Alice couldn’t hold in her mirth any longer. Giff glared at her. “What are you laughing about?”
In an attempt to stop, she waved her hand in front of her face. “It is funny. If you are a laird, what am I?”
“Still a lady.” He barked a laugh when she pouted.
She was glad his mood had improved. “I assume he is the stablemaster. What is his name?”
“Smith.” Giff stared across the short area separating the door. “I swear he’s been here since before my father. Here he comes brandishing a key.”
He took the key and opened the door. The smell of rotten hay and offal almost knocked her back. “This must be cleaned at once.”
“Ain’t my stable.” Smith said. “Not my job.” And walked away.
“Fergus.” Alice smiled at the Scotsman. “Just how many grooms might like to work for his lordship?”
An evil grin appeared on his freckled face. “Including the young stablemaster, me lady?”
“Naturally.”
He glanced at Giff. “What’ll ye pay, me laird?”
“I’ll pay twelve pence more per quarter than they are earning now.” Fergus looked at Robertson as if he’d just noticed him. “An who are ye?”
“Robertson.” He stood his ground at the clear attempt at intimidation.
Fergus’s eyes narrowed. “Got any Scots in ye?”
“My father’s side of the family is still in Scotland. He got work for an English lord and left. My mother’s English.”
Fergus stuck out his hand. “Glad to meet ye.” He pointed his chin toward Alice. “Working for her ladyship?”
“I am her groom.”
“Make sure Bromley knows. Unless I’m mistaken, he’ll be the new stablemaster.” Fergus turned to Giff. “Do ye need yer curricle? It’s best if ye come back later this afternoon to see about the stable. There’s likely to be a lot of shoutin’ and swearin’ going on here.”
Giff offered her his arm, and she took it but did not move. “Fergus, I would much rather have the stable staff hired before we depart. After that, you can swear and shout all you would like.”
Fergus glanced at Giff who nodded and took off toward the other stable. A few minutes later, he came back with their new stable-master and a sufficient number of grooms for their needs.
Smith followed them back as well, but she expected that. “Mr. Smith, I understand that you are not happy about losing some of your staff. However, I must point out that you have abrogated any duty toward this standing. Therefore, we have taken matters into our own hands. As you are not needed here, you may return to your duties.”
The old man opened and closed his mouth, reminding her of a fish, then turned around and stomped off.
“She always talk like that?” Fergus asked Robertson.
He smirked. “When she needs to.”
“I think me laird got hisself a fine lady. She’ll do well when we visit home.”
“We’ll be back later. Make a list of what we’ll need.” Giff led her off through the garden gate. “Well done, my love.”
“I have experience with men having more fun arguing than getting their work accomplished. Let us find out what is going on in the house.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Giff didn’t tell Alice, but when his grandfather arrived, Grandad’s staff would be told by Giff’s Scots servants that Alice was a right one. That made him proud. He took her hand as they walked through the garden to the house. “May we go to your house for luncheon and come back here later?”
“Yes. We can visit Hatchards before we return. We will need books to take with us.”
He didn’t plan to have time to read books, but one never knew. He supposed they couldn’t spend all their time in bed. After all, they’d be in company on the ship and while traveling in France. “That’s a good idea.”
“We also require contracts for all of our servants. Do you happen do know how much your father is paying the grooms?”
No. But he would make a point to find out. Fergus would know. “Not at the moment.”
“I will write to our solicitor and ask him to make up the contracts. We can add the amounts later.”
“Wait a minute.” He stopped and stared at Alice. “Do you mean to tell me you know how much they are making at Worthington House?”
“Of course I do.” She seemed surprised that he wouldn’t know that. “Ten pounds a year for a stable boy. The personal grooms earn fifteen pounds a year and the stablemaster twenty pounds.”
Why had he even doubted her. He’d been told she learned everything needed to run not only a household, but an estate as well.
When they arrived back several hours later, he drove directly to the mews. A wagon stood outside of the stables loaded with stinking hay. It was enough to make one cast his accounts. The wagon moved off and another one arrived with new bales of straw.
Fergus and Robertson strode up to them. Robertson bowed, and Fergus said, “Almost done. We’re waiting for oats and a few other things.”
“How’s the tack?”
