Part 6 (2/2)

Then she left the room.

It was easier for Flame to clean the floor when she didn't have to dodge around Mrs. Dodge's kicks.

Her knees and back were aching by the time she finished the kitchen floor but she couldn't stop. She still had the service hallway, laundry, and bathrooms to clean. The remaining rooms had rugs over wood flooring. She was sure that she'd be cleaning those, too, before long. But not with a scrub brush and vinegar water. Most likely with a vacuum cleaner.

In James' manor, they had machines to clean floors and chop vegetables. She had a.s.sumed that everyone had the same and was surprised that the Dodges scrubbed their floors on their hands and knees with a brush. Surely they weren't that poor.

When she opened a closet in the service hallway to clean the tile inside, she found the floor-cleaning machine. Mrs. Dodge didn't scrub her floors on their hands and knees. Only Flame deserved that special treat.

When Mr. Dodge came home and found Flame scrubbing the bathroom floor, he said nothing about it. Housework was his wife's business.

But he did reach down and fondle Flame's c.u.n.t for a minute while she continued to scrub. That was his business.

When he went to the kitchen to greet his wife, Flame had to go back down the hallway and clean up his dirty boot prints.

She could hear the Dodges speaking in the kitchen but their voices were too low for her to make out the words.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Dodge told her to get cleaned up and serve them in the dining room.

Flame's back and knees were stiff but she forced herself to get moving as quickly as she could. She had never served dinner before but she knew exactly how it was done because she had been served her whole life.

It took her a few minutes to find a tablecloth, dishes, and cutlery because she didn't want to bother the Dodges with her incompetence any more than absolutely necessary. She set the dining room table for two and then announced dinner.

She served the wine and then returned to the kitchen.

She was hungry lunch had been her only meal in more than twenty-four hours and working with the food made her mouth water. But she dared not sample even a bite. There could be hidden cameras and the punishment for stealing food would be severe.

She plated two salads as neatly as her own staff would have done and carried them to the dining room. Serving from the left was automatic.

While the Dodges were eating their salad, she carved the chicken and put the potatoes and asparagus in serving dishes. As soon as the Dodges had finished their salad, she cleared the salad plates from the right and then served each of the main dishes in the proper order.

She stood in attendance until the dinner was done. Watching the Dodges eat was a torture in itself. When they were finished, she cleared the dinner service and returned to the kitchen to fetch the creme caramel. She found them in the refrigerator. She knew that she wasn't supposed to serve them in the ramekins in which they'd been baked.

Turning them upside down on a dessert plate accomplished nothing. The creme caramel remained stubbornly in the ramekins. Casting about in desperation, she saw the recipes stacked on the counter. The creme caramel recipe was on the bottom. It said to loosen the custard from the side of the ramekin by running a knife around the edge.

Flame cursed herself for not thinking of the obvious.

Again, she stood in attendance while the Dodges ate. When she was clearing the dessert plates, she asked, ”Would sir and madam like coffee, tea, or an aperitif?”

Both wanted coffee. Decaf.

Flame lowered her eyes. ”I beg your indulgence, ma'am, but if you would be so kind as to show me how to make coffee this once, I promise that I'll never have to ask again.”

Mrs. Dodge glared at her husband. He grinned and shrugged. ”Just this once, dear, if you would be so kind.”

She rose and marched into the kitchen.

Flame scurried to keep up.

While she was filling the pot with water, Mrs. Dodge said, ”I should scourge every inch of skin from your back for this.”

”Yes, ma'am,” Flame said. ”I deserve no less and will endure any punishment that you wish to inflict upon me.”

”You certainly will.”

Flame was afraid of what Mrs. Dodge would do to her, but forced a brave face.

When the coffee was ready, Mrs. Dodge said, ”Serve us,” and returned to the dining room.

Flame served the coffee with cream and sugar on a silver tray that she found in a cupboard.

Mr. Dodge instructed Flame to stand before him while he sipped his coffee. ”Tell us how this dinner differed from the way dinner is prepared and served in a lord's home.”

”Obviously, the lord's wife would not have to cook the meal,” Flame said. ”That was my failing. I will learn to cook as quickly as I can and Mrs. Dodge will not have to cook again. Your food was not served as hot as it should have been. Again that was because Mrs. Dodge had to do the cooking. With experience, I will be able to time the dishes so that they finish cooking just before they are served and you will have more enjoyable meals.”

”Anything else.”

Flame shook her head.

”That's not good enough,” Mr. Dodge said. ”Do you know why I paid so much money for you?”

At the mention of money, Mrs. Dodge's head snapped around to glare at her husband.

”No, sir.”

”Because you grew up as a lady. Your experience will be invaluable to me, but only if you share it. Listen to me very carefully. You must tell me exactly how our behavior differs from that of a lord and lady. Exactly. Do not fear offending us. You will not be punished for correcting our table manners or deportment.” He glared back at Mrs. Dodge. ”But if we do not learn to behave correctly, if we entertain guests from the peerage and make any errors of etiquette, however minor, we will blame you and you will be disciplined swiftly and terribly. Do you understand?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Your job your real job is to make sure that Mrs. Dodge and I behave exactly as a lord and lady would behave. So do your job. Tell us, in detail, what we did wrong during the dinner.”

Flame licked her lips and summoned her courage. ”There were a few minor things. Barely noticeable. Not at all serious. But some things that would be done a little differently at a lord's table.”

”Tell me.”

”You ate your food in larger bites than a lord would. A lord would never fill a spoon more than half full. He would never put a piece of meat larger than a thumbnail in his mouth.”

”I see. What else?”

”A lord would never put a bite into his mouth until he had finished chewing and swallowing the previous bite. In fact, he would clear his mouth and make a few words of conversation before taking the next bite. At a lord's table, the conversation is considered more important than the food. Or, at least, that's the impression that the lord tries to give.”

”Is there more?”

”The most important thing is that a lord or lady would never open his mouth when there is food in it. He chews with his lips closed and swallows before opening them again. Every time.”

”And we don't?”

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