Inverness found himself sitting up. Where had she come from? He would have known about a woman as beautiful as her on his staff. The girl’s eyes widened and a slight flush crossed her cheeks. Then she ducked her head and bobbed a quick curtsy.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but Her Grace wanted me to fetch a shawl for her. She said she was cold.”
Inverness could barely find the words. He had forgotten how to speak. Duchess Christine, on the other hand, beamed at the girl and beckoned her over.
“Thank you, Rita.” She allowed the servant girl to drape the beautiful dark shawl around her shoulders, sinking into the fabric with a sigh. “The fire’s lovely but I’m still feeling the chill. I hope I’m not coming down with something.”
But Inverness barely heard his mother. He was still staring at the girl. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“I haven’t seen you before,” he blurted out.
The girl’s eyes snapped up to him. She seemed to freeze like a frightened rabbit. Duchess Christine smiled and patted the girl’s hand.
“Rita’s new. I hired her at the start of the season. She’s my personal maid.”
Her cheek’s still red, Rita bowed her head and curtsied to Inverness.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace.”
“Likewise, Rita.” Rita. Inverness liked that name. “I hope my mother isn’t driving you too hard.”
“She’s the perfect employer, Sir.”
The dowager duchess burst out laughing.
“She’s been trained well. You can go now, Rita. I won’t need you for a while.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Rita left, her walk smooth and graceful. Inverness couldn’t help but stare after her as she left. She simply just drew the eye. Inverness was completely snared.
“Paul!”
Inverness jumped. Duchess Christine was frowning at him. Flushing, Inverness cleared his throat and sat back.
“Forgive me, Mother. What did you say?”
His mother shook her head in disapproval.
“You are too old to be chastised like a child,” she scolded. “I haven’t called you Paul for a while now.”
“Five years, to be exact.”
“It’s got your attention, anyway,” Duchess Christine grunted. “I brought you here to chaperone me, not to gawp over my maids.”
“I…” Inverness could feel his face getting warmer. “I wasn’t gawping!”
“You were staring at Rita the whole time she was here. She’s a nice girl and I am liberal in most things, Inverness, but I think you taking a liking to one of the servants is a bit too far.”
“I haven’t taken a liking to her.”
But even as he said it, Inverness felt like that was a lie. Was he actually taking a fancy to a servant? The dowager duchess grunted.
“You’ve been at your estate for too long. I can’t believe how naïve you are.”
“Naïve.” Inverness smarted. “What do you mean I’m naïve?”
Duchess Christine smiled and rolled her eyes.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Chapter 2
The Strange Man
“Rita!” Rita jumped when a tray was slammed onto the table. “Come on, girl, pay attention! This is for your mistress.”
Rita took a moment to refocus. Then she realized where she was: in the kitchen with the duke and dowager duchess’s cook frowning at her. She was there to take the dowager duchess her breakfast if Rita could pay attention. Duchess Christine was not an early riser and in the cold weather, she preferred to have breakfast in bed.
Rita liked working for the older lady. She was kind and warm. From what she had heard from her friends in other various households that was a rare thing. Rita considered herself lucky to have such a nice employer.
But even Duchess Christine would disapprove of Rita not being on top of her job. She liked things to be done efficiently and Rita was starting to slip. She didn’t want to lose her job because she was consistently daydreaming.
Feeling her face flush with warmth, Rita dropped her eyes and bit her lip.
“Forgive me, Cook. I did not mean to be rude.”
“I can tell.” Cook was now looking more concerned than disapproving. “What’s wrong with you, child? You seem to be completely off in your own world today. In fact, you’ve been out of sorts for a while. That’s not like you at all.”
“It’s not intentional, Cook,” Rita protested.
“I know it isn’t.” Cook chuckled as she started serving up the dowager duchess’s breakfast, putting bacon and eggs onto the plate. “And I think I know the reason why.”
Rita hoped not. Her fingers twisted together.
“I’m just a little tired, Cook.”
“It’s not that.” Cook smirked. “I think it’s because you find the duke attractive.”
“I do not!”
But Rita could feel her face getting even warmer. The Duke of Inverness had been on her mind since they had first met. He was certainly a very handsome man. Light brown hair a little on the long side, brushing against his collar, and startling blue eyes. They had speared Rita to the spot, and she had forgotten how to breathe. The duke was an eye-catching fellow and cut a fine figure in his best silks. And that stare of his…it was intense. Rita had felt like she was on a pedestal. No man had looked at her with such intensity before.
Ever since the duke had arrived, Rita had been off-balance. She had been trying to get on with her work but was very much aware when the duke came into the room. He had a presence that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. And that soft Scottish accent of his was like music. Rita could listen to him all day.
But thinking about him beyond being her employer was dangerous. And illicit. It was unthinkable to consider anything more than a servant-employer relationship. Rita knew her thoughts were bad, and she had been to church several times to confess her sins. But it didn’t seem to be doing any good.
