The Butler & The Bluestocking: Marr Family Novella

By Rue Allyn

What could a bluestocking and a butler possibly have in common?

 

When she unlocks the door to their borrowed York townhouse, the last thing Bess expects to find is a stranger claiming to be a butler. She has every reason to disbelieve him, but her family is in desperate need, so she squelches common sense and offers him a job on the spot. Pray heaven, she won't regret her decision.

 

On arriving in York to visit his godmother, the honorable Malcolm K. Marr did not expect to find her house locked and empty. Nor did he expect to have to break in to the house to find shelter. Least of all did he expect to be awakened at mid-day after the break in to find a woman with the bearing of an Egyptian goddess demanding to know what he was doing in her house.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rue Allyn
• Release date: Jun 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9781734852394

Rue Allyn

Award winning romance author, Rue Allyn has a life long passion for happy ever after. She lives south of the border with her husband of more than forty years and their cat, Tonto. She has two sons and is a proud veteran of the US Navy. She writes heart melting romance in all sub-genres, but her favorite is historical romance, especially medieval. Subscribe to Rue’s News where you may learn more about Rue and receive a FREE download. https://www.rueallyn.com/subscriber-entered-from-online-profile/ FIND RUE ALLYN ON LINE Website~~https://RueAllyn.com Facebook~~https://www.facebook.com/RueAllynAuthor Amazon~~https://www.amazon.com/Rue-Allyn/e/B00AUBF3NI/ Goodreads~~https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5031290.Rue_Allyn Pinterest~~https://www.pinterest.com/RueAllyn/

Book preview

Chapter One

Starbrook Village, December 1817

I really need you with us in York. The lamplight flickering over the Dowager Countess of Seahaven’s face revealed a determined expression that matched her insistent tone.

Patience! More friend than step-daughter to her fourth and last stepmama, Bess knew she need not explain why she felt embarrassed—in truth, frightened to the point of immobility—at nearly all social events.

I fail to understand why you believe my attendance in York for the Season is so vital. Aside from my discomfort with even the simple country dances like those held at the Harrogate assembly rooms, such events are filled with nonsense and a waste of valuable time that I could spend on my research into the Rosetta Stone.

She leant toward her work, her delight and wonder spilling in a torrent of words, though she knew Patience had heard it all before. I promised Mr. Young of the London Royal Society I would transcribe Monsieur Champollion’s ideas about the purpose of the stone’s hieroglyphs and compare them with Mr. Young’s own theories. He hopes my work will verify his theories, or at least explain the differences between his and Champollion’s interpretations.

The work was intensive and required close examination. Not only did she have to compare each gentleman’s theories with the facsimile she had been given of the stone’s inscriptions. She also needed to make an independent and objective analysis of the Hieroglyphic, Coptic and Greek scripts.

I have completed my work on the Greek and am about to begin on the Coptic . . . Bess let her words trail off, when her step-mother, younger by seven years, lifted a hand to her forehead.

Patience dropped her hand. Dearest, you know I admire your devotion to your scholarly pursuits. However, you must also know that my personal understanding of them is small.

Bess placed her pen on the blotter and capped the inkwell. Then she wiped the worst of the most recent ink stains from her hands onto her apron and gave Patience her full attention.

About this idea of going to York, Patience. Bess gestured at the papers littering her small desk. I will be much too busy to be of good use with social events. The expense of taking me with you is hardly worth the bother.

Normally, I might agree with you, if I did not need your help with the girls still in the schoolroom.

They could stay here with me.

No. Patience shook her head. York provides a wealth of opportunity to further their education in history.

Bess tucked her lower lip between her teeth. She’d had a London Season, thirteen years ago when she was seventeen and under the reluctant sponsorship of a distant relation to her father. It had been a disaster.

While her sponsor had been well intentioned, she’d been more focused on the social success of her own daughter. The woman had shown little understanding and almost no patience with Bess’ strong love of history and equally strong social ineptitude. With her mother gone, her father, ever self-absorbed, had left Bess to her own devices. Those years between her mother’s death and the London debut had been spent devouring nearly every book in the Seahaven library.

