The Touch of the Outcast_A Gothic Mystery Romance

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The Touch of the Outcast_A Gothic Mystery Romance Page 4

by Amalia Altman


  Nikola shot her a stern look. “You’re a young girl. I understand you’re curious. But it’s best not to ask too many questions in this place. Keep that in mind.”

  Elise swallowed, nodding. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s fine. It’s only natural. But you’ll do best to listen to me,” Nikola said.

  When Elise was finished eating, she stood up.

  “Is there anywhere in particular that I should start?” Elise asked.

  “You’ll start in the rooms on the first floor while Lord Ashton has breakfast in the dining room. When he’s finished, you may clean the dining room and the kitchen.”

  “When do I do Lord Ashton’s office?” Nikola said.

  “In the afternoon sometime. You’ll go up and knock on his door. He’ll usually leave while you tidy up.”

  “I see,” said Elise, feeling that twinge of disappointment again. It truly did sound like there was no way that she was going to run into Lord Ashton at all, other than to ask him to leave the room while she cleaned. Still, there were plenty of other mysteries to solve in the house, other things to explore as she worked today. She was almost excited as she began cleaning the rooms on the first floor, getting into a rhythm while she dusted, swept the wooden floors, and turned the beds over.

  Elise went through the rooms, checking the clock occasionally. It seemed to take her hours to finish, and by the time she was done with the first floor bedrooms, she was sweating, her hair curling up wildly around her face no matter how she tried to push it back. She stopped for a moment, leaning up against the wall. She hadn’t realized how much work it would be just to clean the bedrooms, and she knew she was in for a lot more work where that came from. It was good for her, though, and definitely preferable to the kind of work she would have to do at the brothel if she had stayed for much longer.

  When she was finished with the kitchen and the dining room, Elise started up the stairs to the second floor. She went into the first bedroom, sighing when she saw that the duvet was the thick kind, one that was almost too heavy for her to lift and fold. She did it anyway, forcing herself to get through the task. She knew that all of this work would get easier soon and she was grateful to have it, no matter how hard it felt in the moment.

  Elise was sweeping the floor when she heard a noise coming from the third floor, a tapping on the ceiling just above her head. She looked up and heard it again. It sounded like wood against wood, and every time it hit, it would give three rapid taps before stopping for a few seconds, then resuming again. Elise strained to listen more closely and heard a voice—a man’s voice—soft but insistent upstairs. She couldn’t hear the words he was saying through the sound of the tapping, and Elise was glad when it stopped. The man’s voice got louder, though Elise could only hear one, and she shivered when she realized she was listening to someone talk to himself in a voice that sounded angry and bitter. Elise looked around, then climbed up on the bed to try to get closer to the ceiling.

  “Feeding me rats,” she heard the man mumble upstairs. “Thinks he’s getting away with it… that ungrateful bastard…”

  Elise didn’t understand the words she was hearing. They were coming out in snippets, as if he was raising and lowering his voice in conversation with himself. The tapping started again, startling Elise so badly that she nearly fell off of the bed. The voice stopped and she climbed down, looking up at the ceiling, wondering again what was going on. Curiosity was burning within her, and she found herself leaving the room, tiptoeing down the hallway toward the large marble staircase that led to the third floor. She looked over her shoulder, making sure that nobody was watching, then started up the stairs, walking slowly on quiet feet.

  Elise let out a soft shriek when someone grabbed her from behind, a hand firm on her arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  She looked over her shoulder, turning on the stairs to see Lord Ashton just a step below her, his eyes on her face.

  “Tell me what you are doing, Elise,” he said.

  “I heard a noise,” Elise said to him. “Someone talking. I thought—I thought it might be you.”

  He stared at her.

  “I talked to Nikola yesterday, and she told me that she gave you one specific instruction about the third floor. Do you remember what it was?”

  Elise gritted her teeth, annoyed at his tone of voice.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “What was it?” he asked.

  “She said not to go on the third floor. But— “

  “But you decided you wanted to anyway,” he said. Elise looked at him, refusing to look bashful or ashamed for her curiosity. He held her eye, his gaze burning into hers, obviously angry and yet just as curious as she was.

  “Yes,” Elise said. She realized only then how close they were standing, how their faces were nearly level with him standing just a step below her. She could look straight and gaze into his eyes, and she found herself doing just that, unable to look away.

  “Listen to me, Elise,” he said seriously. “I need you to do as we ask while you’re working in this house.”

  “Or else what?” Elise asked. She didn’t know why she was being so bold, especially when he’d already threatened once to send her back to the brothel. There was something about the Lord of Rockford that affected Elise in a way that she didn’t like, made her lose control of her mouth and the feelings within her body.

  Elise was glad when his lips twitched into a smile rather than a look of anger.

  “I’m sure I could come up with some suitable punishment,” he said.

  She stared at him, unable to reply to that.

