Maxine was quite aware that the side door was the only form of exit and entry for service people. They were not to enter the main doors unless they were ordered to by their masters.

As she stood facing the wooden side entrance, she wondered which doors bastards such as her ought to use. If she were to ask anyone with strong opinion against bastards, mayhap that someone would point her to the window or the chimney.

Setting her thoughts aside, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door.

She heard a clashing sound from inside the kitchen followed by a round of laughter. One distinct shrilling laugh was coming closer to the door and Maxine prepared herself. She squared her shoulders and prepared herself as she heard the sound of the lock and the door swung open.

What greeted him was the laughing face of a petite brown-haired maid who seemed startled at the sight of Maxine. But the stunned expression changed to that of curiosity and great interest.

"Hello," the young woman greeted with a sweet smile as she batted her eyes at Maxine. "How may I be of service, young sir?"

Maxine cleared her throat and tried to offer a small smile in return. "Good day, ma'am. I am here under the invitation of Lord Nicholas Everard. My name's Max... Max Richeman—not a rich man, but Richman."

The woman laughed out loud, causing a few more heads to pop into view. One was that of a taller young maid with dark hair, another that of an old woman and two gentlemen who might be the butler and the footman.

"You are funny!" the woman said, giving a small curtsy. "My name's Molly."

Maxine bowed. "Nice to meet you, Miss Molly."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Just Molly, Max." She batted her eyes at her once again.

Maxine smiled. "Molly then."

"You say you are here on invitation by his lordship?"

She nodded. "Yes. He invited me to apply for the position of footman—his valet, to be precise."

The larger young man behind Molly jumped to his feet with a smile. "Finally!" He turned to the lanky man beside him. "There you go, Oscar—a valet!"

But it seemed as though the man named Oscar was not quite pleased to see Maxine. He was giving her a speculative look and for the first time since she arrived in Wickhurst, Maxine felt overtly conscious. But she kept her smile to herself and lifted her chin. "I came from the Theobalds."

The eyes of everyone staring at him widened save for Oscar's.

"I have Lord Theobald's referral with me if you wish to see it," she said, addressing Oscar whom she was now certain to be the butler.

"How marvelous!" Molly said, turning to give the taller young maid an exciting look. "Look, Lottie, someone from the Theobalds!"

Lottie smiled shyly but nodded her head to share Molly's excitement.

"Do come in, young lad," the old woman said, waving her hand. "Oscar will inform the master of your arrival."

Everyone stepped aside to give way for Maxine. She rearranged her bag over her shoulder and walked into the kitchen.

Molly dutifully dragged a chair for her but Maxine did not miss the look of disdain on Oscar's eyes as the maid continued to stare at Maxine, asking countless questions she could hardly keep up with.

Overwhelmed by the welcoming atmosphere brought about by Molly, Lottie and the old woman, she easily found it easier to think that this might just work. She could be with these people until it was time for her to save more money, move on to Willowfair and find her mother. She could not stay long in Wickhurst for her brother was here.

"This is Fanny," Molly said, introducing the old lady. "She is the housekeeper. She serves as the cook at the moment as the lady who used to hold the post had recently gotten a better employment elsewhere. This is Lottie, the scullery maid. I am the chambermaid, of course." She turned to the larger man standing beside Oscar. "This is Albin, the footman. He used to valet for his lordship but he had been quite busy doing many other things. As you can see, we are the entire staff. His lordship does not wish to have a lot as he is not home most often and never entertains parties."

"You are saving my life, Max," Albin uttered with a smile. "We may merely have one master, but we do lack an extra pair of hands."

"And this is Oscar, the butler," Molly said curtly. "He oversees everything for his lordship."

Maxine smiled at everyone. "It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies and gentlemen."

Oscar finally made a sound and although Maxine was not able to discern it quite well, it did not sound promising. "Until you are hired, you are but a passerby."

Everyone else turned and glared at the butler who did not even flinch at the murderous stares he was receiving. With a sharp turn, he headed for the doorway that led to somewhere inside the manor. "I shall inform his lordship of your arrival."

"My referral!" Maxine said, jumping to her feet to retrieve the paper she had written and signed herself using her father's signature and stamp. She walked over to Oscar, holding out the paper. He snatched it out of her hand and walked away without another word.

"Mind him not, dear," Fanny reassured. "He is simply a grumpy young man."

"While other butlers are quite fun, he is amongst the exceptions," Albin said, sitting on the table, arms crossed over his chest.

Maxine suddenly felt uneasy as all eyes were on her, studying her as if she was a rare creature from aboveground. She let out an awkward smile, settling back in her chair.

