Glitter - Abbi Glines Page 0,56

dimples flashed in her cheeks, making her appear much younger than I had first assumed. “Yes, Miss. Come I’ll show you the way,” she said and for that I was grateful. This place was so easy to get lost in.

“When you first began working here, did you get lost often?” I asked Gertrude.

She chuckled. “Yes, Miss. Once I was found in the east wing crying because I couldn’t find my way to the kitchen,” she recalled.

I smiled at her story and she closed the door behind me then waved a hand for me to follow her as she started down the long hallway. I glanced up at paintings along the way and wished I had more time to study them and decide who they were. One was of two young boys and I knew it must be Ashington and Nicholas. I wanted to come back and spend more time looking at that one soon.

Gertrude moved quickly and I had to keep up. I knew we were drawing closer after we descended the stairs and headed left. Two large doors stood open and inside was the long dining table we had enjoyed a delicious dinner at last night. Gertrude turned to me then curtsied and scurried away behind a door.

I noticed Uncle Alfred was already at the table with a paper in hand and a cup of tea. Aunt Harriet was beside him, buttering a biscuit. I entered the room and glanced down at the end of the long table to see Ashington also with a paper and a cup of tea in front of him. Aunt Harriet was the first to notice me. Her gaze met mine and she smiled brightly.

“Good morning, Miriam. You will be pleased to know Lord Ashington has plenty biscuits, jam and hot chocolate,” she announced.

“Yes, I am sure the girl has come down here concerned over the state of Lord Ashington’s breakfast offerings,” Uncle Alfred drawled and rolled his eyes.

I glanced over at Ashington, and he was grinning behind his cup of tea or what I assumed was tea. Perhaps he was a coffee drinker. Some gentlemen preferred coffee in the morning, although it was an oddity I did not understand.

“I am sure anything he has will be splendid,” I replied and took my seat to the right of Ashington and across from my aunt.

“Of course,” Aunt Harriet agreed then winked at me, holding up a buttered biscuit before taking a bite. I struggled not to laugh at her antics. I wasn’t sure how Lord Ashington would handle such behavior at his breakfast table.

“You forgot the jam,” Uncle Alfred told her and I did laugh then. Covering my mouth, I hoped it wasn’t too loud. Uncle Alfred looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “She was rather enthused about the jam, was she not?” he asked.

I nodded and dropped my hand back to my lap. “Yes, I do believe she was,” I agreed.

Aunt Harriet finished the bite in her mouth. “I am going to try the jam. I just needed to taste the biscuit without it first.”

“Are we a connoisseur of biscuits?” Uncle Alfred asked.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing again.

“Is it always this lively in the mornings at your breakfast table?” Ashington asked then.

I felt my face heat up as I took a quick peek in his direction.

“More so, I am afraid,” Uncle Alfred replied dryly.

Aunt Harriet giggled then and I couldn’t help but smile. Turning my attention to Ashington, I lifted the corner of my mouth in a smirk. “Oft times Uncle Alfred will wake up early enough to take his breakfast without us. Rude as it may be,” I told him.

Ashington grinned. “Is that so,” he drawled.

“I am sure Lord Ashington will understand that choice after our morning meal,” Uncle Alfred replied.

“I find a quiet meal boring,” Aunt Harriet informed Lord Ashington. “I grew up with seven siblings and there was never a moment of peace in our house. I don’t think I could eat if it was silent.”

“Or if you hadn’t any jam,” Uncle Alfred added.

I covered my mouth to giggle into my napkin.

“Conversation and jam do make for a more appealing meal time,” Lord Ashington agreed.

“They do!” Aunt Harriet agreed readily.

“There is much to be said for a moment of peace with one’s coffee,” Uncle Alfred said, cutting his eyes at his wife.

Aunt Harriet lifted her right shoulder with a shrug. “Difference of opinion,” she replied.

The subject needed to be changed and I was thinking of something