The Bride's Necklace Read Free Page B

and he didn’t think she would, either. “Perhaps you would be interested in the job.”
    He didn’t miss the staggering relief that washed over her face. It gave him an odd sort of pang.
    “Yes, my lord, I would most assuredly be interested. I’ve done similar work before. I believe I could handle the job very well.”
    She was attractive, he saw as he hadn’t before. Not the raving beauty her sister was, but her features were refined, her dark eyebrows winged over a pair of lively green eyes, her nose straight and her chin firm. A stubborn little chin, he thought with a hint of amusement.
    “What about my sister? I’m afraid I can’t accept the position unless there is a place here for Claire as well.”
    He heard the tension that crept into her voice. She needed this job—very badly. But she wouldn’t stay without her sister. Apparently, she hadn’t realized yet that Claire was the reason that she had been employed.
    “As housekeeper, you will be able to hire as you wish. Another chambermaid would probably be useful. I’ll summon Mrs. Mills. She can show you around and discuss the duties you will need to perform. As this is a bachelor household, I imagine it would be better if I introduced you as Mrs. Temple.”
    Her lips slightly pursed as she recognized the necessity of the lie, which obviously didn’t sit well with her.
    “Yes, I suppose it would. As that will pose a problem for Claire, you may refer to my sister as Miss Marion. That is her middle name.”
    He motioned toward Timmons, who left to collect Mrs. Mills. The broad-hipped housekeeper arrived a few minutes later, a speculative look on her face.
    “Mrs. Mills, this is Mrs. Temple,” Cord said. “Beginning on Monday, she will be taking your place.”
    The housekeeper’s speckled gray eyebrows drew together. “But I assumed Mrs. Rathbone—”
    “As I said, Mrs. Temple will be your replacement. And this is her sister, Miss Marion. She’s being employed as a housemaid.”
    Mrs. Mills didn’t look all that happy, but she nodded her acceptance, then motioned for the women to follow her and started climbing the stairs.
    “We’ll get your sister settled in first,” the housekeeper said. “Then I’ll show you to your room. It’s downstairs next to the kitchen.”
    “Come, Claire.” The dark-haired sister’s command drew the blonde’s attention from the flower-filled urn. “Mrs. Mills is going to show us our rooms.” Though the words were directed at Claire, her eyes were fixed on Cord and he thought that they held a trace of warning.
    The notion somehow amused him. A servant with that kind of pluck. For the first time in weeks, Cord found himself thinking of something other than the business of being an earl and his worry about Ethan.
    He cast a last glance at Claire, who climbed the stairs with her elegant head bent forward as she studied the patterns in the carpet. Cord watched the way a silver-blond strand of hair teased her cheek and felt a familiar male stirring. Thinking of the intriguing possibilities the future suddenly held for him, he smiled.
    Then he thought of the stacks of paperwork waiting on his desk and the smile slid away. With a sigh, Cord headed for his study.

Two
    I t was early the following morning that Mrs. Mills began her instruction and Tory learned the scope of her duties. Fortunately, she had managed a fairly large household at Harwood Hall, though the penny-pinching baron kept the staff to a minimum, resulting in long, exhausting days for all of them.
    Though Claire had never worked at Harwood, she accepted her duties without the least complaint, collecting peas and beans from the kitchen garden, haring off to the marketplace for a pot of butter Cook needed for the evening meal, enjoying the camaraderie of working with the other servants.
    Since their mother, Charlotte Temple Whiting, Lady Harwood, had died three years ago, they’d had very little social life. Tory had been away at Mrs. Thornhill’s