Innocence (10 page)

“Of course I would appreciate it, my lord,” she said. “But I’m a servant. It’s not possible.”

“Well, it should be."
 

Intimidated by Nathaniel’s fierce expression, she lowered her gaze.

“Why do you care?’ she asked when the silence that followed his words stretched for some time.

He didn’t reply, and she looked up to see him staring out a window, one hand gripping the back of his neck.

“My lord?” she prompted.
 

“I just want you to be happy.” He turned to face her. “Foolish of me, as you’re obviously quite content with your lot and don’t need me interfering. I’ll send Stephens to escort you back to the kitchen.”

Leaving the books spread out on the table, he strode towards the door.
 

“Lord Marsden?” Lisa called after him, not wanting him to leave thinking she was unappreciative of his gesture.

He stopped and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“Thank you for your kind offer.” His rueful smile encouraged her to continue. “There is something you could do for me—grant me permission to do—if it wouldn’t be too much to ask?”

“Anything.”
 

“I don’t want to be seen shirking my duty, but I would dearly love to
borrow
some books. Even if I could only read for a short while before bed, it would be such a treat.”
 

“Of course, take as many as you like.” He closed the distance between them. “No doubt you’ll surprise me with your choices. You did mention eclectic tastes. Maybe I can help to broaden them? Or quite possibly you’ll broaden mine.”

“Since I’m sure you spent many years studying at a fine university?”

“Eton.” He nodded.

“And I merely had the educational benefit of a retired governess. I doubt you’ll find my tastes particularly enlightening.”

“Let’s see shall we?” He gestured for her to precede him towards the teeming shelves.

They spent the next hour exploring the various sections of the library, comparing favourite authors, poets, and playwrights. Lisa tried to hide the extent of her knowledge, but Nathaniel seemed willing to excuse all manner of irregularity, just as he was happy to accept her fictitious background without examining the details too closely. The time passed quickly, but then she made the mistake of glancing one too many times towards the French language section of the library.

“Lisa,
parlez-vous français
?”
 

“
Oui, mon seigneur
,” she replied automatically and then whirled to face him.

“There’s no need to be afraid.” He smiled gently. “I suspected you’d speak the language. Your mother would have taught you when you were a child.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Lisa released the breath she was holding.
 

His smile widening, Nathaniel launched into a discussion comparing various authors and poets in fluent French. Smiling in return, Lisa was more than happy to challenge some of his opinions and enjoyed the opportunity to use what sometimes felt like her first language. It was a while since she’d had someone to converse with in French, as Miss Brewer had left her father’s employ just after Lisa’s eighteenth birthday.
 

Forcing aside her thoughts of home, she focused on Nathaniel’s passionate defence of a poet she considered sentimental. While their tastes overlapped more often than not, it was stimulating to debate their differences. Lisa could have continued their discussion indefinitely, but to her embarrassment, her stomach grumbled. It was well past noon, and heaven only knew what Chef Peters thought had become of her.

“It was thoughtless of me to keep you from your midday meal, and your work, I suppose.” Nathaniel brushed aside her apology, and put the book they had been discussing back on the shelf. “I’d best let you go.”

He seemed reluctant to end their time together, a fact she found immensely—and
foolishly
—flattering.

“One last thing?” she asked.

“Yes?” He moved closer.

“There’s a French language journal I discovered the other day full of the most amazing recipes. It’s handwritten, and I wouldn’t want to risk it being damaged, but I wondered if I could sit and write out some of the recipes into English?”

“Of course. Is that where you found the recipe for the chocolate pastries?”

Smiling, she withdrew the journal from the shelves and placed it on a nearby table. When she opened it to the recipe in question, Nathaniel came to stand behind her, close enough to read over her shoulder. Leaning forward, he began to leaf through the pages, his chest brushing against her back.

Lisa froze, stunned by the feel of him surrounding her. Slowly, deliberately, she inhaled, drawing his masculine scent deep into her lungs. It was intoxicating, and she swayed a little against him.

“Delicious,” he murmured, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder.

Lisa could have sworn she felt him breathe in against her neck.
 

“Pardon?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“This recipe.” Nathaniel pointed. “Blueberry Flan with Cognac. It sounds delicious.”

“Oh yes, I’ve baked that before.” She nodded and then froze again. He was standing so close, her hair brushed against his cheek when she moved. Turning her head to the side, she met his gaze, noting with surprise that his eyes had darkened to a midnight blue.
 

“Would you like me to make it for you?” she whispered.

Nathaniel smiled slowly.

“I’d like that very much.”
 

“Is there anything else you’d like?” she asked, savouring the feel of his body so close to hers. “Any special requests?”

“Special requests?” Nathaniel swallowed, and Lisa watched, fascinated, as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
 

“A favourite recipe,” she clarified.

“Oh.” He chuckled and stepped away. “I am quite partial to Cream of Truffle Sauce. I’ve had it with poached salmon, but I imagine it would go well with other dishes. Quail maybe?”

Lisa nodded thoughtfully. She had only ever cooked with truffles a few times as they were difficult to obtain, but hopefully Chef Peters would know how to obtain them. It would be such a pleasure to do something special for Nathaniel after he had been so kind and attentive.

Leaving her writing out recipes from the journal, he promised to send Stephens to make sure she wasn’t disturbed. Her enthusiasm dampened somewhat by her taciturn escort, she returned to the kitchens for a
very
late lunch. Chef Peters seemed sceptical of her excuse for being delayed until Lisa showed him the recipes she had translated. His manner soon thawed, and they began discussing the possibility of acquiring black truffles this late in the season. When she found out how much they cost, she gasped. It would take months at her current wages to afford even the smallest piece.

