Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story by K.L. O'Keefe Page B

and do it now . No dawdling!”
    Without another word, Jemima stormed out of the room; her heavy footsteps could be heard until she was halfway down the hallway. Cynthia swore her stepmother's presence had left a chill in the room.
    Which must have been the case, because Robert shuddered. “Whoo. She's a real joy squelcher, that one. Your stepmother must have spoiled a few Christmases in her day. Never a cheerful moment when she's around, huh?”
    “ She is... hateful,” Cynthia agreed. “Tess, will you help me clean the guest room? If she wants it ready within the hour, I'd rather not attempt it on my own.”
    Tess, who had been silent for some time, gripped her stomach and groaned. “I'm feeling under the weather, dear. You and Robert should go...”
    “ But--” Cynthia's protest was cut short by the sight of Robert's cheeky grin. She did not want to say anything rude when he was standing right next to her. “Very well. Robert, let's go.”
    “ Sounds wonderful. I always enjoy scattering dust and trampling cobwebs.” Robert held open the door for her.
    “ Cobwebs?!” Cynthia gasped.
    “ Aye. Cobwebs. Mice. Vengeful spirits.” Robert grinned. “You never know what you might unearth at Montforth Hall.”

    * * *

    When Jemima entered the drawing room, Georgiana's hands were sweeping across the pianoforte. Lord Charmington was standing over her shoulder, turning the pages as she played. When he turned the final page, Georgiana finished the piece and took a bow.
    Jemima leaned against the doorway and applauded her daughter. “See, my lord? Isn't she a skilled musician?”
    “ Very skilled indeed. And I am sure the talent runs in the family.”
    “ Not really, my lord,” Jemima disagreed. “I have no musical talent whatsoever, and Edith is the definition of average.”
    “ Thank you, Mother...” Edith murmured.
    “ Well, we all have a talent in something,” Lord Charmington insisted. He sat beside Edith on the settee and tried to reassure her with a smile. “What is your talent, Lady Edith?”
    “ I am afraid my mother is correct. I am a plain and talentless soul.”
    “ I am sure that isn't true. There must be something you're skilled at?”
    “ Well...” Edith chewed on her lip. “When I was younger, I fancied myself a playwright, and I have several plays stashed under my bed. However, I cannot vouch for their quality. It is something I enjoyed, but I would not say I am a particularly skilled writer.”
    “ I would love to read something you wrote,” Lord Charmington said.
    “ No, you wouldn't,” Edith laughed. “I wrote them when I was much younger. You would not want to subject yourself to the mindless ramblings of a child.”
    “ I am sure they are not as bad as you think. We are our own worst critics, are we not?”
    “ I have not read them in quite some time, but they are full of unintentional humor,” Edith said. “Trust me, my plays are truly terrible. What is your talent, my lo--?”
    “ Ahem !” Jemima interrupted none-too-subtly. “Georgiana, would you play something else for us? Your music is such a joy!”
    “ I will only play if Lord Charmington returns to my side!” Georgiana vowed. “Please, my lord? Will you turn the pages for me?” Her lower lip protruded in the most obnoxious of pouts.
    James exchanged uneasy glances with Edith before rising from his seat. He went to Georgiana's side and smiled at her; he did not possess the energy to decline. Georgiana was a pretty girl, but she and her mother were a test of his patience.
    “ Georgiana is a prodigy. She has been playing since she was a child!” the mother continued to sing the younger daughter's praises. “When she was six years old, I caught her playing a piece by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart!”
    “ My mother is exaggerating, I am afraid,” Georgiana pretended modesty. “I may be skilled, but I would not call myself a prodigy! I have more talent with a paintbrush, if I am being honest.”
    “ We should paint