"What made you decide to leave Theobald?" Lottie asked, speaking for the first time, her black eyes filled with curiosity.

"I wanted to experience something different, see?" Maxine said, having rehearsed her answers while in the carriage with the two drunkard hours ago.

Molly smiled at her. "Well, everybody wishes to work in Wickhurst!"

"Yes," Maxine replied.

"What was your post at Theobald?" Albin asked.

She cleared her throat. "I was a second footman."

Albin frowned. "And his lordship thought you would be a good valet?"

Maxine shrugged. "He thought it is far well to train someone barely trained than have one who has already acquired old habits."

"Spoken like Nicholas Everard himself," Fanny said with a chuckle. She turned and walked over to a counter. "You must be hungry. Do eat some cookies and milk."

Molly caught Maxine's eyes and she whispered, "Take just one cookie," her tone filled with warning. Albin nodded his dark brown head behind Molly and turned away with a cough when Fanny turned with a plate full of cookies and a glass of milk in both hands.

Lottie simply laughed and started for the doorway. "I do have many things to do. I hope to see you around the household soon, Max."

Maxine nodded. "Me, too, Miss Lottie."

"Just Lottie—just Lottie."

She nodded and the tall girl walked out with a small wave of her hand.

"Do try the cookies," Fanny said, pushing the cookie toward Maxine. She carefully chose a piece and took a bite. She did not miss the grimace on Albin's face as she chewed the tasteless crumbs. Molly was giving her a look of pity.

Bloody hell, it was nearly disgusting!

She forced a smile on her lips. "It is good, Fanny, thank you."

Fanny flushed and gave a wave of her hand. "Oh, bother not. I know it tastes awful!"

Albin and Molly finally let out a laugh.

Maxine reached for the milk and flushed the taste of the cookie from her mouth. At the same time, Oscar reappeared in the doorway, his prim and proper mien perfectly in place.

"The master wishes to see you."

Maxine almost choked on her milk. "Now?" she asked Oscar.

The butler nodded once. "Now."

"Go," Fanny said. "And leave your things here!" she said, taking Maxine's bag.

"Go, go!" Molly cheerfully said.

Albin gave her an encouraging look. "Remember, you are my savior. Do make me proud!"

Maxine nodded and followed Oscar who stiffly guided her out of the kitchen and out into the dining hall, across it and into a large hallway.

Nicholas Everard's apartment was not like the Theobald mansion, but it was clearly expensive. The wooden pillars, the large paintings, the delicate furnishings, everything shouted bachelor and rich. Worthy of an Everard, she noted in her mind as she walked past the staircase into a corridor.

They stopped outside a closed door to the right.

Oscar did not open it for the man took a long moment to study Maxine. His black eyes were making her utterly uncomfortable instead of fearful. Her decision not to hope for the man to show his approval of her was correct for he merely shook his head before he reached for the knob and pushed the door open.

Her heart began to hammer against her chest as Oscar walked into the room and announced, "The young man hoping for the valet position is here, my lord."

"Of course! Of course!" Nicholas' voice said from inside.

Maxine looked over her shoulder down at the empty corridor. Could she find her way back to the kitchen, grab her bag and run away? Surely this was not a famous idea!

What was she thinking!

But it was too late to run now. Oscar had turned to her with an expectant and impatient look on his face.

She was frozen in her spot for a moment. Oscar narrowed his eyes at her and impatiently waved for her to come into the room.

With what was left of her strength, Maxine stepped into the room.

Her heart nearly stopped when her eyes beheld the handsome man behind the desk.

He was smiling at her, his green eyes glimmering with familiarity.

Handsome, truly handsome!

"Ah, Max!" Nicholas said, grin growing wider. "Come closer, young lad."

Oscar gave a short bow and retreated out of the room. Although Maxine was not fond of him, she had the sudden urge to beg him to stay.

"You cannot imagine my surprise when Oscar came to inform me of your presence!" Nicholas said as Maxine walked to stand before him, his study table standing between them.

"Imagine mine, milord," she said. "Surprise, of course," she reiterated. "I mean I was surprised as well to have found myself in Wickhurst and here. But I am glad you do remember me, milord."

Nicholas shook his head. "Ah, I care not why or how you happen to be here. What is of import is that you are here in my household. Albin had been neglecting most of his duties due to lack people, of course. We had been searching for another man to fill the place of the valet." His smile lingered as he added, "And of course I do remember you. You are the only valet I had encountered who cannot tie a cravat. Add that you up and disappeared after you showed me to my chamber!"

