BRIGHTON BEAUTY Read Online Free PDF

did not recall Alayna mentioning Aunt Eudora. Yet, Eudora must have been in London, else who had Alayna been staying with in Portman Square?
    "I asked about Eudora, gel!" Lady Rathbone fairly shouted, then waited as Chelsea carefully set aside her teacup. "Good God, gel, you just came from London, is Eudora well, or isn't she?"
    "Umm . . . she is well enough, I expect. Aunt Millicent, but . . . suddenly, I am feeling quite out of curl." It was not a lie. "I should like to retire to my chamber now, if you please."
    Behind her spectacles, Lady Rathbone's gray eyes narrowed. "Oh, go on with you then." She waved Chelsea away with her cane. "We've a month of Sundays to talk of the relatives, I expect. Never mind that I haven't had a visitor this age," she grumbled. "I should think the least you could do is catch me up on the family." She set aside her own teacup, then struggled to rise to her feet.
    Chelsea couldn't bear to watch the feeble old lady struggle so. Springing to her feet, she reached to help. "Allow me to assist you, Aunt Millicent," she said gently.
    Lady Rathbone's eyes cut round, but she said nothing further. After Chelsea had helped her into bed and tucked the cover pane about her, she excused herself and left the room.
    She found Dulcie awaiting her in the corridor. "Thought you might need help finding your way to your suite, miss," she said, her voice lowered in case Jared, or someone else, might be lurking about and overhear her.
    Chelsea exhaled a relieved sigh. "Thank you ever so, Dulcie. I admit I quite forgot to scatter breadcrumbs on my way here."
    * * * *
    A lone in her bedchamber that evening, Chelsea mentally reviewed the disastrous interview she'd endured with Lady Rathbone. Though she knew she had made a muddle of it, she couldn't help feeling sorry for the old lady. With only her books and a stone-faced butler for company, it was more than obvious that the old woman was lonely. But what could Chelsea do about it? Alayna would never lift a finger to help.
    Though she spent the next few days learning her way around the centuries-old castle, Chelsea continued to stew over Lady Rathbone's situation, making a point of visiting the formidable old woman at least once each day, generally at tea time. On the second day, she made good on her word to read to the woman and was pleased when they laughed together over an amusing article in an outdated copy of The London Times. As the days passed, Lady Rathbone ceased asking questions that Chelsea felt hard put to answer, and instead seemed merely glad for the company.
    Chelsea took her meals in her own quarters, a large suite of rooms located in an interesting round tower in the east wing. Clearly evident to her was the fact that the rooms had not been in service for a while . . . the heavy wine draperies were a haven for dust mites, as was the faded carpet that covered the smooth stone floor of her bedchamber.
    It took a bit of doing, but Chelsea finally pressed four of the housemaids into removing the draperies and rug and carting them outside for a much-needed cleaning. The bulk of Lady Rathbone's servants, Chelsea had discovered, were an uninspired lot, given to slothful habits and in the absence of their employer, blatantly shirking their duties.
    Even Dulcie . . . who after the second night, took to sleeping on a cot in the dressing room next to Chelsea's bedchamber, telling Chelsea that she wasn't accustomed to sharing a bed, even if the bedfellow was her own half-sister . . . commented on the lackadaisical attitude of the castle servants.
    "Ain't a one of them does a half-day’s work!" she exclaimed hotly. "Miss Marchmont would sack 'em in a minute, she would."
    Chelsea knew that was true. Alayna wouldn't stand for the laziness or half-completed tasks. Thinking further on it, Chelsea reckoned there were at least twenty-five or thirty people who lived in relative ease inside the castle, and counting the outside stable-hands and the groundskeepers that