My hands were cold, and I could feel my heartbeat pulsing in my throat.
Their words were slightly muffled but still discernible with the door open. Of their own accord, my feet moved down the corridor, closer to the conversation that no doubt would carve a new wound in my heart.
“Why would he continue to visit if he didn’t have feelings for me? It wasn’t my imagination, was it, Mother? His interest was clear. He even brought his mother to visit.”
“What did he say, dear?” Lady Mantock asked gently.
Aveline gave another sob. “He came to say goodbye, said his honor demanded that he dissuade me from any feelings for him because he . . . he . . . he has already promised himself to another!”
She dissolved into hysterics, and I backed away, my feet shuffling backward as my breathing labored under the weight that had settled in my chest. I stumbled back into Lady Mantock’s sitting room, leaning against the wall as I blinked back my emotion and tried to make sense of what I had overheard.
Rylan was no longer courting Miss Aveline. Rylan was promised to another. I wondered who the young lady was, then shook my head, reprimanding myself for caring. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t let it matter. He had hurt Aveline. I would not give in and let him hurt me as well.
I pounded a fist into the wall behind me, cursing myself for caring about him after everything that had happened. Even after the past two months, my mind was still trying to conjure excuses for him.
Aveline’s continued sobs filtered down the hall, and I remembered Rylan’s insistence that there was nothing romantic about his walks with Aveline. I shook my head in disgust. Of course there wouldn’t be if he’d been planning to declare himself to some other lady. How dare he use Aveline that way. How dare he use any of them!
The sharp clicking of boot heels interrupted my thoughts. I stepped away from the wall, afraid to be caught lazing about.
Mrs. Tate stepped into the room, her stiff, dark dress immaculate, not a hair out of place. “Why are you not finished?”
“I am nearly done, madam.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Why are you sniffling?”
“I . . . got dust in my eye.”
“Well, pull yourself together. There is work to be done.” She left before I could respond.
I hung my head and sucked in several deep breaths, shoving my anguish aside. My attempt at composure was interrupted when Mrs. Tate abruptly reentered the room. Her haughty gaze pinned me in place, then she lifted her hand, a rag dangling from her fingers. The rag that I had been using to polish the furniture. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I must have dropped it.”
Her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed.
It was difficult not to squirm under her scrutiny, especially when she stood so still, her glare intensifying and her hand still holding the offending bit of cloth.
Finally, her arm dropped. “Each day, I become more and more convinced that you are ill-suited for your position here.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she spoke over me.
“There is no reason for your rag to be residing out in the hall unless you were doing something other than working.” Her accusation hit its target, making me tense with worry. “Master Bram may be willing to excuse your incompetence, but spying . . . .” She let the implied threat hang between us.
My chest tightened in panic. If the family believed I was spying on them for any reason, then not even Master Bram would be willing to keep me on. A servant’s loyalty to the family was paramount.
One part of me realized that her accusation was ridiculous. All of the servants listened at doors, sharing what they’d heard with the rest of the staff. But Mrs. Tate was a trusted upper servant, and if she wanted to convince Lord and Lady Mantock that I was disloyal, they would likely believe her.
I swallowed. “I assure you, madam, I was not spying. Miss Aveline was clearly distressed, and I was concerned for her. I only wanted to know if there was anything I could do.”
“And what did you decide?”
“I cannot help someone with heartbreak, which is why I returned here to finish my work.” I could hear the tremor in my own voice.
She took a step forward and dropped my rag on the floor at my feet. “We shall see” is all she said before turning to leave.
“We shall see what, madam?” I asked. She couldn’t say that and then leave me to wonder if I was going to keep my job.
She spoke without turning back to look at me. “We shall see what Lady Mantock thinks of the situation.” And with that, she was gone.
I bent to pick up the rag, not knowing what else to do. Perhaps it was an empty threat. Perhaps Lady Mantock would know it was a lie. But if she did believe it? If she let me go, I could look for work elsewhere, but who would hire me if the Mantocks dismissed me for disloyalty? No one.
I rubbed at the arm of a chair with the rag in an attempt to dispel my panic, but it stayed firmly in place.
For the rest of the day, I held my breath each time I encountered a member of the family, wondering if they would look on me with suspicion or order me out of the house. The next day was the same. I had barely slept, and the uncertainly of my position, coupled with the deep-seated betrayal I felt over Rylan, wreaked havoc on my thoughts and emotions. I made it through the day by sheer force of will.
I was finishing my last chores of the night. Most of the family had retired, and I was just waiting for Bram and Marcus to finish their late-night political debate in the parlor. Meanwhile I checked Mr. Mantock’s study, finding it already immaculate, and proceeded to the library. The fire had not yet been banked—the housemaid would take care of that later—but the rest of the room was put to rights just as the study had been. I had nothing to do until the brothers retired, so I let myself sink into the soft cushions of the settee. My head fell back, and I closed my eyes, listening to the rush and pop of the fire.
I was wrung out, and it wasn’t until I heard footsteps—much closer than they should have been—that I realized what a mistake it had been to relax, to let my guard down. I jumped to my feet but not fast enough. Bram already stood in the doorway, watching me.
