The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret (13 page)

‘But he mustn’t come here. Ross mustn’t know. I’m sure he blames Antony for what happened—and he’s right, it was Antony’s fault. But I know Ross. If he knew how much I have suffered because of Antony’s betrayal, he’d probably call him out. You can’t imagine how awesome he is when he’s angry.’

‘Then perhaps you should think again before you write to Lord Bennington. Although, if you don’t, he might think you don’t care for him, after all, and return to Cambridgeshire.’

With that motivation, Araminta allowed Lisette to coax her out of her finery and into her nightdress and brush her hair, as she did every night, looking compassionately now and then into the pensive face in the mirror. She talked to her soothingly, saying anything that came into her head. Her voice was dreamlike to Araminta, giving the impression that she was in some vague, slightly unreal world of hopeless and despairing resignation and yet behind her blank face her mind was slithering like a duck on a frozen pond as she tried to formulate a plan to get Antony back.

Chapter Five

W
hen Lisette finally left Araminta tucked up in bed mentally wording a note to Antony Bennington, she felt restless and confused following her encounter with Colonel Montague, so she went down to the kitchen for a cup of hot milk before seeking her own bed. It was relatively quiet with just the odd footman and maid passing in and out as they finished their duties for the night. They all had an early start.

Will Blackstock was in the servants’ hall in conversation with Smithins, who sniffed and left when Lisette entered. After warming some milk on the stove she sat at the table with Will. She got on with Will—mainly because they had both spent time in India and always had plenty to talk about. He talked as he worked, rubbing the brass buttons on one of the colonel’s military coats.

Fair-haired and cheekily attractive, he was a firm favourite with everybody. With his ready smile, sharp wit and the tales he told of his travels in India he had everyone enthralled. His devotion and loyalty to Colonel Montague was never in doubt, and he had a definite twinkle in his brown eyes whenever they lighted on Daisy, a pretty young housemaid.

Will and Lisette chatted amiably as she drank her milk, discussing the menus for the following day and the chickens which the kitchen staff had dressed earlier and were now residing in the larder awaiting Monsieur André’s expertise to turn them into something quite delicious.

‘Do you recall the markets in India,’ Will said, ‘when the livestock were brought in from the countryside—how the chickens were kept in cages and weren’t killed until they were sold?’

‘I do—very well—and the ducks and geese. Mother was always very good at bartering and invariably got them at a knock-down price.’

‘How very primitive,’ Nancy interrupted. There was a note of scorn in her voice. She saw Lisette as something of an upstart and was jealous of the attention Will paid to her.

Lisette looked at her. ‘It’s just a different way of life, Nancy.’

‘A way of life that would not appeal to me. Nor could I understand it.’

‘A person is always better off for understanding something,’ Lisette pointed out calmly. ‘In my imagination life as it is in India will go on indefinitely.’

‘In your imagination, water could go uphill and cats speak French,’ Nancy retorted, and with a toss of her head she flounced away in a huff.

Lisette shot Will an amused, conspiratorial glance. ‘Oh, dear,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t think I’m one of Nancy’s favourite people.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ Will remarked. ‘Mrs Stratton set her on after Christmas but she’s too haughty for her own good that one—and lazy. If she doesn’t start pulling her weight, you mark my words—she’ll be out on her ear before much longer.’

Mrs Stratton walked in followed by Lumsden.

‘Good evening, Blackstock—Miss Napier,’ Lumsden said, his manner precise as always. Taking out his watch attached by a fob to his waistcoat he checked on the time. ‘Mrs Stratton and I are to share a nightcap before I check to make sure that everything is locked up.’

‘I’ll just get some hot water from the kettle,’ Mrs Stratton said, disappearing into the kitchen where André, always considerate to her needs, had left provisions for her late-night beverage. ‘Have your usual tipple by all means, Mr Lumsden, but I’ll settle for a cup of tea tonight.’

Having witnessed the brief show of intimacy between Lisette and Colonel Montague on the day following their arrival at Castonbury, Lisette was relieved that Mrs Stratton had made no comment on the incident. However, she was under no illusion that it had been forgotten and that from that moment her behaviour would be under the closest scrutiny.

Lisette liked Mrs Stratton. Her voice did not hold the superior tone one would expect of the housekeeper of such a large and noble establishment. She was a widow with one son, Adam. The last time he’d come home to Castonbury to see his mother it was to tell her that he’d left the navy and was to try his hand at business. Mrs Stratton had been horrified to learn that he’d given up a promising career. Disappointed by his mother’s reaction, Adam had stormed off, vowing he would not return until he had made his fortune. Mrs Stratton was saddened that he had not been in contact since then, but she concealed it beneath her quiet demeanour.

