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They sank back into an awkward silence, broken when the butler re-entered with a pile of clothing. Iris smiled at him, so grateful for the interruption.
He looked down at the clothing, blushing slightly, an unusual sight as servants were usually well-trained to keep their faces impassive under all conditions. ‘I’m afraid the maids are all somewhat shorter than you, my lady, so their dresses would be rather immodest if you wore them. I hope these will suffice, my lady.’ He blushed a slightly darker shade of red.
Iris took the clothes from his outstretched hands. ‘I’m sure they’ll be perfect,’ she said, trying to reassure the uncomfortable servant. Then looked down at the clothing and frowned. He had handed her a pile of men’s garments.
‘I’m sorry, my lady,’ he rushed on. ‘We tend to retire early in this house, and the other servants are already in bed, but I shall call for a maid to help you change.’
‘Oh, no,’ Iris said. ‘I’ve caused enough inconvenience already. I wouldn’t want to disturb the household any further.’
She looked over at the Earl, expecting him to contradict her, to say it was no inconvenience whatsoever, that her presence was not a disturbance.
No contradiction came, so she continued. ‘Thank you for the clothing and I’m sure I’ll be able to manage on my own.’ Iris knew that the maids would have been working since the early hours of the morning and would have to be up again early tomorrow, so she was not merely being polite when she said not to disturb them. And how hard could it be to dress yourself in men’s clothing? Iris didn’t know but was about to find out.
‘Very good, my lady,’ the butler said with a bow. ‘When you have changed, I’ll take your damp clothing to be cleaned and dried.’
‘You’re very kind.’ She smiled at the butler and was pleased that he smiled back. At least someone in this house was friendly.
The butler departed and the Earl rose from his chair. ‘I’ll give you some privacy and leave you to get changed beside the fire where it’s warm,’ he said, which was possibly the longest sentence he had said since she had arrived.
‘Thank you. And I hope you’ll be joining me for tea. I wouldn’t want to drive you away from your room.’ And what presumably was the only lit fire in this dark, gloomy house, she added to herself.
Instead of a response, he merely bowed and left the room, his dog trotting at his heels.
As she pulled off her damp dress and underclothes Iris tried to count her blessings. She was out of the storm. She had a fire to warm herself beside. Now she had clean, dry clothes to wear, and she wasn’t in the company of a hobgoblin or a diabolic creature from the underworld. She smiled as she undid her corset. Although perhaps falling into the hands of a hobgoblin might have been a better outcome. Such a creature would probably be a better conversationalist than the morose Earl of Greystone.