  “You’d better get back to work,” he said softly after what seemed like a long moment of silence. “And do not try to get on the third floor again.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Elise, walking back down the stairs to the second floor. Lord Ashton went back to his office while Elise continued to clean the room. She listened for any noises upstairs but heard nothing, not even the soft sound of a voice.

  Elise went downstairs after she had finished cleaning the rooms. It was dark outside, and she had been working for nearly twelve hours just to finish her duties. Her body felt worn out and ragged, and Elise was relieved when she went into the kitchen to see that there was food still set out for her, knowing that everybody had eaten sometime before. She was eating when Nikola came into the kitchen.

  “Nikola, did you knock on my door last night?” Elise asked. It was a question that had been gnawing at her since she’d seen Lord Ashton, and she wished she had asked him as well.

  “No,” said Nikola. “I fell asleep right away. I didn’t hear any knocking, but I’m half deaf. Why?”

  “Someone knocked on my door last night,” Elise said. “I was just wondering if it was you.”

  Nikola stared at Elise in a way that made her almost uncomfortable.

  “Did you answer the door?” the older woman asked.

  “Yes, but I didn’t see anyone,” said Elise. “I was wondering if maybe it was Lord Ashton— “

  “It wasn’t,” said Nikola. “And next time that happens, whatever you do, do not answer the door. I should have told you that last night.”

  “Who is it?” Elise asked, but Nikola didn’t answer the question. Elise found herself frustrated as the housekeeper went up to bed. It seemed like no matter what she did, she raised more questions than were answered for her. But Elise was determined to get to the bottom of this place, to figure out the mystery of the manor and hopefully of the lord who ruled it.

  Chapter 5

  Julian sat in his office, his feet propped up on the desk as he stared at the ceiling. It had been two days and his mind was still full of the girl, the maid, the one who had been willful and belligerent at every turn. Her unruliness was irritating, yet fascinating at the same time. The fact that she was willing to talk to him in a way that nobody else had—she didn’t seem to care th
at he was a lord. She didn’t think he was above her in any way despite the fact that she was merely a maid he had found in a brothel, a girl who had been found on the streets before that. It fascinated Julian and held him captive, and the need to talk to her was growing increasingly powerful.

  He sighed, putting his feet down and running his hand through his wavy hair. He stood up, making his decision—it wouldn’t be out of place for him to simply ask how the girl was settling into his home.

  Julian found Elise in one of the rooms on the second floor. He pushed the door open, watching her from the doorway. Her back was turned to him as she dusted the windows, and Julian couldn’t help but to let his eyes wander over her backside, the way her slim waist fanned out at the hips and her long legs. His eyes lingered on her, on the pale skin at the back of her neck. Her long red hair was in a braid over her shoulder, and the lacing of her dress was loose, separated slightly in the center so that he could see a sliver of the curve of her spine. For some reason, the sight of that was decadent to Julian, who remembered touching her briefly back at the brothel.

  “Were you watching me, my lord?” she asked. Julian felt himself smiling at the look on her face, the slight part of her soft pink lips when she looked at him.

  “I was just seeing how you were doing in here,” Julian said.

  “Making sure I’m minding my own business?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “That too.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, and for a second so many things flashed through his mind, so many ways in which just being close to Elise would bring him pleasure.

  “I’d like you to take a break from cleaning rooms and come with me,” Julian said. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him suspiciously.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I said so,” he said, an edge to his voice. He was not surprised when she scoffed, turning back to dust the blinds. Julian had the strong urge to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her away from them, to make her face him so that he could study her features for as long as he wanted.

  “Elise,” he said.

  She turned around again, her head tilted to the side.

  “Please,” Julian said.

  She gave a satisfied smile. “Where are we going, my lord?”

  “I want to show you the grounds,” Julian said. It was something that had just come to him, something he hoped hadn’t already been done. It was the perfect excuse to ask her some questions about herself, to learn more about the fiery girl who was learning to press every button in his body in such a short amount of time.

  “Alone?” she asked.

  “Does that frighten you?” Julian asked her, studying her face for a response.

  “Should it?”

  Julian didn’t answer her. He didn’t have an answer for her. Instead, he gestured out the door.

  “We’ll start in the gardens. Have you been out there yet?”

  “No,” she said. “I haven’t had the time.”

  Julian frowned. “You get a day and a half off every week,” he said to her. “What have you been doing?”

  “I—I didn’t know we could take time off,” she said as they walked outside a door at the back of the mansion, emerging onto the lush green lawn.

  “Of course you can take time off,” Julian said.

  “I see,” she said. “Thank you, my lord.”

  “I would never work my servants seven days a week,” Julian said. “It’s cruel. I’ll let you go for the holidays as well, if you’d like. You can go back and see your family.”

  Julian noticed that she looked away from him as they walked.

  “I don’t have a family,” she said. “Not anymore. But that is kind of you.”

  “What happened to your family?” Julian asked her, curious. She gave him a look that he couldn’t quite read, and for a moment he was afraid that she would tell him off for being too forward.

