“My apologies, but I must be on my way. I have duties…”
“Come on, Avery, even I know the duke is out on the town tonight.” He flinched as she laid a careless hand on his forearm. “I need to tell you something.”
Pulling free of her grasp as carefully as he could, he turned to face her. Her tone was much too serious to ignore, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise. He nodded toward the garden he’d just come from.
“If you must, then please speak in the garden. It is more private.”
She walked in the direction he indicated. Tapping his thigh with anxious fingers, he tried to ignore the sway of her skirts. She drove him mad with the simplest of movements. Although he’d been with other women before, none of them made his blood fire in his veins like she did. With tremendous effort, he restrained the growing interest in his loins.
When they reached the bench by the oak, Miss Ramsey sat down and stretched her feet out in front of her with a grateful sigh.
“Gosh, that’s better.” She bent down and removed her boots, wiggling her stockinged feet in the night air. “Holy crap, this feels good.” Propping her ankle on her knee, she rubbed her abused toes.
He averted his gaze. What a pitiful man he was, tempted by a slender female foot. Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands behind his back.
“You wished to speak with me?”
She dropped her foot and looked up at him, the vibrant blue of her eyes shining with excitement and just a tinge of regret. She opened her mouth to speak, but just then a voice called from the kitchen doorway.
“Ramsey,” Cook called. “Mrs. Harper is asking for ye. Look sharp, my girl.”
Miss Ramsey groaned and shoved her feet into her boots. “That housekeeper makes the Stormtroopers look soft and cuddly. Can I catch you later?”
Avery nodded. “Of course.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, Avery. You’re the best.”
Worry grabbed hold of his spine as she walked away. Whatever she’d been about to tell him had been important. He did not know her very well, but he knew that she would not waste his time idly.
With a lingering glance at the setting sun, Avery set off toward the training room. Although he no longer felt the burning need to punish his body as he had before, the exercise would calm him.
And with the tempest roaring in his soul, that was a comfort he sorely needed.
***
When Leah’s head finally hit the pillow, she was beyond exhausted and was somewhere between La-La-Land and Completely Punchy. She fought the urge to giggle as she rolled to her side with a smile.
No more scrubbing chamber pots and toting ash buckets. She was going to be like a Regency era Eliza Doolittle, only without the slipper fetching for Professor Higgins. She nearly cracked her jaw with a yawn as Henrietta flopped into bed behind her. Leah rolled her eyes as a bony heel connected with her calf. And to think she’d actually wondered if the little demon would miss her.
“Oh heavens! A spider!” Henrietta screamed.
The bed jostled violently. Henrietta’s full-blooded shriek had Leah leaping out of bed and reaching for the nearest blunt object to defend herself with, in this case a heavy candlestick.
“Henrietta, where is it?” Leah brandished the metal object toward the room at large, searching wildly for the murdering eight-legged bastard as Sara and Teresa snorted with laughter. Wait, what?
“Oh,” Henrietta gasped, doubled over with mirth. “Your face, you should have seen…” She collapsed on the pillows in a heap of full-throated laughter.
A chill settled over Leah’s shoulders. The mocking laughter echoing in her ears, she set the candlestick down carefully and smoothed her shift over her hips. Slowly, methodically, she stepped toward the bed and the still-gasping-with-giggles Henrietta. Kneeling on the mattress with one knee, Leah leaned close to the young maid.
“You listen to me, and you listen good,” Leah said in a low tone. The girl stopped laughing, eyes widening slightly at Leah’s words. “I’ve let you off easy until now. But you’ve just messed with the biggest bitch you’re ever going to meet in this lifetime, and she’s had all she can take. Just remember that whatever’s coming? You asked for it.”
Henrietta wasn’t breathing, just staring at Leah’s face with the glassed-over look of someone who realized they’d stepped in a giant pile of trouble.
With a calm smile and a gentle “good night” to the room full of silent girls, Leah settled into her pillows once more with a happy sigh.
This was going to be so satisfying.