‘I trust you haven’t forgotten that in the morning we are to make an inspection of the guest rooms, Mrs Stratton,’ Lumsden said when she reappeared carrying a small teapot. ‘It’s so long since they were in use that we must make an inventory of things to be done to make them suitable for occupation.’

‘Of course not. I made a note of it earlier—ten o’clock, I believe we said. And we must remember that should a certain lady arrive sometime in the future, there is a child to consider, so I think we should take a look at the nurseries.’

It was a topic much discussed with all parties taking sides. Only Lisette said nothing, which was not unusual. No one asked her opinion directly but as Miss Araminta’s personal maid they believed she was privy to all the information they craved. Lisette knew no more than they did about this mysterious woman Lord Jamie was supposed to have married, but if she did she would remain silent out of loyalty to her mistress.

‘If the rumour about the woman is true,’ Nancy said, suddenly flouncing into the kitchen and almost bumping into Mrs Stratton, ‘then what can he have been thinking of to marry a woman no one has seen? The duke’s heir at that.’

‘Well, I am inclined to sympathise with the young woman,’ Mrs Stratton said, ‘since I, too, was widowed and left with a child to care for. If she is indeed Lord Jamie’s wife, then the child will be the duke’s heir and it is only right that he is treated as such and comes to Castonbury. She must be given the shelter of this house. Now come along, Mr Lumsden. My tea is getting cold.’

* * *

Bidding goodnight to Will and Nancy, Lisette sought her bed but she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about her meeting with Colonel Montague. He commanded her attention, filled her thoughts, almost to the exclusion of all else. His attitude, his appearance, his movements, that dangerous velvety voice—all reeked of seduction.

She told herself it meant nothing, that she shouldn’t make too much of it, that it could simply be that he’d found nothing more scintillating at Castonbury, no lady more enticing, with whom to spend his time. Yet her heart leapt one notch, one rung higher up the ladder of irrational hope, every time he appeared in Araminta’s room. When she finally succumbed to sleep he even followed her into her dreams.

* * *

Entering her mistress’s room the following morning Lisette wasn’t really surprised to see her seated at her escritoire penning a note to Lord Bennington. The housemaid whose business it was to make the fire was on her way out. On seeing Lisette, Araminta got up, having folded and sealed the note.

‘I want you to do something for me, Lisette,’ she said, handing her the note. ‘I’ve written to Antony and would like you to take this letter and give it to one of the grooms. Ask him to ride to Glebe Hall which is outside Hatherton. He is to deliver it in person to Lord Bennington and wait for a reply.’

Against her better judgement, Lisette did as her mistress asked, but she could not quell the apprehension that gripped her or the feeling that she was colluding in something that would come to no good.

Returning to her mistress’s rooms to inform her that she had done as she had instructed, her heart did a somersault when Colonel Montague strolled in every bit as handsome and imposing in his dark, brooding way as she remembered.

Lisette was putting away the brushes, the comb, the curl papers and ribbons which littered the surface of the vanity. The smile on Colonel Montague’s face, curving those firm, fascinating lips, was more than enough to make her drop the comb. A blush came quickly to her cheeks, mounting high as she experienced the sensation of being stripped naked by his bright blue gaze. Picking up the comb she inwardly swore that she would not give him the pleasure of knowing how flustered she felt.

His broad shoulders were encased in a brown hacking jacket and his calves in shiny black boots. Taking an arrogant stance against the hearth, one hand resting on the mantel, in daylight his features were as hard edged as they had been last night. He watched her go about her chores with lazy interest, his predator’s smile still in place.

But no matter how many distractions Lisette heaped on Ross, he was not immune to the change in Araminta this morning. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes overbright, and as he listened to her extol the equestrian merits of the locality, she seemed jumpy and apprehensive and avoided meeting his eyes. He frowned with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

‘You do not seem yourself this morning, Araminta. Are you feeling unwell?’

Araminta glanced almost nervously across the room at Lisette and then back to her brother. She laughed a little nervously. ‘I confess I have a headache—probably too much wine at the assembly. A good gallop is just what I need to take it away. I’ll go and see if Phaedra would like to accompany us,’ she said, crossing quickly to the door. ‘She’ll be most put out if she knows we’ve gone riding without her.’

