Courting Temptation: The House of Devon

by Mariel, Amanda

  “And why can’t you be together?” Mrs. Miller asked, her tone gentle.

  Tabby drug in a breath. “I am a maid, and he too serves in a house. Our positions would be at risk. There are other reasons too.” Tabby shook her head. “It just cannot work.”

  Mrs. Miller shook her head. “I daresay I hope those other reasons are good ones because if you try to deny your heart, you will indeed suffer. As will he if I have the right of it.”

  Tabby’s heart squeezed at Mrs. Miller’s pronouncement. She no more wanted to hurt Thomas than she wished to suffer herself. In fact, she would take on all of his hurts, all of his troubles, if she could. “They are the best of reasons.”

  Mrs. Miller gave a firm nod. “In that case, I would put distance between you and him. The less you see of each other, the easier it will be on you.” She gave a stern look, her eyes narrowing. “But I warn you, Tabby, one cannot refuse the heart. If your feelings are true…” she shook her head, “there is nothing, save for giving in to them and finding a way to be together, that will ease your suffering.”

  Tabby offered Mrs. Miller a weak smile, then said, “Thank you for listening. I will take your advice under consideration.”

  “I have no doubt.” Mrs. Miller stood. “Now if you will excuse me, my pot is calling.”

  Tabby nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  She felt no more at ease than she had before talking to Mrs. Miller. Still, she valued the older woman’s advice and was glad she had sought it. At the least, Mrs. Miller’s words gave her something to think about.

  The next time she saw Thomas, she would take action.

  Chapter 7

  Tabby did her best to avoid Thomas after speaking with Mrs. Miller, but still, he weighed heavily on her mind. She took her meals late and tried to keep close to other maids, so she was not alone when they crossed paths.

  Having determined a course, at last, she sent a note to him asking that he meet her on the rise. Now she stood upon the high ground gazing out at the lavender and bluebells cast in dim, cloud filtered light as she awaited his arrival. She prayed she had the strength and resolve to follow through with her plan.

  “Tabby,” he called out from the bottom of the rise.

  She turned to see him, and her heart crumbled at the look of joy and optimism plastered across his face. Could she truly do as she had planned? What if she found herself unable?

  No. She had to be strong—for both of them. She had to end this once and for all.

  Tabby straightened her back and schooled her features into a mask of indifference. When he reached her side, she turned her attention back to the rolling hills and fields. If she held his gaze, she would not be able to turn him away.

  “It thrilled me to receive your invitation. I’ve missed you, Tabby,” Thomas said as he reached for her hand.

  It killed her to do so, but she pulled away. “Do not be happy, Thomas. I asked you here so I could have a private word with you, but not for the reasons you suspect.”

  “What is the matter?” He asked, his tone uncertain, a little shaky.

  Her heart squeezed, but she pressed forward. “I find it difficult to be your friend, and I suspect you are suffering as well.”

  “Then you have changed your mind? You wish for me to court you?”

  Tabby shook her head. “No. I think it best if we avoid each other. At least to the extent we are able while working in the same house.”

  “Rubbish.” Thomas stepped around to face her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You are hurting the same as me.” He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “I can see it in your eyes. Hear it in your voice.”

  Tabby fought the urge to pull her gaze from his. “You are right, and I want the pain and awkwardness to stop. That is the reason for my insistence that we maintain a distance. I will not deny my feelings for you, but neither can we be together.”

  “I love you, Tabby.”

  Her resolve crumbled, tears pricking her eyes. “We cannot—”

  Thomas brought his lips to hers, and selfish as she was, Tabby kissed him back. She brought her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him. As their tongues meet, her knees weakened, and her heart thundered. Warmth spread through her.

  She should pull away, but she wanted this. One last kiss. A chance to say goodbye to Thomas and a memory to hold on to. Tears slid down her face as pain gripped her heart at the thought of goodbye.

  Thomas pulled back and brought his hand up to brush the moisture from her cheeks. “Do not cry, love. We can be together. It does not have to be this way.”

  Tabby shook her head, but she did not pull away from his touch this time. Instead, she held his gaze and willed herself to regain her composure. She blew out a breath, her eyes closing for a heartbeat, then said, “I am sorry. I should not have kissed you. We are ill-fated, Thomas. There is no future for us.” She pivoted and strode away.

  He caught her by the arm. “Tabby.”

  She spun on him. “Stop this. Stop hurting us worse. You have to let me go.”

  “Never. I cannot because I love you.” He dropped onto his knee and clasped her hand in his. “Tabby, marry me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as she gasped. “I cannot. We would lose our positions, the rent from my cottage, our futures would be ruined. I will not do that to you.”

  “My future will be ruined if you deny me. My heart will break, and the melancholy I have experienced these past weeks will enclose around me.” He stood and stared into her eyes. “I have no future without you at my side.”

  The tenderness of his words and love radiating from his gaze fractured her resolve. A fresh tear slid down her face as she asked, “How will we survive?”

  Thomas smiled. “You said will.”

  Tabby nodded.