  “I just don’t speak to them,” she said. “Not since I moved to London.”

  “When did you move here?” Julian asked.

  “Only two weeks ago.”

  “Did you have family here? Someone to stay with?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know anybody before coming to London.”

  “Madam Svarosky said she found you on the streets,” Julian said gently. “How did that happen?”

  Elise looked over at him, meeting his eye.

  “Bad fortune,” she said, then let her voice trail off, not elaborating any further.

  “I see,” said Julian. “At least your fortune turned around, then.”

  “Did it?” she asked, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “I ended up in this dreary old place with a master who is hard and unrelenting.”

  Julian had to laugh. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “That’s what I think of you,” she said, though there was a playfulness in her eyes that made something stir in his body. Julian fought to ignore it, not wanting to react too obviously as they entered the entered the hedge maze that lead to the garden. She looked around in wonder as they walked through the maze, looking up at the tops of the bushes, which stretched up about eight feet high. The maze had been put in by Julian’s great-grandfather and had been his pride and joy. Julian rarely spent any time in it anymore, but he knew his way through it by heart, and they followed the path, walking slowly next to each other.

  “Why did you choose the brothel to find your maid, my lord?” Elise asked, gazing at his face instead of at the greenery as they walked. “Did you—I want you to know that I’m not a whore. I don’t intend—I don’t intend to warm your bed for you.”

  “I would never ask you to do that,” Julian said, although tempting images flitted through his mind when she said the words. “I went to the brothel because I like the girls there.”

  “I know how much you like the girls there,” she said dryly.

  “So you’ve heard the rumors,” Julian said. He fought back a smile. He knew what the rumors were at the brothel, how he liked to use his mouth on the girls. The truth was, the only reason he told them not to tell the others what he did with the women he took out was because most of the time he didn’t touch them at all, only took them out into the city as company. Every once in a while, he would find a woman, such as Veronica, who gave him an appetite, but rarely did he ever do half the things the women at the brothel seemed to think he did.

  Elise blushed when he brought up the rumors, her face turning pink in embarrassment. Julian had trouble keeping his eyes off of her, even as they stepped out of the maze and into the beautiful, expansive garden. She paused just outside the maze as she looked around in wonder, drinking in the sight of the brightly-colored vegetables and flowers of every kind. It was gorgeous, a stunning sight, yet the vision of Elise’s red hair in the sun, the copper freckles on her pale skin, was a sight that Julian found at least as breathtaking as the flowers around them.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, looking up at him with awe in her pretty eyes.

  “It is,” he said, nodding as they stepped into the garden. He watched her kneel down, looking more closely at a patch of delicate cornflower blue flowers, no bigger than the size of Julian’s thumbnail. She touched them softly with the tips of her fingers, feeling the silk of the petals, and Julian delighted in watching her as she looked all around.

  “Do you spend much time out here, my lord?” Elise asked.

  “Sometimes,” Julian said. “At night, mostly. When I know that Thomas is in bed.”

  “The gardener?”

  “Yes,” Julian said. “When I don’t want to run into him, I come out here at night.”

  “I thought he was a nice fellow,” Elise said. “You seem awful keen to avoid him.”

  “I’d prefer to be alone in the garden,” Julian told her. She gazed up at him through her long lashes.

  “Would you li
ke me to go inside?” she asked.

  “No,” he said hurriedly. “I just mean that sometimes at night, when I want it to be quiet, I come out here.”

  “It’s quiet in the mansion, my lord,” she pointed out. “I’ve never heard a peep out of anybody.”

  “It’s a different kind of silence,” Julian said. “This one is less suffocating.”

  “I see,” she said, studying his face. They were standing close together in the garden, having stopped to linger in a space where the path narrowed considerably. Julian didn’t realize how close they were until his hand brushed her arm when he lifted it. She met his eye, holding it, and he couldn’t help but to let his gaze drop to her full mouth for an instant, just long enough to wonder what she tasted like. His eyes lingered for only an instant before dropping down to look at the soft skin of her neck. Julian had never touched her skin before, though every time he had seen her he’d been tempted to do so. He was even more tempted to do so right now, and found himself lifting his hand to touch her face before he thought better of it and dropped it to his side, shaking his head.

  “Do you want to see the stables?” he asked her. Her face lit up with excitement then, pure joy on her features. She was radiant that way, and Julian actually felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of her. It bothered him, yet at the same time, the discomfort was worth it to see her smile like that.

  “Yes,” she breathed, clasping her hands together.

  “You like horses?” he asked her as they began to walk toward the stables. She nodded.

  “I had no idea you had stables,” she said. “I would have probably snuck out here the first night.”

  “You can come out as often as you’d like once you finish working,” Julian told her, glad that she had something here that would make her so happy. “Did you grow up around horses?”

  “We always had horses at home,” she told him, speeding up a little bit once they got within sight of the stables. “I used to ride every day before I came to London.”

  Julian opened the door for her as soon as they got into the stables and nodded at Tom, the stable hand.

 

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