When she’d gone Ross looked at Lisette, a concerned frown etched on his brow. She bustled about, dropping objects onto the dressing table and floor—a sure sign the nervous maid was in a taking over something.

‘What is wrong with Araminta? It is clear that she is not herself this morning. Has something happened that I should know about?’

‘As she said—too much wine at the assembly,’ Lisette replied. His eyes were probing hers, looking for answers. She bent her head over her task lest he saw the anxiety in her eyes.

‘As I recall she came home early from the Assembly Rooms. You would tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, Miss Napier? My sister is wilful, her conduct sometimes borders on inappropriate. It seems a weakness of hers to get into scrapes. If she is up to something you can be certain it will be something foolish and outrageous, so I would like to know about it before it happens.’

‘It is not my place. I am here to see to the needs of Miss Araminta, not to divulge her confidences—if she had any, that is.’

‘Is she up to something?’

Lisette looked at him direct. ‘Colonel Montague, when you employed me you asked for my discretion and my loyalty. I will not talk to you about Miss Araminta.’

‘Even though it is my wish?’

‘Even so.’

‘That is a shame. I have the greatest reliance on your judgement.’

‘Then you are to be disappointed. You must forgive me if I tell you I have nothing to say to you on this matter.’

‘And you are the most wilful woman I have ever met, Miss Napier.’

Ross relinquished his stance and moved to the vanity where Lisette was placing things tidily in the drawers. He stood behind her, his silence more eloquent, more powerful, more successful in impinging on her senses than Araminta’s garrulous chatter. She didn’t know why she felt apprehensive at his attention, for after his sister’s warning not to take men’s admiration too seriously, she would like to simply smile and accept any compliments they paid her. But Colonel Montague was a man who could not be ignored.

‘Be assured that if there is anything wrong with my sister, I shall find out.’ She looked at him before turning her head and lowering her eyes so she would not have to look at his penetrating eyes. His firm lips curved in a slight smile. ‘I enjoyed our conversation last night, Miss Napier,’ he said on a softer note, raising a hand and gently tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, ‘and I can’t tell you what a pleasure it would give me to invite you to ride with us this morning.’

Lisette stilled, shocked, then raised her head. ‘Don’t do that!’ A warm glow suffused the area he’d touched.

‘You’re frowning—you look cross.’

Drawing herself up and taking a step back, she turned and fixed him with a censorious look. ‘That’s because I am cross. I must insist that you refrain from speaking to me unless it concerns Miss Araminta.’

Inwardly Ross stilled. He looked down into her disapproving eyes, distracted by myriad emotions playing in her expressive eyes. ‘Why? Do you not feel comfortable when you are with me?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Are we talking about the feelings that I arouse in you, Miss Napier? Come, tell me. I am all eager attention.’

‘If you must know, then yes, that is exactly what I mean.’

Suppressing his urge to smile, Ross smoothed his expression into an admirable imitation of earnest gravity. ‘Oh, dear—that bad.’

Her eyes searched his, then her lips compressed. ‘Last night I should have left the stables when you arrived. There must be no more conversations between us like that. I have no desire to bring censure down on myself. People will gossip and, should it reach Mrs Landes-Fraser, I will be dismissed.’

‘Heaven forbid it would go that far. I apologise if my attention offended you, but I did not force you to yield to me when I kissed you.’

No, Lisette thought. In all fairness he hadn’t. It was as if some spell had been cast over her and she had wantonly, willingly joined in her own seduction.

‘Let us assume I am not your employer,’ Ross said, his voice soft and provocative, his eyes preoccupied with her rosy lips. ‘How would you react to my advances then, Miss Napier? Would you fall into my arms and allow me to kiss you to distraction?’

Her delicate brows drew together and amusement teased the corners of her generous mouth as she surveyed him, considering her answer. ‘Based on what I already know of you, I might very well be tempted,’ she confessed, unable to deny the truth since he seemed to know her thoughts so well. ‘But the fact remains that you
are
my employer and that is the trouble.’

‘And I feel compelled to point out that an employee should never contradict her employer.’

‘Whenever I find myself in your company you forget yourself. Is your lofty rank supposed to intimidate me, Colonel?’ she asked in her quiet voice, a surprising hint of anger in it that Ross had never heard before. ‘Because if so, then you are mistaken. I am the daughter of a gentleman, and my parents brought me up decently.’