  “Very well, then.” Thomas stood back up and captured her other hand so that he now held both as he stared into her unsure gaze. “We will find a way… together. I suspect the duke will allow us to stay on so long as we are able to complete our work. I will talk to him as soon as possible and let him know of our intentions. As long as we are both in his service, we can remain at Hartland Abbey. When we are ready to start a family, I will find us a home. I do not want to live in your cottage.”

  “Why ever not?” Tabby’s eyes widened.

  “Because it is yours, and you have plans regarding it.” He gave a tender smile. “I will take care of us, Tabby. If I must, I will find work in my off time from the abbey.”

  She shook her head. “If we are to marry, we will be a team. I will do my part. And I should not like to live apart, so we will move back to the cottage. If the duke no longer wants me as a retainer, I will take on odd jobs.”

  “Tabby—”

  “No,” she said. “I would not feel right if I put the full burden of our security on your shoulders. The cottage is my contribution, and any funds I raise through laundering and sewing will go to support us. I will not be swayed on this.”

  “Very well,” Thomas said as he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her thoroughly before releasing her. “Let us get back to the abbey so I may speak with His Grace.”

  Tabby nodded, a smile playing at her lips. When Thomas took her hand to lead her down the rise, the clouds parted, and bright sunlight filtered through, warming her as it brightened her soul. She did not know how they would manage, but at that moment, she knew all would work out.

  They would find a way to be together and sustain themselves.

  Chapter 8

  Thomas anxiously awaited permission to see the duke. He fiddled with his coat as he tried not to pace outside of the office door. When The Duke of Devon granted him entry, at last, he strode into the office and gave a deep bow.

  Thomas was confident that His Grace would not be angry, but he was not at all certain that both he and Tabby would be welcome to remain in the duke’s employee. He feared Tabby would change her mind if the duke did not allow them both to stay on.

&n
bsp; He prayed it would not come to that as he straightened, and his gaze met The Duke of Devon’s. Even if it did, Thomas would find a way to keep her and a way to support her. He loved Tabby with everything he was and could not let her go.

  His Grace studied him for a long moment, then said, “You appear nervous, Thomas. Whatever is the matter?”

  “I am, but not because something is wrong.” Thomas swallowed as he attempted to organize his thoughts. “Everything is right, save for one thing.”

  “Out with it then,” the duke commanded.

  “I wish to marry, Your Grace.”

  “Ah.” The duke steepled his fingers as he studied Thomas. “And who is the lucky lady?”

  “Miss Tabitha Gale.” Thomas could not help but smile as he said her name.

  The duke grinned. “My duchess will be pleased. She has a soft spot for the girl.”

  “Then, we have your blessing?” Thomas asked, his tone dripping with relief and joy. “And we may stay on at Hartland Abbey? We very much wish to remain—” He pressed his lips together to quiet himself. He should not be so presumptions and forward with his employer.

  “Sit, Thomas.” The duke stared at him, his gaze giving nothing away.

  Thomas swallowed hard as he took the chair opposite the duke’s sprawling desk. Anxiety pricked at him, causing his heart to race and his palms to sweat. He’d stepped in it, and now the duke was angry. Would he dismiss Thomas and Tabby as a result? Would Tabby forgive him if he had just cost them both their positions?

  “You have my blessing, but there is something else I wish to discuss with you.” The duke relaxed back in his leather chair. “You are welcome to keep your positions.”

  Thomas released a pent up breath and said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “There is more.” The duke arched a brow. “If you have the patience to listen.”

  “Yes, of course. That is, of course, I wish to hear all you ahem to say, Your Grace.” Thomas drew in a calming breath. “I am sorry.”

  The duke waved a dismissive hand. “No worries. I well recall the excitement and worry that love and marriage brings. To that end, I wish to ease your way.”

  Thomas bit back the words of surprise and thanks that rose to his tongue. He had no wish to upset the duke with another outburst. Instead, he gave a small nod.

  The duke continued, “As it happens, my head gamekeeper wishes to retire. I have a shortlist of those I was considering to replace him, and you are on it. I was also considering his assistants for the role, but Mr. Hedgeforth informed me he accepted a position at a nearby estate and will depart the abbey next week. Mr. Longton is ill-prepared for the role, so I have scratched him from the list. Doing so left only you on my list.”

  The duke smiled as he leaned closer, resting his hands on his desk.

  Thomas could scarcely believe what the duke was saying. Had he heard, right? Did the duke wish to elevate him?

  “I had intended to call you in after meeting with my Stewart, but as you are already here, I would like to offer you the position. It comes with your own cottage on the estate, two maids should you wish to have them, and seventy guineas a year.”

  Thomas opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. The duke’s offer and his faith in Thomas overwhelmed him. He wanted to jump for joy and hug the duke, but knew it would be untoward to do so.

  The duke arched a brow. “You may speak now.”

  “Thank you. That is most generous, Your Grace.” Thomas beamed, relief, and overwhelming happiness lightening his heart. “You will not be sorry.”

  The duke returned his smile, then stood.

  Thomas did the same, coming to his feet.