***
She had to get up early the next morning, but it was so worth it. Fortunately, her internal clock had been honed to a fine edge since college. Jamie had a nasty habit of forgetting to pay the electric bill.
All three of Leah’s servant roommates slept like the dead. She kept all her delightedly evil snickering inside, though. No need to tempt fate.
When she’d laid out her plans to the best of her ability, she stuffed her pouch of contraband into the brown leather bag that Avery had given her. With her nearly nonexistent packing completed she descended the back staircase with a happy sigh. All she had to do now was tell Mrs. Harper she quit and hit the road for Lady Chesterfield’s.
She’d be sorry to leave Avery and Cook, but the rest of them? Not so much. Lady Chesterfield seemed incredibly nice, and Jamie had told her all about the young maid, Muriel. She hadn’t expected to actually get to meet her, so this was going to be awesome. Spending her days with people that didn’t resent her? What a novel freaking idea.
She’d been sitting at the servants’ table for about twenty minutes when the screams trickled down the stairs. Smiling, she picked at her fingernails. Any minute now…
“You stupid, evil, horrid woman!” Henrietta flew down the stairs, dressed only in her shift with her face completely blackened with coal dust. The very ends of her braids were coated with tar, and left sticky black spots on the white cotton. “What have you done to me?”
Leah pursed her lips and examined her cuticles. “I told you last night. You’ve brought every bit of this on yourself.”
With a shriek of pure rage, the girl ran toward Leah with fingers curled into claws.
Leah didn’t move. She wasn’t concerned at all.
“Henrietta!” Sara descended the stairs, pale face wan. “Your clothes!”
“My clothes?” Henrietta whirled. “What is wrong?”
“They’re…they’re on the ceiling.” Sara’s voice trailed into a whisper.
“What? They cannot,” she turned to Leah. “You did not…”
“I didn’t what? I don’t remember asking to be scared shitless last night.” Shoving her chair back, Leah propped her hands on her hips and glowered down at the dumbstruck maid. “I didn’t do what I did to get even with you. I did what I did to teach you a lesson. Actions have consequences, and I don’t tolerate bullies. This is a little something called Karma. You get back what you put out. And so far, all you’ve put out is meanness. So here’s what you’re going to do.”
Henrietta sank into the chair Leah pointed to. Underneath all her shenanigans and bullshit, she was still just a young girl. Teaching her this lesson would be the best thing Leah could do for her if she did it right.
“You’re going to go wash your face. You’re going to clip off the ends of your braids, because that tar isn’t coming out. You’re going to get your clothes down from the ceiling beams, get dressed, and apologize to Teresa and anyone else in the house you’ve tried to scare into giving you your way. And then you’re going to not pull any of this shit again, or the next time something bad happens to you, it’s liable to be a lot worse. Karma’s a bigger bitch than you or I ever will be. Do you understand?”
Sullen tears tracked down Henrietta’s cheeks, leaving pale white strips in the coal. “Yes,” she whispered. She looked up at Leah with a pitiful frown. “I am sorry.”
Leah nodded. “Thank you for the apology. Go ahe
ad upstairs.”
Sara followed a surprisingly meek Henrietta back upstairs, and Leah sank back onto the chair with a relieved breath. Hopefully the girl would think twice about her attitude from now on. Leah’s retribution was pretty tame compared to what Henrietta deserved.
Biting her lip, Leah toed the leather bag with her boot.
Yeah, she’d taught Henrietta a lesson, but she didn’t really feel good about it. The girl was young, and she’d had it hard, but that didn’t excuse the way she’d been acting. Leah sighed and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She had done the right thing, she thought. Hopefully.
Footsteps on the stairwell drew her attention. She stood, grabbing her bag and holding it in front of her like a shield.
“Ramsey, whatever are you doing dressed in that manner?” Mrs. Harper looked down at Leah, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something bad. Leah sniffed her armpit, she hoped subversively. Yeah, the basin baths hadn’t been the most thorough, but she’d done the best she could.