Maxine spread her arms to her side. "And the incompetent one has finally returned, milord."

Nicholas chuckled. "Give yourself a week, Max, and you shall not be saying the same thing." She frowned when he laughed once more. "Oh, bloody hell, I do love calling you Max!"

She smiled, not entirely sure why she was trying to sound amused as well when it was obvious she did not know the cause of his humor.

"Very well, I shall leave you in Oscar's care. He shall discuss with you the conditions of your pay. Albin shall be tasked to orient you of the nature of your work. He does know my preferences and I trust that you can learn fast." He stood up, fixing his cravat as he did so. "And I do hope you can learn how to tie a cravat like this one."

Maxine smiled and nodded. "Yes, I believe I shall be able to learn that soon, milord. One of us ought to learn, after all."

Nicholas stared at her, eyes filled with mirth. "I am on my way to Grey's tonight," he informed her, "the place in Wickhurst where I am often found. I believe you have heard of it?"

"It is a gentlemen's pub, milord." Samuel had told her about it and her brother had many amusing stories of the place he shared with her.

"Good that you know. You are not so naïve about Wickhurst then, I assume?"

"If I am, I shall try not to be very soon, milord."

"That is the spirit, Max," Nicholas uttered, walking around his table.

"Grey's is a second home, of course. I spend time there when I am not working and should any untoward thing happen in the household, you search for me at Grey's or at any of my brothers' residences or the Everard manor."

"But Grey's is a pub, milord. How is that home?"

Nicholas laughed. "You do not know me well yet, young man." He shook his head. "Yet I do have to admit that Grey's is getting quite boring. You must have heard of my sister's recent marriage with Wakefield. The man rarely comes to join me and my brothers for drinks and card games and I have my sister to blame! He had been a fun friend before he married."

Maxine bit her lower lip to keep from giving a retort. He was blaming Ysabella for her husband's absence in a gentlemen's pub? No wonder Nicholas Everard was unmarried still!

Nicholas was looking at her, laughter in his eyes. "Well, why don't we try how well you can do your first task?" he asked, walking closer toward her.

She gulped. "First task?"

Nicholas Everard nodded, his smile rendering Maxine mesmerized. How could one creature be so handsome?

"My coat, Max."

She heard the words too late, but when she did she jumped to her feet and looked around the room. She found a coat hanging on a rack and she rushed toward it.

She held it open for him and the process of helping him into it was rather awkward for he towered her considerably. But it was done and Nicholas shrugged the remaining inches of the coat over his shoulders for a perfect fit.

Maxine fought the urge to run her hand over his broad shoulders. Instead of endangering the only work she might find in Wickhurst, she clasped her hands into fists beside her.

Nicholas made a sharp turn and faced her, his smile lingering on his lips. "I do love ordering you about, Max," he said with a chuckle. "You shall hear of many trivial orders in the future."

Maxine could not quite understand why he found her name amusing, but she smiled nonetheless.

It was not well to displease one's master.

Nicholas walked to the door, stopped and turned to her. "The door, Max."

Maxine walked to the door and held it open.

Nicholas was chuckling as he walked past her. "Max! How famous!" his voice was heard saying down the corridor. "I ought to bring you to one of my hunting trips with my brothers!"

With a slight shake of her head, Maxine walked out the study and found Oscar already waiting for her outside. He gave her a strong stare. "Follow me."

Maxine looked down the corridor and saw Nicholas disappear as he turned to enter the hall.

She could do this, she thought.

She had to.

*****

"Should you need a break which is merely an hour during the day, I can take over," Albin was saying as they stood in the middle of Nicholas' bedchamber.

Maxine nodded.

"Now, Lord Nick does prefer to be called as such. He owns the Whiston estate just miles off of Wickhurst and he hates to be addressed as Lord Whiston."

"Why?"

Albin shrugged. "He believes it sounds like whistle and he is not one who can whistle."

Maxine scoffed and shook her head.

"Now, he does have many preferences, but they are simple things one can do and master." Albin walked over to show her Nicholas' wardrobe. "He wants his clothes free of dust so we cover it with linen wrappers." She followed him to the washstand. "He shaves on his own, but you ought to clean the razor and brushes the soonest you can. He does not like untidy articles."

Maxine listened carefully as Albin went on, talking about the proper moment to brush damp clothing to free them of roughness, how wide the curtains should be opened, how often should he consult with linen-drapers, tailors and even perfumers, and many other trivial things that Nicholas could in fact do on his own should he only wish to. But then he was Nicholas Everard and he was rich and he could afford to pay for people to do such things for him.

