indeed rare and unique. Fellow misfits, it was a wonder how Ian had quickly adapted. Bah. Ian was a rule-follower by nature and would probably not have an issue integrating into any household, unlike her.

The susurrus of silk, a soft whisper, had Olivia lifting her chin, in time to witness Lady Charlotte embracing the housekeeper like a child who hadn’t seen their mama in quite some time. “Oh, Glenbrook, you are a sight for sore eyes.” The countess leaned back and took in the woman from head-to-toe. “You appear rather well-rested.”

“I presume that shan’t be the case shortly, now that you have returned.”

Ignoring Mrs. Glenbrook’s reply, Lady Charlotte peered around her and caught sight of Olivia. “And who is this?”

Mrs. Glenbrook motioned for Olivia to move forward, and she obediently presented herself to the lady of the house. “I’m Olivia, my lady.” She caught Mrs. Glenbrook’s eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and the slight shake of her head out of the corner of her eye. Olivia sank into a deep curtsy and mumbled, “I beg your pardon, Lady Charlotte. I’m the new kitchen maid, Miss Olivia Walton.”

Lady Charlotte’s bright pink slippers appeared before her. “Hmm, do you prefer to be called Olivia or Walton?”

The odd question had Olivia straightening and blinking at her new employer. Was the countess trying to trick her? Voices of her previous employers uttering a slew of rather unkind names barraged her thoughts momentarily. For once, she didn’t respond with the first words that were on the tip of her tongue. Rather than risking her position once again, she hedged her reply. “You may address me as you wish, my lady. Although I do appreciate being summoned by my given name over any other.”

Lady Charlotte’s beautiful smile slowly disappeared with each word Olivia uttered.

“Well, then I shall call you Miss O, until we become better acquainted.”

Lady Charlotte circled Olivia. Being of a similar height, Olivia once again found herself meeting the countess’s direct gaze. She quickly lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Do you like being in the kitchens, Miss O?”

Olivia popped her head up to answer. “Oh, yes, my lady. Cook is ever so kind and patient.”

“Ha! Cook. Kind… and p-patient?” Bent at the waist, Lady Charlotte slapped her leg and laughed. “Glenbrook, don’t tell me Miss O here has managed to transform grumpy old Cook into… into a saint?"

The housekeeper’s impartial features softened. “Cook’s temperament has no effect upon her skills or the quality of the meals served.” Mrs. Glenbrook shifted to stand next to Olivia and, with a glare that had Lady Charlotte sobering, she added, “It has come to my attention that you are once again in need of a maid. I suggest you consider Miss Olivia. She would be perfect for the position while you are in London.”

Lady Charlotte leaned forward and whispered into Olivia’s ear, “She mustn’t like you as much as you thought.”

Olivia blinked twice, briefly taken aback by Lady Charlotte’s comment.

Gazing at each other, the two ladies next to her engaged in some inaudible conversation. After what seemed an eternity to Olivia, Mrs. Glenbrook’s gaze flickered between Lady Charlotte and Olivia, and the housekeeper asked, “Well, my lady?”

“I was planning to remain in London for an extended spell. Do you believe Miss O can manage?” Lady Charlotte placed both hands behind her back and, with slightly narrowed eyes, gave her the once-over once more.

“It was Ian who vouched for Miss Olivia.”

“Oh, really?” Lady Charlotte’s eyes widened at the mention of her childhood friend, and with a smile that was entirely not feigned, she added, “All right then. Miss O, you are relieved of your duties in the kitchen, and effective immediately, assigned to the role of my maid.”

Olivia looked to Mrs. Glenbrook for reassurance but was met with a disturbingly apologetic gaze from the woman. Maid to the lady of the house was a promotion from the kitchens. She should be happy. She’d dared to hope to elevate her position within the staff earlier in the day, to be more like Ian. The hard truth of her mama’s warnings to be careful of what you wish for hit her.