“I’ve been asked to take a position in another household,” Leah said, delivering the line Lady Chesterfield had given her with aplomb.
Mrs. Harper laughed aloud. “Whatever can you mean? Your service has been barely suitable in this home. Who could have…”
Leah smiled, biting back the snarky comments she wanted to fire back at Mrs. Harper. “Thank you for the kindness you’ve shown to me while I’ve been here. I won’t ever forget you.”
Turning on her heel, Leah marched toward the door. This wasn’t exactly how and when she’d planned to do this, but damn it, she didn’t want to spend another half hour here with Queen Q-tip. Ignoring the housekeeper’s protestations, Leah closed the kitchen door firmly behind her.
And stopped dead.
Damn it, it was only five in the morning and still pitch-black out. What a way to botch her grand exit.
With a sigh, Leah leaned up against the wall. If that wasn’t bad enough, she still hadn’t managed to say good-bye to Avery. Well, this was great. Peachy. Glancing above her, she counted the windows. The one at the top was glowing softly with candlelight. With a grin, she bent down and scooped up a pebble. There was more than one way to get a valet’s attention.
Fifteen
Tilting his chin skyward, Avery scraped the last of the shaving soap away. Wrapping his throat and cheeks in the soft, damp cloth, he sniffed as he wiped his skin clean. He tried not to think of the marks and bruises that this skin would very likely bear after the upcoming tourney. Tossing the cloth aside, he grabbed his breeches from the wooden chair by his bedside. He’d just buttoned them when a sharp pinging sound at the window drew his attention.
Glancing sideways with a bemused scowl, he picked up his shirt. Another ping rang through the room, followed by a third.
“Damn and blast,” Avery muttered, tossing his shirt aside and going to the window. He must make haste for the last-minute preparations for His Grace’s journey. This was a distraction he could ill afford.
Swinging the window open, he leaned forward to see where the projectiles were originating. A tiny pebble caught him on the bare shoulder, and he winced.
“Oh gosh, Avery, I’m sorry!” Miss Ramsey’s voice floated up to him as he clapped a hand over the stinging spot. “I was just trying to get your attention. Can you come out here? I need to talk to you before I go.”
“Go?” He suddenly forgot that he was only half-dressed in the unease her words draped over him. “Whatever do you mean?
She was barely visible in the predawn gloom, but when she glanced about, her blonde tresses whipped in the early morning breeze. He gripped the windowsill tightly, hoping that he’d misheard her.
“It’s kind of a long story, and I don’t want to yell it.”
“I shall come down to you,” he said, and shut the window. Jamming his arms through his sleeves, he made quick work of dressing, his thoughts all a-tangle as he did. How could she leave? Where would she go?
It did not signify. She did not know the dangers of this world. No matter her destination, he was determined to stop her. For how could he protect her if she left?
His footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell as he hurried toward the area. He did not have time for this. But how could he let her go?
Ducking past Cook, he slipped out the kitchen door.
There she stood on the steps that led up from the small area to the lane, one hand gripping the old leather case he’d given her, golden hair making a halo around her head. She gave him a small smile, and his heart thudded against his ribs. Steady on, my lad. He gripped his hands behind his back and stiffened his spine.
“I tried to tell you yesterday, but we kind of got interrupted.” She took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders in an exaggerated manner. “Lady Chesterfield asked me to come live with her, and I said yes.”
“Lady Chesterfield?” he echoed incredulously. “Why has she asked this?” Avery’s nails dug into his palms.
“Last night at the dowager’s party, Lady Chesterfield told me that she knew about Jamie, my friend. She’s going to help me with the duke and make me into a lady, à la Eliza Doolittle, I guess.” Leah bobbed a grand curtsy with a grin. “Isn’t that awesome?”
Avery’s ire rose, bubbling in his gut like an overflowing river. “I do not know Miss Eliza Doolittle, but Lady Chesterfield is a bit of an eccentric. You should not accept her offer. You know nothing of her, nor she you.” He couldn’t control the hint of bitterness in his tone. She was leaving after all he’d done for her? “This is foolishness.”