"And what shall I do when the master is out?" she asked, hoping to hear that she could spend the spare time on her own. She would love to have some from time to time to look for ways on how to find her mother.

"You wait for his return, of course," Albin uttered, walking out of the chamber as she followed. As they walked through the corridor, Albin added, "But there are days when the master would want to bring you, most particularly if he is to spend days out of Wickhurst. He does not bring any when he visits one of his brothers' estates, but he does bring one when he travels to Willowfair or anywhere else in the Town."

"But while I wait for his return, what shall I do? Surely I cannot simply stand idle, yes?"

Albin nodded. "Now that there are two of us footmen in the household, I take control of other things that must be taken care of that Oscar refuses to do. That pathetic man does what he merely wishes to do."

Maxine rolled her eyes at the mention of the butler. It was merely an hour ago when the man narrated the conditions of her pay, what he expected of her and what he did not expect her to do which was considerably far more than the former.

"Now, I must show you around the apartment," Albin said. "But before that, you must change into your uniform."

"Of course," she said.

"The clothes are laid on your bed in our room."

She blanched. "Our room?"

"Of course. Footmen share one room. Thank goodness Oscar has his own."

Bloody hell.

"Follow me," Albin said, tilting his head to the side.

Maxine told herself sharing a room with a man such as Albin was all right. He seemed like a gentleman. It was better than having to share a room with grumpy Oscar.

The room was located at the back of the house along the narrow corridor for service people. She looked around the tiny but neat space. Albin's bed was to the right, neatly made. Hers was on the other side, merely two steps away from the first bed. On top lay three sets of dark grey trousers, high-buttoned waistcoats, black tailcoats and a derby hat.

"Dare not look so disappointed," Albin said with a chuckle. "We are not to dress more handsomely than our masters. Masters are not so different from mistresses, you see. I even do believe that they have far more needs than the women!"

She chuckled in response.

"Well, do go on. Get dressed and—"

"Of course," she uttered, already panicking.

"And while you do so, I will go to the back and talk with Molly. I believe she might want to see how your clothes fit. She could help with any adjustments. She is great at it," he said with pride.

Maxine sighed in relief when Albin walked out of their room. She rushed to the door. She turned the lock before she began to undress. She rearranged the layers of bandages over her chest, a trick she learned from one of the maids in Theobald to hide the mound of her breasts, and rushed to change into her new uniform.

As expected, everything was loose save for the trousers which had adjustable buttons.

Someone had brought her satchel back inside the room. She checked its contents and found them to be as how she had last arranged them inside. She merely hoped no one had looked inside to see the feminine articles within. With a sigh, Maxine hid the bag under her bed and stood up.

Feeling awkward in loose clothing, she seemed restless. She was used to playing roles with perfectly fit costumes.

There was no mirror and she needed one to arrange her hair neatly. Walking out of the room, she walked back to the hall where a large ornamental mirror hung on one wall. Albin had long hair as well, but he tied it behind his neck and she did the same. She smoothed the rough edges with the palms of her hands. One of the many things Oscar had pointed out earlier was neatness.

Bloody hell, she did look like a pretty boy, really!

No wonder those two bastards from the carriage and the tavern had been laughing at the sight of her!

As she studied her reflection, she could not help but look at herself with distaste. Perhaps she ought to search for Molly herself. She needed to have her clothes adjusted as soon as possible. She looked like she was wearing a dress at the state of how the clothes were hanging over her shoulders. The tailcoat almost reached her ankles!

The sudden knock on the door caused her to jump to her feet. She looked around the hall and found no one there. Was Oscar not supposed to be here answering the door? Was she, Maxine, allowed to answer calls?

The impatient knocking continued and she winced. Hesitating, Maxine rushed to the door.

Ah, bloody hell. She was a footman. She could very well open doors!

The knocking did not stop and it somehow got her cross. Whoever this was, he ought to be carrying important news, otherwise why the impatient knocking?

Not heeding proper grace that butlers often had when opening doors, Maxine pulled the door open.

What greeted her was someone who looked angrier than she. And although she was fighting a scowl, he was already wearing his and she would not be surprised if he had been wearing it all his life.

The man standing before was quite big and his built cast a shadow over her as she looked up at him. His messy shoulder-length hair was giving him an impression of a lion with black mane about to pounce on his prey.

He was glaring at her with vexed green eyes as he demanded, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Maxine's breath caught in her throat.

Green eyes.

Bloody hell. Of all the luck she could find!

She was facing another Everard brother.