She never learned a proper curtsey nor more than the most rudimentary courtesies. Her conversation was all about Greek philosophers and world history. Her hair had been a coppery red, that only years later deepened into the burnished auburn she knew was her only claim to beauty.

Dearest, are you listening to me? Patience placed a gentle hand on Bess’s arm.

I’m sorry, Patience. Please forgive my wool-gathering, I am listening. In fact, I am certain my sisters can help with the young ones."

Patience pursed her lips. I suppose that might work. Still, you must agree that giving the three middle girls a Season is a good idea.

Possibly. Bess plucked at a loose thread at the end of her sleeve. She had removed her cuffs to avoid staining the precious lace with ink. Her opinion of a Season, whether in London or York, could not be of any help to her stepmother or the rest of the family.

Patience straightened in her chair. Definitely, since Cousin Rose is giving us her house for the months she is gone on expedition to Egypt. Mrs. Crewe has agreed to come with us and help with the cooking as well as supervising all of us with the housework. Once her brother returns home from the Americas, he will come on as butler, but that could be as late as mid-April.

We’ve managed without more servants for years. I’m sure you will all still enjoy yourselves. Bess picked up the facsimile she’d been working from and frowned. I don’t recall seeing that sigma earlier. I’d best double-check.

Elizabeth, you cannot be listening to me. Patience placed a hand on Bess’s arm. Please stop fussing with that document and pay attention.

Bess sighed and put the facsimile aside. I am sorry Patience. I do not mean to neglect you, but you know how vital this project is to me. I may actually be able to share credit with Mr. Young when he presents his findings to the Royal Society, and the money it brings on completion will pay Mrs. Crewe’s salary for the next year.

For the income, we are all truly grateful, and I am certain you must be thrilled at the prospect of recognition. That has been your hope since before we met. But your sisters have important hopes and needs too, and your help in getting Josefina, Iris and Ivy fired off is essential.

Bess pressed her lips together. Why?

First, we cannot possibly rent this house to help defray expenses, if you are still living here.

I am certain our vicar and his wife will be happy to house me while you are gone. Especially if I offer to help with the housework.

Second, continued Patience. As I have already said, someone must see that the younger girls continue their education.

My dearest Patience, there are eight of us, qualified to see that the three youngest continue with their studies, and five to chaperone the twins and Josefina. Surely you and my sisters can juggle chaperone duties with teaching the young ones?

A worry line formed between Patience’s eyebrows. Are you certain you don’t want to come with us? We’d miss you greatly.

Bess smiled. As I will miss all of you. However, at least some of you will come back. When you do, I’ll be here waiting for you. Besides, if we rent the house, I’ll be on hand to assist the tenants with any problems.

Patience’s expression smoothed, and she widened her eyes. Then you’ll not mind missing the seminars sponsored by the York Antiquarian Society? I for one am looking forward to Dr. Marr’s lecture on medical knowledge in ancient Egypt during the reign of Ptolemy.

I doubt very much you even know who Ptolemy was?

Which one? Patience asked. There were five or six rulers of ancient Egypt by that name, if I remember correctly. I do occasionally recall some of what you tell me.

Bess covered her open mouth then smiled again. You sly puss. You’re teasing me.

All innocence, the Dowager Countess of Seahaven blinked. I’m afraid not. I saw the notice yesterday when I was in the village to speak with the local apothecary about giving Josefina a fair share of his profits from the sale of her unguents.

I am certain you were successful, for when you are determined, you always achieve your aims.

Thank you, Bess. I did succeed.

However, about the York Antiquarian Society, never say those meetings are being held in April. They are almost always held in November.

But, dearest Bess. I have it from our vicar himself that the York Antiquarian Society has changed the traditional dates to coincide with the York Season in hopes of attracting more attendees and more renowned speakers.

You know, I am certain, you’ve said the one thing that could persuade me to change my mind. Bess shed her apron.