“Seriously?” Leah’s blond brows crept high on her forehead. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. But I think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and this is a great opportunity. You’ve helped me a lot, and I appreciate that, but you’ve got to realize that I make my own decisions.” The determined set to her chin fanned the flames of his temper, and he could remain still no longer.
“Do you?” Dropping his hands from behind his back, he took a step closer to her. “You make your own decisions? Is that why you decided you were destined for a man you’d never met? Are you the arbiter of destiny now as well?”
Her eyes widening, she stepped backward, bringing the bag in front of her as if to shield herself from him. “I…I don’t…”
“Of course, my mistake, milady. Please. Do go and take up residence with these complete strangers. Of course, this is what you’d wanted all along, is it not? To be puffed up like some fine lady, to be able to court your duke on even ground? Ah yes. I can see by the expression in your limpid blue eyes that I am correct. I shall not importune you further, Miss Ramsey.” He swept an exaggerated bow, nearly choking on his own bile-filled venom.
“Avery, please. Don’t act like this.” When he straightened, she stepped close to him. Reaching her hand upward, toward his cheek, she whispered, “Listen, I…”
He knocked her hand away, staggering backward as if burned. “Do not touch me.” But that wasn’t what he really wanted. He wanted to pull her into his arms and press his lips to hers, but he could not ruin her, no matter how much he wanted her.
Her fingers curled into a fist, which she dropped down by her side. “Fine. Have a nice life, Mr. Russell.”
As she turned, the sweet, exotic scent of her tantalized him. She marched up the stairs toward the street.
“Miss Ramsey?”
She stopped but did not turn. “Yes?”
“I wish you well,” he said in a low voice.
She nodded and then was gone, taking Avery’s sense of peace with her.
A moment passed, then two, and with each heartbeat Avery’s regret grew. When the torment grew too much to bear, he sprinted up the stairs to chase after Leah.
Her back was rigid as she strode quickly down the lane. She was nearly at the corner now. He watched her walk away for a long moment, warring with himself. What the devil was wrong with him? He should be glad to see the back of her. She’d caused him no end of trouble. So why did he lo
ng to chase after her and apologize?
He shoved a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing he’d not secured his queue. Damn. She’d done more than upset the household; she’d upset his internal balance. Best to get back to it. He had a journey to prepare for and a mill to attend. As distasteful as both propositions were, what choice did he have?
He turned and reluctantly made his way down toward the kitchen door, but voices ground him to a halt. A man and woman arguing? The woman’s voice grew louder and more insistent.
“I told you, I’m not interested.”
Miss Ramsey.
Without another thought, Avery leaped up the stairs and sprinted after her. Adrenaline pounded through him, forcing his footsteps faster. She needed him. He’d been right to worry. She was unprepared and vulnerable and in no position…
He stopped suddenly, gravel crunching beneath his boots. Miss Ramsey stood over Lachlan Mackenzie, who was moaning and grabbing his crotch as he lay in a heap on the gravel.
“Maybe next time a woman tells you she’s not interested, you’ll take her a little more seriously.” She glared at the man and nudged him with the toe of her boot.
He would thrash Mackenzie. Later. For now, he directed his attention to Miss Ramsey. Her eyes were alight with anger, and her chest heaved with exertion and outrage. She was the picture of a warrior goddess, strong and decisive. The antithesis of a meek and demure female, but strangely he was drawn to her even more at the sight.
“Miss Ramsey, are you injured?” You simpleton, she is obviously not. But he could think of nothing else to say. If the stable master had laid a finger on her, Avery would not simply thrash him. He’d kill him.
She glanced over at him without losing her cross expression. “No, I’m fine. Just had to explain some basic communication skills to gropey-boy here.” Hefting the bag in her right hand, she sniffed. “Well, I’m going to try this leaving thing again. See ya.”
This time, when she turned, he reached out a hand and stopped her.
Gina Lamm Page 12