I straightened my posture and stared at the floor. “Forgive me, Master Bram,” I begged as humiliation made my skin grow cold and clammy.
He studied me in silence, making my heart pound as my fear increased. I was going to be fired and return home in disgrace, unable to even keep a simple job in service.
“What is it?” Such a common question, but the way that he said it was different. He didn’t sound angry or distrustful. He sounded concerned—concerned for me.
It was as though he had not just caught me nearly falling asleep while on duty.
My heart slowed, but before I could think of a coherent response, he went on. “It seems Mrs. Tate is still trying to cause mischief where you are concerned.”
My heart sank. So she had informed the family of my treacherous ways.
“You don’t look surprised,” he noted.
I shook my head.
“I overheard her expounding on your deceitfulness to my mother.” A corner of his mouth curved up. “I’ll be honest. It was difficult not to laugh. If we fired every servant who was caught listening at doors, we’d not have a single servant to employ.”
A breath of relief whooshed out of me, almost turning into a chuckle, but not quite. I looked at his eyes, which were still filled with concern. “And what did your mother think?”
“I don’t believe she will fire you. I’ve told her my opinion of the situation, and that does hold some weight.”
I considered that, but realized that even if I could keep my position here, I didn’t want to. My body was too weary to consider submitting myself to Mrs. Tate’s threats and insults day in and day out. “Perhaps I should just go and relieve them of the burden of casting me out.”
Bram nodded, accepting that as a possibility. Maybe it was. I mentally shook myself, refocusing on my work. �
�If you and Master Marcus are finished in the parlor, I’ll be about my duties.” I lowered my head and walked to the door. Bram stepped aside and let me go.
✼ ✼ ✼
It was by sheer force of will that I made it through the next four days. The morning of my day off, I woke at first light, but despite how anxious I was to get home, my body dragged as I prepared to leave. I didn’t eat, having no time and no appetite. When I stepped out the kitchen door, I was surprised that Fynn wasn’t already there waiting for me. I sucked in a shaky breath and started walking down the drive, certain I would meet up with him soon enough.
As I turned onto the road leading to the village, I noticed a carriage sitting to the side, the horses flicking their tails as they waited. I ignored it, my mind too busy to contemplate any other mysteries.
“Kinley.”
I turned at the voice, and my insides sank into a puddle. Gavin stood there by his open carriage, an intense look of concern clouding his features as he studied my face, which probably looked haunted and broken.
Seeing my brother, waiting for me when I hadn’t even asked him to be there, broke my composure. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trembling as I struggled not to come undone.
Gavin’s arms came around me, dissolving what little control I had left. I heaved a sob and then another, blubbering into his chest.
He held me there, simply letting me cry for some time. Eventually he ushered me into his carriage, where I sagged against the seat, grateful not to be holding myself up any longer.
Gavin sat right beside me, lending me his comfort as he took up the reins. “Fynn told me what happened with Jayden. Is that why you’re crying?”
“No.” My voice squeaked, and I was mortified at having fallen apart so completely.
“You mean something else happened to make you this upset?” There was worry and a bit of exasperation in his voice.
I laugh-cried at the ridiculousness of it. “I have had—” Gasp. “A truly horrible—” Gasp. “Week.”
He transferred the reins to one hand, putting his other arm around me. “I went to speak with Jayden,” he admitted with some hesitancy.
I sniffed, sucking in little gasps of air. “Is he alive?”
Gavin chuckled as he handed me a handkerchief. “I didn’t even have to hit him. He already had a black eye, and his jaw was cut and swollen.”
I covered my drenched eyes with the cloth and attempted to control my breathing. “Did Fynn do all that?”
“No. Fynn said that evidence of his handiwork should have faded by the time I saw him.” I dropped the handkerchief and turned to look at him. He shrugged as though he didn’t know what to think of the situation, either. “It seems someone else didn’t appreciate his attitude.”
I thought of Jayden’s ugly sneer and ugly words, and my lips pressed in anger. “I’m certain there is no lack of people whom he has insulted.”
His concerned gaze studied me. “So if you aren’t crying about what Jayden did, then what is wrong?”
“I hate working for the Mantocks. And now they are probably going to fire me.”
His face fell, and the guilt that had been so prevalent during my years of service for the Baylors returned. “You should have never gone back into service.”
I shook my head, trying to keep from crumbling again. “Being a servant isn’t that terrible. I don’t like it, but I could do it if it weren’t for Mrs. Tate hating me.” The lump was back in my throat. “And Rylan coming around to court Aveline right under my nose.”
“Who is Aveline?”
“Miss Aveline Mantock.” My eyes burned.
He let out a pained sigh and closed his eyes. “I did warn you,” he said gently.
“I know! But I was certain it was a mistake. And now he’s abandoned Aveline because he is promised to someone else!” I broke apart, my last words garbled as my emotions heaved up once more, shaking my frame. Gavin tightened his arm around me and let me cry into his shoulder for most of the drive home.