“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” Cook went on as she put some toast on another plate, a small bowl of butter beside it with a knife. “Most of the girls here end up staring at him for a little too long. For a man who’s practically a hermit, he has no idea his effect on women.” Cook shot Rita a look. “But he’s not our sort, Rita, dear. He will never take one of us for a wife.”
“I know that.”
Rita was painfully aware of it. There were times when she wished that wasn’t the case. She would love to have a wealthy husband so she could pull herself out of the gutter. But that was merely a dream. Realistically, Rita knew it would never happen. She knew her limits.
And that was painful.
Cook assembled the plates and tea on the tray and beckoned Rita over.
“Come on, girl, take that upstairs. And don’t dawdle. Her Grace doesn’t like lateness as you know.”
Rita did know. And she was already late with her daydreaming. Picking up the heavy tray, she carried it through the house and up the stairs. Her father had been a valet and her mother a governess. Both of them had taught her the life of servitude. She had been trained from an early age. The tray was big and awkward, but Rita didn’t spill a drop from the teapot or the milk jug as she practically flowed up the stairs.
When she got outside the dowager duchess’s bedroom door, Rita managed to balance the tray on one arm and gave the door a sharp rap. Then she opened the door and nudged it open with her shoulder. Duchess Christine was sitting up in bed, her hair loose about her shoulders, wrapped in a shawl over her nightgown. For someone in her later years, she was certainly still a very handsome woman. She made sitting in bed look like she was sitting in someone’s parlor drinking tea.
“Your breakfast, Your Grace,” Rita said, carrying the tray across and placing it on the coffee table.
“Thank you, Rita.” Duchess Christine paused as Rita picked up the tray stand from under the bed. “Did you get a little side-tracked on the way up?”
Rita winced.
“A little bit, Madam.” She put the stand over Duchess Christine’s lap and hurried back with the tray, balancing it on top. “Forgive me for my lateness.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The dowager duchess smiled. “I’ve been having a pleasant conversation with my son. The time passed well enough with him.”
The duke? He was in here? Rita spun around. Sure enough, sitting on the window seat and dressed in navy blue, was Inverness. Was it her imagination, or did the duke’s clothes fit him a little too snugly? Rita realized she was staring and lowered her eyes to the floor, dropping into a quick curtsy.
“Your Grace. Forgive me, I didn’t notice you there.”
“I’m not surprised. Your eyes were practically watching your feet.” Inverness’s voice was warm, laced with amusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t trip over.”
Rita swallowed. Her stomach felt like she had housed butterflies there and it was making her light-headed. She bobbed a curtsy at the dowager duchess, who seemed to be watching her curiously.
“If there’s nothing else, Madam, I’ll head back to the kitchens. Cook wanted me to pick the vegetables in the garden today.”
That was when Inverness practically jumped to his feet.
“And I’ll get on with some work, if you don’t mind, Mother?”
“Of course not. I prefer not to have an audience with my breakfast.” Duchess Christine waved them out. “You two run along.”
Rita tried not to run as she went towards the door. But she wasn’t quick enough to escape. Inverness got there first and held the door open for her, giving her a smile that made Rita want to swoon.
“I’ll escort you downstairs, Miss Rita.”
Rita floundered. The duke wanted to escort her? She couldn’t have that, surely?
“There’s no need…” she began, but Duchess Christine laughed.
“Oh, Rita, don’t turn him down. He doesn’t do this to anyone. Make the most of it.”
Rita didn’t want to make the most of it. She wanted to get back to the kitchens where she was safe. Where she could breathe properly again and not feel like she was going to make a fool of herself.
The Duke of Inverness was not good on her nerves.
As they walked along the hall towards the stairs, Rita kept a good distance from the duke, her eyes down and focusing on walking. If she looked at the imposing man beside her, Rita was sure she would trip over her own feet. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.
“Are you well, Rita?”
Rita almost stumbled on the top step in the stairway. She caught hold of the wall to get her balance and turned. Inverness was at the top of the stairs, giving her a look of concern.
“Your Grace?”
“Are you well? You look like you’re about to faint.”
He had no idea. Rita drew herself up and squared her shoulders.
“I feel a bit like a fraud, Sir.”
“What do you mean?”
“A duke escorting a servant to the kitchens? It feels…” Rita shrugged, “odd.”
Inverness chuckled. That laugh was just as effective on Rita as his smile. The butterflies got worse.
“I’m an odd man.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you call me?”
Rita couldn’t believe she had said that. She didn’t find the duke odd at all. But she wasn’t about to admit anything more. Not when the man himself was in front of her. She turned and hurried down the stairs.
“You’re trying to embarrass me.”
“Not at all.” Inverness followed her down, his step almost languid compared to Rita’s hurried step. “I want to know what you really think.”
“From a servant?”
