you doing here? Not hoping for work again, I hope. You won’t do. Too many airs.”
“I’m not looking for work. I was nearby and thought I would call on you.”
“Call on me, is it? I’ve food to prepare. I have no time for callers.” She returned to her onions. “Call on me, indeed.”
Minerva went over and stood beside her just as the woman wiped her eyes with her apron. “I will cut those if you give me a knife and a board. Then both of us will cry but be done quickly.”
Mrs. Fowler shrugged. She set a board and knife in front of Minerva. “Strange one you are.”
“I know.” Minerva began slicing the onions. Mrs. Fowler inspected them, nodded, and went back to her peeling.
“You’ve no one here to help you.” The kitchen quaked with silence.
“Up above they are today, tending to the chambers. Tomorrow more start, so I’ll have them back, plus another. Mrs. Wiggins has been taking on new servants fast.”
“Has she found her own replacement?”
“I fear so. I don’t like the woman. Came down here poking around, asking too many questions, telling me my business. Next week she starts.”
“It has been difficult, I suppose, having so many of the staff leave. Of course, with those pensions, one would expect it.”
“Didn’t see me leave, did you? I have one too. A nice trust with a good income. What would I do with myself? No point in cooking a big stew for one person.”
“Do you still get to see some of them at times?”
Two more onions awaited slicing now. Minerva blinked against the film of tears and kept her knife moving so Mrs. Fowler would keep talking.
“Most are gone from town. I’ve a few letters, but that will stop soon as they are settled. It’s like family here, but it isn’t really family, now is it?” She paused and thought. “Only one surprises me. Never wrote, and we’d served here together a long time. Of course he was all but a gentleman himself, what with being valet to the last duke. I suppose he’s living on that spot on the water that he found and is happy to be done with all of this.”
“I love the sea. I have always wanted to live in a coastal town. One with beaches, not cliffs like Dover.”
“He didn’t go to Dover, or the sea. He spoke of Sussex a lot, where the duke has his big manor. Mr. Edkins likes to fish and said there were some good places to do that near there. Mrs. Wiggins said he bought himself a cottage on a little lake near Stevening down there. Can’t say I can see him fishing, what with his coats and cravat and such.”
“Perhaps now he won’t dress so formally.”
“Can’t picture it since he always did. Nice for him to not have to stay in service though. He was young still. Too young for a pension. Kind of His Grace to leave him enough, though I expect that family thought it too much.” She sent Minerva a sideways, critical glance that indicated her feelings about the family.
“Will you stay on even with this new housekeeper you don’t like? Does the new duke suit you?”
“Suit me? What a question.” She set the last onion in front of Minerva, and dipped the corner of her apron into a water bucket. “He’s no trouble. He’ll marry now, though. That wife will be worse than the new housekeeper, what with having opinions about food and such.” She wiped her eyes. “Well, we will see. Can leave whenever I want, can’t I? I like that.”
Minerva finished her slicing. Mrs. Fowler dipped the other corner of her hem in the water and offered it. Minerva availed herself of the damp cloth, but knew leaving the kitchen would help more.
“It was nice visiting with you, Mrs. Fowler. I hope the new housekeeper appreciates the fine cook she has in you, and does not interfere too much.”
“You stop by anytime you want to work for free. Saved me crying another ten minutes, didn’t you?” She swept all the onions into that apron of hers, walked to the big hearth, and dumped them into a big cauldron.
Minerva let herself out and climbed the five stairs to the garden. That had gone better than she had hoped. She now knew the valet’s name, and the vicinity where he now lived.
Her smug satisfaction disappeared as soon as she began walking toward the garden gate. In her path, lounging with his back against