Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,53

he had dark hair that he wore combed back from his forehead and tied into a queue at the nape of his neck. It was so neat it could have been a wig. Indeed, he need only powder it, and it might pass for a wig. He was impeccably dressed in a dark coat and breeches, his hose perfectly white and his pumps shiny black. His cravat was simple but definitely starched. His light-colored eyes met hers and he furrowed his brow delicately as he took her in. His thin lips pursed, and the nostrils of his aquiline nose flared as though he were a large predator who had just scented prey.

“Precisely how many meals have you prepared, Mr. Clopdon?” Mrs. Blimkin demanded.

The man seemed to reluctantly look away from Pru. “It is simply Clopdon, Mrs. Blimkin. And I have prepared my fair share.”

“Well, then. I have prepared more than my fair share and then some, and what that man needs is food to tempt his palate. His body doesn’t know how hungry it is, and we need to wake it up.”

Mrs. Brown looked from one to the other then cast a pleading look at Pru. She cleared her throat. Pru nodded. “I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“Rich foods will make him ill,” Clopdon said, ignoring Pru’s interjection. “I have been put in charge of his care, and I will not have it.”

“Well!” Mrs. Blimkin was holding a large spoon, and Pru was half-afraid she would throw it. “You have been put in charge of his clothing, Mr. Clopdon. I have taken charge of his diet, and I will not be told how to cook after forty years of experience. Stick to waistcoats and get out of my kitchen.”

“How can I stick to waistcoats if you make the man ill? You need—”

“Clopdon, is it?” Pru said loudly enough to ensure all eyes turned to her. She crossed the servants’ dining room to stand before him, which had the added effect of putting her between Mrs. Blimkin and the man. “I assume you are the man responsible for how well Mr. Pope is dressed this evening. I am Miss Prudence Howard.”

Clopdon raised his head. “I am the man charged with the care of Mr. Pope. Mr. Payne found himself detained and has hired me as the valet. I am also empowered to hire other staff.” He pointed at Mrs. Blimkin. “I did not hire her.”

“You couldn’t afford me!” Mrs. Blimkin said.

“Of course, Mrs. Blimkin is not for hire,” Pru said loudly. “She is housekeeper for Mr. Higginbotham, who is the vicar of Milcroft. She only came today as a favor to me. I have been engaged as a reading and writing tutor for Mr. Pope, and Mrs. Blimkin agreed to chaperone me. Out of the kindness of her heart and as a favor to Mrs. Brown, who has taken on far too much, she prepared some delicious meals. In fact”—Pru looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Blimkin—“Mr. Pope sent his compliments on the shepherd’s pie. He ate almost all of it.” She hastily turned back to Clopdon. “But not so much as to make him ill, sir. I do think if you taste Mrs. Blimkin’s cooking you will see she seasons it well but not heavily.”

“Miss Howard, your loyalty toward this woman does you credit, but—"

“Oh, dear, Mrs. Blimkin,” Pru said, sensing that things were about to take another contentious return. “It does grow late, and we should start back if we’re to return Mr. Langford’s dog cart and get ourselves to bed at a decent hour.”

Mrs. Blimkin eyed Clopdon one last time then nodded stiffly. “I know when I am not wanted.” With a swish of her skirts she crossed the dining room and went out the door to the yard where they had left the dog cart and horse.

“I do hope she will come back,” Mrs. Brown said quietly.

“You do not need her, Mrs. Brown,” Clopdon said. “We will get on well enough without a person like that.” And then he too stormed out, marching up the stairs with a huff. Clearly, Pru thought, Clopdon has not tasted Mrs. Brown’s cooking yet.

“We will return tomorrow,” Pru said quietly to Mrs. Brown. “We’ll come earlier, and I will take Mr. Pope outside and away from the hammering, which I know grates on his nerves. Mrs. Blimkin will prepare dinner. Did she leave something for breakfast?”

“She did, Miss Howard.”

“Good. That means you should be able to rest. You have been working yourself to