“From a woman.” Inverness managed to get past Rita and stopped at the foot of the stairs, blocking her way. “Forget about your status. Tell me what you really think.”
Chapter 3
Unable to Deny the Duke
Why was he so insistent on knowing what she thought? It didn’t make any sense. And he looked so earnest about it. Rita swallowed.
“I can’t really form an opinion of you, Your Grace,” she croaked. “I barely know you.”
Inverness smiled. He really didn’t know the effect he had on her?
“I’m sure we can rectify that. Once you’ve finished your work for the morning, come and find me. I want to know more about you.”
“There…” Now Rita was beginning to panic. “There’s not much to tell, and it’s not very exciting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Then Inverness was walking away before Rita could respond. She was left swaying. What had just happened? A duke actually wanted to know more? Surely that wasn’t socially acceptable.
It must be because he was out of Society so much. He was on his own a lot of the time, according to Duchess Christine. That must be the reason he was so interested in the servants; he didn’t know Society’s rules as well as he should.
Rita probably knew them better than he did. And she was left confused. Did she do as Society dictated and not create a scandal even if it was just a conversation between them? Or did she follow her employer’s orders?
Rita was still trying to decide what she should do when she went back into the kitchen. Cook was there, rolling out pastry. She looked up as Rita entered.
“What’s the matter, Rita? You look pale.”
Rita felt pale. She felt light-headed. Finding a chair, she sat before her legs gave out.
“The duke just asked me to come to his study once I’ve finished my work this morning.” She gulped. “He says he wants to know more about me.”
“He did?”
“Yes. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Cook sighed and put the rolling pin down.
“I think you should do as the duke requests.”
“Really?” Rita started. “Won’t that make people talk?”
“I think the Duke of Inverness is used to people talking about his odd antics. He follows Society’s rules as loosely as possible and prefers his own company. People call him eccentric and getting to know a pretty girl who works for his mother would be one of them.”
Rita didn’t think Inverness as eccentric. A little odd to be very interested in her but not eccentric. She knew she should be flattered that he’s paying any sort of attention to her.
But all she could feel was terror.
***
“You’re sounding a lot better, Mother,” Inverness commented.
Duchess Christine smiled and leaned into her son. They were walking through the snow-filled gardens arm-in-arm, Christine wrapped up warm against the gentle flurries of snow.
“Much better,” she declared. “This fresh air is doing some good.”
“I’m glad. You’ve not been yourself lately.”
“I know.” Christine sighed. “I hate being unwell. But it’s almost gone now. My chest hurts from all the coughing though.”
Inverness could imagine. For the past month, his mother had taken ill and ended up in bed until the day before. She had coughed so much, and so hard, Inverness was surprised she didn’t rupture something. Even though she was still pale and a little frail still, it was good to see the dowager duchess up and walking about.
“At least you had Rita to look after you.”
“Yes. She’s a very good little nurse.”
Rita. The woman who had plagued Inverness’s thoughts since that first meeting. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her. She was a sweet, innocent girl, but not afraid to stand up for herself. And she was slowly opening up to him. Inverness knew he had been playing with fire wanting to know more about his mother’s maid–the scandal it would cause!–but he couldn’t stop himself. Rita had appeared to think the same thing, acting like a frightened little mouse around him. It was after a few times meeting her in his study–with the door wide open, of course–that Rita began to relax and talk to him.
Inver
ness had not taken so much interest in his servants before. And talking to Rita was a lot more entertaining than talking to his fellow contemporaries and peers.
Everything about Rita kept surprising him.
“She’s a very clever girl,” Inverness said warmly. “Did you know she can read and write perfectly?”
“I did. Her mother is a governess and teaches many children through Society.” Christine was looking at her son curiously. “It was partly the reason I hired her. It’s nice to have an educated woman as a maid. She reads to me when my eyes are too tired.”
Inverness had heard that. He hadn’t meant to; he had been passing by his mother’s room on the way to his and heard Rita reading. She had a sweet, melodic voice that he couldn’t seem to walk away from. And Inverness had almost been caught hovering outside the dowager duchess’s room by his own valet. That would have taken some explaining.
“She’s very interesting,” he went on. “Shy but well-rounded in her opinions. She will give her say without apology when you give her a push. It’s quite refreshing.”
“Sounds like the two of you have been spending a lot of time together,” Duchess Christine commented.
She was still frowning at him. Inverness understood the look and hastened to assure her.
“I only talk to her, Mother. Nothing untoward goes on. Either the study door is open, or my valet is present. We’re never alone, I promise.”
“I wasn’t worried about that. I know you wouldn’t do something like that to anyone.” Duchess Christine stopped and shook her head. “But I would have disapproved at the start.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a servant. She’s my maid, not your plaything. I don’t want her messed about.”
“Of course not.” Inverness was indignant at the idea. “That’s not my style, Mother.”
Regency Romances for the Ages Page 73