As we pulled up to the house, I finally had the presence of mind to ask, “Why did you fetch me instead of Fynn?”
“Fynn asked me to help him today. I have to return home by noon, so I knew I’d be heading to the house early. It made sense for me to bring you home.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” I’d never spoken more sincere words. Fynn had defended me from Jayden, and he had been less combative lately, but if I were going to melt into a puddle of irrational emotion in front of anyone, I was glad it was Gavin.
“I also had an idea I wanted to discuss with you.”
“What’s that?”
“Actually, it was Ella’s idea, and honestly I didn’t think you would agree to it. But after hearing about your experience with the Mantocks, perhaps the idea will appeal to you.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to stay with you or work for you or whatever your idea is.”
“What if you could work somewhere farther away? Where you wouldn’t have to run into Rylander Baylor at all?”
He said Rylan’s name like a curse, which made me bristle before I realized I should be agreeing with him.
“Where did you have in mind?”
“Ella’s sister, Marilee.”
My brow furrowed as I tried to remember which one was Marilee. “You mean the one that married the son of the duke of Winberg?”
“Yes, and then he died, and she married a different man.”
“Winberg?” That was more than a day’s journey from here. I was speechless as I thought on it. I’d never seen the sea that bordered our own kingdom, and he wanted me to consider leaving the kingdom altogether? Part of me rejected the idea outright. Another part of me leapt at the prospect, excited by the idea of a new adventure.
“There’s no rush. It’s just something we thought you’d want to consider.”
I gave a slow nod. “I had already considered finding other work. I might not have a choice. Mrs. Tate accused me of spying on the family, and she is already trying to convince them to dismiss me.”
He nodded, his face grim. “Then I’m glad you have another option.”
I took a breath, preparing to get out of the carriage and go inside. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled at his candor. The moment I stepped inside the house, my splotchy red face forced me to tell my mother everything. When I explained Gavin’s idea of going to Winberg, she easily warmed to the idea. As the day wore on, I recognized the many benefits that such an arrangement would provide, making my decision easy. I could stay here, living in constant fear of losing my position at Mantock Manor, having to hear the gossip of Rylan’s forthcoming nuptials—or I could go.
Chapter Twenty-One
AFTER MY MOTHER fed me a hearty breakfast, she sent me to take a nap, no doubt noticing the way my eyes struggled to stay open and the way my body seemed determined to slump over. I gave her a grateful smile and went to my room, where I fell into bed still fully clothed.
When I awoke, the sun told me it was near noon, and I scrubbed at my eyes to wake myself up. I could hear pounding from outside, which I had to assume was Fynn and Gavin working together. I splashed some water on my face and thought about changing into a clean dress, but the smell of whatever Mama was making had me reaching for the door handle.
“Mama?”
“Back here, Kinley.”
I followed her voice into the kitchen. “Something smells wonderful. What are you—”
My feet halted, as did my voice and most of my other functions.
Rylan sat at the table with my mother. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Rylan was in my house. He had never been in my house. He didn’t belong in my house. He had no right to be in my house at this moment when he had spent the last two months whisking Aveline and several other girls off in his carriage for rides and balls and tea. He had no right to invade my safe place when I had been forced time and time again to watch as he paid
court to them, when I had served tea as he wooed a young girl he had just discarded for some unknown—
Mama came over and kissed my cheek. “Mr. Baylor would like a word, so I’ll be out in the shop with your father.” She left before my voice made its way back into my throat. Then it was just me and Rylander Baylor, staring at each other over my parents’ kitchen table.
He slowly stood, keeping his eyes on me, then bowed.
My nostrils flared, and I slowly breathed in my fury. How dare he bow to me like we were still eleven years old. Like we were still innocent and the best of friends. Curse him. Curse his adorable gestures. Curse the memories of him teaching me to read. Curse his hair that waved back from his forehead, making me want to run my fingers through it. And curse his eyes that looked at me with tenderness and vulnerability and deceitful trustworthiness.
I hated that he stood there, handsome and put together while I stood there looking like a gutter rat. I’d rolled from my bed at Mantock Manor this morning and bundled my hair in a cloth without combing it. I had cried most of the drive home in Gavin’s carriage, and I was still wearing the worn dress that I always wore to come home. The dress that was tattered and faded. And then I had slept in it.
Feeling inadequate and unkempt, I lashed out at him. “What are you doing here?”
He took a small step toward me. “I wanted to explain.”
I folded my arms, barricading myself in. “You owe me nothing.”
“Yes, I do. I want you to understand. I know what it looked like, Kinley.” There was some gratification in seeing his eyes steeped in guilt. “I know it looked like I was being a womanizing . . . ”
“Yes, it most certainly did.” I tried to sound cool and unaffected. I completely failed.
“But, you see, there was this contract,” he said as if it were the perfect explanation.
My eyes narrowed. “A contract? You mean between you and whichever naive young woman you’re promised to?” The dangerous edge in my voice surprised even me.
“No, I—wait.” He pulled up, his thoughts obviously veering off track. “What? I’m not promised to anyone.”
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