Maid to Be Mine: A Regency Cinderella Story (4 page)

Her life, as she knew it, was officially over.

Chapter Four

Cynthia couldn't sleep again, and for a multitude of reasons. She was still plagued by her father's death, but even if he was alive and well, there was no way she could sleep under these circumstances. The room was drafty and cold, and the bedsheets were itchy. She thought she felt something crawling on her leg in the middle of the night, most likely a bed bug. On top of everything, she was sharing a room with Tess, whose loud snoring seemed to vibrate the walls.

When Tess woke up and saw her eyes open, she asked, “Already awake?” Cynthia didn't have the heart to tell her she had gotten less than an hour of sleep, and that Tess was one of the reasons for her sleeplessness.

“
Yes...” Cynthia moaned. “I'm awake.”

“
Good, 'cuz we wake up bright and early!” Tess rolled out of bed and started collecting her clothes. As she tossed a tatty maid's dress at Cynthia, she shouted, “Wear this.”

Cynthia held up the dress and frowned. It looked like typical maid's attire, except it was much too large for her. Tess was short and plump and nothing like Cynthia. Their differing body types should have been obvious, but Tess didn't bat an eye.

“
We break our fast together, then we get right to work!” Tess said as she shoved her feet into a pair of dingy slippers. “You'll be working with Robert in the stables today.”

Cynthia sat up and clenched her fists. “What?! The stables?!”

“
I suppose you'll be a groom of sorts. It's a strange job for a lady, but I've done it before, so you should be alright. Caring for the horses can be fun, actually, so we decided to start you off with that.” Tess headed for the door. “Now, I'll leave you to get dressed.”

When Tess was gone, Cynthia dragged herself out of bed and started to put on the dress, which was so large, it slipped right over her head. Tess was much shorter than she was, so the dress fell to her mid-calf, which was more than a bit awkward. Cynthia hadn't had her ankles exposed since she was in pinafores. She tried to comb her hair and pin it, but the resulting style was a complete mess. Fortunately, she did not have a looking glass, so she was not subjected to the sight of her hair, nor was she subjected to the sight of the immense bags under her eyes.

Cynthia wandered into the next room, where the three servants were sitting at their usual table. Cynthia sat in the empty seat, and Tess presented her with a bowl of food—if, indeed, it could even be called “food.” It was lumpy, tasteless porridge, but Cynthia was so hungry, she ended up scraping the bowl.

“
You actually like this slop?” Robert observed. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, raised it up, tilted the spoon, and let the lumpy drippings rain back into his bowl.

“
No, I do not care for it,” Cynthia said. She hoped she didn't offend the cook, whomever he was. “At the moment, however, I would happily consume anything and everything I could get my hands on!”

“
Fair enough. By the way, you're with me today,” Robert said.
“I know. I've been warned.”

“
Warned?!” Robert chuckled. “Is working with me such a bad thing?”

It
was
a bad thing. For one, she couldn't shake the feeling that Robert was trouble. Maybe it was the hint of mischief in his eyes, but something told her to be wary of him. Secondly, Cynthia was unaccustomed to being alone with men. She wished Tess would recognize that fact and save her from an afternoon with Robert.

But it wasn't going to happen. As soon as they finished eating, Robert rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Come on. I'll take you to the stables.”

As she stared at his outstretched fingers, her nose involuntarily crinkled. His hands, still unwashed, were as dirty as ever. “You want me to take your hand?”

“
Not especially, Princess.” To prove it, Robert shoved his hands into his pockets. “Come on. I'll lead the way.”

Cynthia rose from her rickety chair and followed him out the door, but not before casting a desperate look to Tess, which prompted the older woman to shout, “Behave yourself, Robert!”

“
I'm always well-behaved!” Robert was rolling his eyes as he stepped into the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure the lady was still following him. He saw that she was lagging behind, so he barked, “Come on. Hurry up!”

Robert had incredibly long legs, so she had to sprint to keep up with him. “You know,” Cynthia began, “you should really wash your hands.”

“
I don't see the point in that! After a day's work, my hands are just going to get dirty anyway.”

“
They're already dirty. They're going to get filthy,” Cynthia said.

“
I'm not as filthy as you think I am. I
do
bathe,” Robert insisted.

“
And when's the last time you bathed, exactly? I imagine it was quite some time ago.”

“
You
imagine
,” Robert repeated with a chuckle. “You need to spend less time imagining me scrubbing my naked body and more time thinking about the task at hand.”

Cynthia gasped. Never in her life had she been spoken to in such a way! She closed her mouth and held her tongue as she followed him into the stables, because no good could come from conversing with him.

As soon as they were inside, Robert grabbed a horse brush from the wall and tossed it at her. She nearly dropped it. “Here. Groom the horses.”

In what world did he think he could order her around?! Yesterday, she was Lord Montforth's daughter. Today, she was a lowly maid, taking orders from an equally lowly servant. She couldn't believe how far down the social ladder she had fallen. “Do the horses like to be groomed?!”

“
Of course they like to be groomed.”

