May 1913

Jean Blake had been born and raised to be a good Catholic. She had tried to abide by the tenets of the Church, to avoid sin and confess when she faltered. And her life had certainly included a fair amount of sin. And here, now, she found herself sinning once again. Jean was in the throes of pride.

She hadn't even found a Catholic church in Yorkshire to attend yet, so there would be no confessing this sin. And even worse, she hardly cared just now. She reveled in her pride. It just felt so bloody good to be able to feel at home and comfortable in her role. She had come a long way and she was pleased about it.

Last week, Lord Grantham—Robert—had come by to visit with Lucien, but he had left before Jean had a chance to be able to serve tea. And so today, Lady Grantham—Cora—had come for tea. Jean finally felt like she could run her household the way a baroness was supposed to, and being able to show it off to a friend was such a wonderful feeling.

"And how is the housekeeper working out?" Cora asked after sipping her tea.

"She's wonderful," Jean told her. And it was true. Mrs. Hughes and Cora both had assisted in reviewing the answers to the ad they'd placed on Jean's behalf, and after the interview, Jean knew for certain that she'd found the right candidate.

Mrs. Harvey was a no-nonsense sort of person. She lacked the softness that Mrs. Hughes displayed, but she had all the strength and authority that the Downton Abbey housekeeper possessed. Jean was a bit taken aback, but could see that she'd be quite suitable. And, of course, it did not hurt that she was Australian just like the new Boltons.

Jean had been concerned that Mrs. Harvey, like Mrs. Weaver before her, might balk at having a mistress to answer to with whom she had far too much in common. Jean worried that about any housekeeper they hired, that none of these properly trained English housekeepers would respect an Australian who was less than a year away from having been a housekeeper herself. She'd tested Mrs. Harvey, coming right out and telling her that she'd worked as a housekeeper for a doctor in Ballarat. Mrs. Harvey's only response was to say that she was from Melbourne and had heard Ballarat was a nice place, though she'd never been there herself.

"Has she settled into the household well?" Cora asked.

"She has," Jean replied. "Hopkins did tell me quite bluntly that I'd chosen will with Mrs. Harvey. And Mrs. Carter, our cook, told me that Mrs. Harvey does keep to herself but that the staff are all getting along well with her."

"And are you getting along with her?"

Jean had to smile. Cora knew of Jean's worries about finding someone with whom she could work effectively and form the same kind of mutual respect and appreciation that Jean had already formed with Mrs. Carter. "I am," Jean assured her friend. "She's been very blunt about some things, but she's very bright and experienced and confident in her position, and she's not given me any trouble whatsoever. She's been as much a help to me as Hopkins and Mrs. Carter have been. I think she fits quite well here, and it's certainly helped me find my place."

Cora's sapphire eyes sparkled as she smiled with genuine pleasure at what Jean told her. "Oh I am glad, Jean. I know what a shock to the system it is to suddenly be part of the peerage, and I hoped things would go well for you and Lucien here. And having a good staff to support goes such a long way to that."

"I'm certainly seeing that," Jean agreed. "Things all seem to be coming together. We're getting used to things and finding our way. We're happy here."

"Good," Cora said. She took another sip of her tea.

Jean did the same and tried to decide how best to change the subject of the conversation. "And how have you been, Cora?" she asked, hoping that was a somewhat innocuous place to begin.

The countess visibly deflated. "I'll admit, it's not been the easiest week."

"Robert was worried about you, when he came last week. I don't know if he told you that he left before tea so he could get home to you," Jean told her, concerned.

A sad smile crossed Cora's face. "He told me that Lucien had helped him see that I needed him. And I did, I just wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know how to tell him, and I didn't want to say anything until I knew for certain. I thought I might have been pregnant, you see."

Jean's eyes went wide. She knew Cora was about her age, and Jean could not imagine the burden of being pregnant. A blessing, of course, but a difficult one.

"But then last week it became quite clear that I wasn't. And I suppose it was silly of me to get my hopes up. I hadn't even thought about having another baby until I thought it might be a possibility. It's for the best, of course, I can't imagine being spending nine months pregnant at my age."

"Nor can I," Jean agreed, Cora having taken the words right out of her mouth.

"I was a bit upset about it, though, finding out I wasn't going to have another baby. I didn't realize I would be until the truth came. And I could tell Robert was a bit disappointed when I told him that I wasn't pregnant. I know he's always wanted a son, and I haven't been able to give him one. I can't imagine I ever will."

Jean could hear the pain in Cora's tone, even as her soft, gentle voice smoothed over it. The idea of heirs and such were so foreign to Jean, even still. But she did know something about longing for motherhood. "I sometimes wish that Lucien and I had met ten years ago and he and I could have had children together. I don't think we ever will, which is for the best, I'm sure. I had my two boys. Lucien lost his wife and daughter a very long time ago. He'd be a wonderful father, I know. I wish I could have given him the opportunity."

Cora gazed at Jean curiously. "I think it's very interesting that you and I are so similar, Jean, for all that life has been very different for each of us."

"Life's funny that way, I suppose," Jean answered. "An American heiress turned to the perfect countess, an Australian farmgirl housekeeper stumbling into being a baroness. Our paths have been quite different, but we've ended up so similarly."

"Well, I'm glad of it," Cora said with another of her lovely smiles.

"So am I," Jean agreed softly. And she was quite proud of it, too.