  “You start tomorrow morning. Take the rest of today off, then report to the gamekeeper at first light. He will provide you with training before he leaves at months end.” The duke reached out his hand. “As for Miss Gale, she may remain on as a maid if she chooses, but no one, least of all the duchess and I, will not fault her if she wishes to leave her post.”

  Thomas hesitated for a moment before he took, and they shook. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The duke released his hand and nodded toward the door. “Now go share the good news with your lady,” he said.

  Thomas nodded, then bowed, then said, “Thank you,” again. He could not believe the duke had just promoted him. Had given him and Tabby his blessing and secured their future. It would delight her, to be sure.

  He backed toward the door, then gave a final bow before leaving the office.

  Thomas found Tabby below stairs. She had her head bent over a sewing needle when he approached. “Tabby,” he said, “I have come from speaking with the duke.”

  She glanced up, a smile transforming her expression from one of concentration to one of happiness. Setting the needle and cloth aside, she gave him her full attention. “What did he say? Do we have his blessing?”

  “That, and so much more. Tabby, he promoted me to head gamekeeper!” Thomas pulled her to her feet. “He said you can keep your position if you wish to, but that he and the duchess would not be upset if you left your post.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why would I do that? How would we survive? Where would we live?”

  He kissed her into silence before saying, “The position comes with our own cottage on the estate as well as a hefty annual salary of three times what I now earn. We are to have our own maids as well.”

  “Truly?” Tabby asked, her blue eyes sparkling.

  Thomas gave a nod of confirmation. “We can marry whenever you like and start our family whenever it suits you, love.”

  “Oh, Thomas.” Tabby tossed herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

  His heart filled with elation as he hugged her back. “I love you, Miss Tabitha Gale, and cannot wait for the day I make you mine.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. “I am already yours, Thomas. I love you.”

  And he knew she did, just the same as he knew they would spend the rest of their years together. She was his home, his heart, his forever and always.

  No matter what life brought their way, the two of them would hold hands and love each other through it. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then asked, “When would you like to marry?”

  “As soon as we can manage.” She smiled. “I am very much in want of sharing my life with you.”

  “And so you shall.” Thomas swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Let us go and share our joyous news.”

  She laughed, her merriment spreading through him as he strode toward the kitchen, cradling her close.

  Excerpt

  Read on for an excerpt from Tempting the Footman by Lauren Smith

  Chapter 1

  London—October 1818

  “What you need, my dear, is a trip to the country.”

  Venetia Dunham lay stretched out on a chaise, a Gothic novel abandoned in her lap as she stared up at the intricate crown molding of the ceiling in her Mayfair townhouse. She lowered her gaze to the speaker, her grandmother, Gwendolyn Dunham, the Dowager Countess of Latham.

  She was Gran to Venetia, but Gwen or Lady Latham to everyone else. The old woman looked frail only because of her delicate bones and the walking cane she was never without. But anyone with even a passing relationship with the dowager countess knew that those bones encased a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit, and the cane was more of a weapon than a crutch, as many young men of the ton would attest to.

  She was Venetia’s constant companion, the salve to her aching heart when her mother died, and her delightful mentor and dear friend in the eleven years since. Though they were of different generations, Venetia and her gran had a bond that could not be shaken.

  “I mean it, Venetia. It has been a year since Andrew passed. We’re both out of mourning, and we need to escape that buffoon who has claimed his title. There are only so many things one can bear, and poor company is by far the worst.” Gwen sat with her back straight, her mouth twisted in a sligh
t scowl. Her words held a cutting edge that bore a mix of impatience and sadness at the dreadful situation they found themselves in.

  Venetia smiled a little at Gran’s reference to her cousin, Patrick, who had become the new Earl of Latham. When Venetia’s father had passed suddenly, she and Gran had become the unexpected guests to her late uncle’s son as he took over their townhouse as the new owner.

  Gran, who hadn’t seen Patrick since he was a boy, had spent five minutes alone with him after the funeral and had declared him to be a cad. Now, a year later, Venetia and Gran were living with him and the situation was quite unbearable.

  “If I have to hear any more about his plans to renovate the townhouse, I shall perish on the spot. A cardroom to replace the drawing room? Does the fool plan to run a gambling hell?” Gwen rapped her cane’s metal tip hard into the rug.

  “I think you’re right, Gran,” Venetia said gently. “We must go to the country, but Patrick sold Papa’s country house.” That particular sale had been most injurious to Venetia. Her father had left a vast bit of money in Venetia’s possession under a trust managed by an old friend of her father’s, but the townhouse and the country estate, Latham House, were firmly in Patrick’s control. The loss of the money had infuriated her cousin, but he’d held his temper in check. Venetia was relieved that marriage between first cousins wasn’t allowed, or else she would have been worried that Patrick would try to force a marriage simply to obtain her fortune. And marriage was the very last thing Venetia wanted.

  “One does not need to own a country house to visit the country.” Gwen removed a small folded letter from a pocket hidden in her skirts and waved it with a triumphant smile.

  Venetia sat up and set her book aside. “What is that?”

  “Our escape, my dear. It’s a letter from Marrian Hampton.” Gwen passed her the letter.