Cynthia stared at the horse brush and its extremely coarse bristles. “How do you know? It isn't as if you can ask them if they enjoy being brushed!”

“
They'll look better once you're done with them.” Robert opened one of the horse's stalls and motioned for her to go inside. “And they
do
enjoy being brushed. Everyone enjoys being brushed.”

“
Everyone?!” Cynthia repeated.

Robert shrugged. “Sure. Would you like me to brush your hair for you, Princess? You can see how you like it.”

Cynthia glared at him as she stepped into the stall. His company was already starting to vex her and they had only just begun! Robert returned his hands to his pockets as he walked away. Except it was more like
strutting
than walking—and he was whistling. He seemed to enjoy torturing her.

As Cynthia approached the horse, she studied Robert in the corner of her eye. He was feeding another horse on the opposite side of the stables, which meant he was too far away to carry on a conversation with her. Thank goodness for small miracles!

Cynthia brushed the horse's mane until she could run her fingers through it, then she moved to the next stall, where a proud mare with gentle eyes was waiting for her. She ran the brush along the bay's glistening coat, but she didn't brush too hard because she didn't want to hurt the animal. She didn't care what Robert said—the brush looked painful!

As time went on, the gap between Cynthia and Robert gradually narrowed. He was only two stalls away from her when he said, “I like your dress.”

“
My dress?!” Cynthia looked down at the ill-fitting monstrosity that Tess had given her. When she saw her bare ankles, she sighed. “It is much too large for me.”

“
I know,” Robert said with a snicker. “I was being sarcastic.”

“
And my ankles are exposed,” Cynthia complained. “I feel... naked.”

“
Bare ankles make you feel naked?!” When Robert started snickering again, Cynthia found herself resisting the temptation to wring his neck. “Well, don't worry... I promise I won't look at your naked ankles. I wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Cynthia knew he was teasing her, so she pouted. “I
am
uncomfortable! It isn't proper!”

Robert held a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “I know! It's shocking! I've never seen a naked ankle before! How am I ever supposed to reclaim my stolen innocence after witnessing such a thing?!”

“
You're insufferable!”

“
Good. I strive to be as insufferable as possible.”

“
Grrr
!” As she growled, she stomped to the next stall and started combing a black stallion, who nuzzled her with his snout when she approached.

“
I have another question,” Robert said.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. It was bad enough that she had to work; Robert's senseless, nonstop prattle was making the situation worse. “Dare I ask?”

“
I'm the one doing the asking, thank you very much,” Robert said. “I was just wondering about your age.”

“
My age?”

“
Yeah. How old are you? Twenty?”

“
One and twenty,” she corrected him.

“
One and twenty...” Robert scratched his chin as he repeated her answer. “So, why didn't you get married?”

“
Pardon?!” Cynthia stopped brushing the stallion and crossed her arms over her chest. “What a terribly inappropriate question! How dare you!”

“
Well, I'm just wonderin'... with you being an earl's daughter and all... why wouldn't you get married to some fancy lord and save yourself from this predicament?”

“
No one ever asked for my hand in marriage!”

“
And why not?” Robert shrugged. “You're sort of pretty.”

Cynthia peered over the stall so she could leer at him. “Actually, that is not entirely true.”

“
You're not pretty?” Robert asked with a grin.

“
No. I mean... someone
did
ask for my hand in marriage,” Cynthia explained. “My cousin, Roland, wanted to marry me. But I wouldn't sell myself like that!”

“
The new lord wanted to marry you, and you turned him down?!”

“
Right.” Cynthia nodded proudly, not regretting her decision in the slightest. “If I married him, I would doom myself to a lifetime of unhappiness. My freedom is most important to me.”

“
Well, it was your decision to make.”

“
You're right. It was.”

Under his breath, he added, “
as foolish as it might be
...”

Cynthia stopped brushing the stallion and exited the stall. Unfortunately, on the way out, her dress got caught on an enormous splinter. Then the stall closed, trapping more of the excess material in the door. Cynthia tried to pull herself free, but she was caught, and the more she struggled, the worse it got. She could hear the material ripping as the dress slipped from her shoulder.

“
Robert?” She hated to ask for his help, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. “Robert!”

“
Yes, Princess?”

“
Um... I think I might be stuck.”

“
You
think
you're stuck or you
are
stuck?”

“
I'm stuck!” Cynthia confirmed. “A little help, if you please?”

Robert strode toward her and observed the situation. When he recognized what was trapping her, he pushed open the stall door and rescued her from the splinter's clutches. “There,” he said. “Consider yourself saved.”

When he started to walk away, Cynthia followed him. “Why did you need to know my age?!” she snapped at him. “Why was that important? Do you think it is shameful to be one and twenty and unmarried?”

Robert answered her question with an indifferent shrug.

“
How old are
you
, Robert?!” Cynthia fired back. “You're not married, are you?!”

“
Five and twenty,” Robert replied. “But it's different for a man.” Before she could protest, he grabbed a shovel from the wall and held it out to her.