“Don’t worry,” the chef said. “Your discovering the marquis has a favourite dish is well worth the expense, though I’m not sure who to send to market. There’s a bit of an art to choosing a quality truffle.”

“I’ve had some experience.” Lisa’s words earned a puzzled look from the chef, and she rushed to explain. “My last employer catered to well to do holiday makers and cooked all manner of exotic dishes. He taught me what to look for.”

The chef studied her for a long moment before nodding. “In that case, Miss Brown, I believe you have earned a trip into the village.”

Chapter 9

To Market . . .

Although looking forward to a much needed break from work, Lisa worried how her roommates would respond to her being singled out for an opportunity to escape the Hall. When Mrs Donaldson announced all three girls had been granted leave to travel into Worthy the next day, she was both relieved and amused by her friends’ blatant delight.
 

“Don’t be expecting such liberties on a regular basis.” Mrs Donaldson eyed Lisa in particular. “You can be grateful I’m in a generous mood."

Lisa thanked her profusely, though she had a fair idea who was responsible for the housekeeper’s generosity.
 

Whenever she thought of Nathaniel—which was often—Lisa felt positively giddy. She struggled to keep the smile from her face, deflecting the other girls’ questions about her mood with a remark about the clement spring weather. Sally’s jealousy was something she would rather not provoke. Nor did she want Ruth’s pessimism to spoil the memory of the magical hours she had spent alone with Nathaniel. It wasn’t as if he was likely to seek out her company again, but if he did, Lisa doubted she could be dissuaded. The risks were minimal, or so she told herself, a blatant justification on her part considering her precarious circumstance. With her life tipped upon its head, she was hard-pressed to deny herself what happiness she could find . . . however fleeting.

As soon as the girls completed their breakfast duties, they raced up the many flights of stairs to change into their town clothes. Sally’s and Ruth’s dresses were more brightly coloured than Lisa’s, but they immediately recognised the superior quality of her gown.

“It was a gift from a lady who stayed at the inn where I worked,” she said, saddened at how adept she had become at deception.

Mimicking the other girls, Lisa let her hair down from her staid bun, brushing it out until it rippled and shone. They were all too old to go about in public with their hair loose, but with Ruth’s assistance, Lisa fashioned hers in a more flattering style than the one she was required to wear for work. Pleased with the result, Lisa found herself wishing Nathaniel could see her looking a little more like her true self. To her relief, Mrs Donaldson loaned Lisa a few coins in advance of her wages. The much greater sum of money she was given by Chef Peters, along with a stern warning not to let the others know of its existence, she tied to the petticoat beneath her skirt.
 

“I promise to be careful,” she said after the chef left her in no doubt both coin and condiment—if she was lucky enough to obtain any truffles—were worth more than she was.

The girls travelled into Worthy in the back of an enormous delivery cart driven by Ben, one of the grooms, and accompanied by some kitchen-hands who would be stocking up on produce for the kitchens. Young Sam, the lad Lisa had first encountered the day of her arrival at Worthington Hall, was granted permission to attend under Ben’s watchful eye and chatted away for most of the journey. Lisa liked the boy, his cheeky smile accompanied by an eagerness to please. He had recently been granted his wish to transfer from the kitchen to work with the horses, and he was very excited about his new position of stable boy. It didn’t hurt her interest in the conversation that he was fulsome in his praise of Nathaniel’s “cattle,” as he called them, and of his new master.
 

Lisa couldn’t help noticing the shy glances Ruth sent Ben’s way and the way the driver watched her when he thought no one was looking. It seemed there was a romance budding between her kind new friend and the shy groom. She was happy for them, though the thought of their making a life together one day triggered a wave of melancholy that dampened her mood. Nothing could ever come of her feelings for Nathaniel, but even after such a brief—and
strange—
acquaintance, she could not imagine another gentleman taking his place in her affections.

On arrival in the village, Lisa spotted a newspaper lying on a trestle table and bid the girls go ahead without her. After reading a headline decrying the deplorable behaviour of the runaway bride and jewel thief, Miss Anna Barlow, she sat down with a thump. As she read the article, Lisa covered her mouth to stifle a cry. It said there had been a fire in their carriage house, and her father’s body had been burned beyond recognition. The finger of suspicion had been pointed at Sir George’s daughter, as it had been reported she had run away the night of the fire rather than marry her father’s grieving heir. It also said she had stolen a priceless family heirloom, and a reward had been offered for its return and her capture.

Lisa’s hand formed a fist that crumpled the paper, Lord Copeland’s powers of deceit far exceeding her worst imaginings.
 

“Oh, Papa,” she whispered. Even with the Duke’s help, she wondered how this tangled web of lies would ever be unravelled.

The description given of her was vague, but the article made mention of her red hair, so Lisa carefully tucked the loose curls she had artfully arranged inside her bonnet. Lord Copeland was searching for her in a different part of the country, or so the paper said, but there was no point taking chances

Catching up with the girls, Lisa put on a brave face. Spending the morning exploring the covered stalls that formed a maze in the town square went a long way towards dispelling her melancholy. After posing over the displays, the girls parted with some of their hard-earned pennies. Lisa bought a sapphire blue ribbon the girls said went well with her dress. The fact she chose it for its similarity to Nathaniel’s eye colour was something she kept to herself. Sally picked out a pretty cameo brooch and Ruth some lace to trim her dress.
 

Temporarily reduced to wearing the dull and sober uniform of a maid, and with only one dress to her name, Lisa yearned for her wardrobe of gowns and the luxuries she had always taken for granted. It was sobering to think that possessing only one or two dresses was all her new friends had ever known.