Incensed at his high-handedness, she loudly plopped the ladle back into the chowder, before yanking the cap from her head. Released, her brown hair fell in loose curling tendrils around her face. She could hear Matthias mutter "damn" under his breath and then seemingly choke on his wine. Hearing his spluttering cough, she offered him a linen napkin.
Levi, watching the new maid bend so solicitously over his brother, experienced a surge of the same fierce sensation that had assaulted him that afternoon when his brother, ignoring her ragged, filthy state, had acted the gallant and introduced himself. Christ, it was not possible that he could be jealous, the emotion was completely foreign to him. And yet, his fist clenched as he fought the violent urge to break his brother's nose, which hovered scant inches from the girl's cleavage. He could still see little of the chit's face, obscured as it was by a curtain of curls, except for a hint of the sweet smile she favored Matthias with. "If you are through wiping the spittle from my brother's chin, perhaps you could get on with serving."
Levi had an unerring sense for trouble, and when his insulting tone struck home, and the girl turned to face him, he knew he was looking at it. Trouble in the form of pale green eyes, framed by impossibly thick lashes, shining from a face so delicate and finely wrought, he found himself echoing his brother's sentiment. "Damn." Having only seen Jensen's features masked with dirt, he was amazed by the transformation brought about by a little soap and water. His eyes focused on her plump, bite-able bottom lip. His gaze lifting with slow deliberation collided with her malevolent, accusing stare. He was unable to suppress a wolfish grin.
Matthias had been right, she was truly an unearthly creature. He couldn't help imagining what it would be like to run his thumb over the slight cleft of her chin or to nibble that delectable lower lip.
Regina followed Levi's gaze. She swung her sharp profile back toward him. "It couldn't be . . . . Is that the filthy, little urchin you brought home today?"
Matthias, his face still flushed from his coughing fit, dabbed his lips with the napkin. "Amazing, isn't it?" He directed his comment at his brother with a gloating smile.
"Levi, my dear, I fear you will be the laughingstock if you continue to employ such obviously unqualified--" Regina screeched as soup splattered from the serving ladle into her bowl peppering her pink gown like cream on raspberries. She was unaware of the devilish glint in Jensen's eyes. A glint that did not escape Levi as he handed Regina his napkin. Hissing curses, Regina scrubbed the spots on her satin bodice causing the grease to spread.
"It's ruined!"
Aggie vehemently nodded her head in agreement. "Your father had that lovely fabric shipped in from Paris specifically for that gown. I shudder to think how he will react when he sees it." Her beady little eyes skewered Jensen.
"Have your father send me the bill," Levi sighed, his boredom obvious.
"Gracious as always, Levi, but I really think the girl must be punished for her carelessness."
"Don't be absurd, Regina, it's only a dress," Matthias said, his blue eyes shining with sympathy for Jensen.
"No, Matthias, Regina's right. This won't go unpunished. Jensen, I believe an apology is due Miss Hartwell."
She dropped her chin to her chest, bowing her head obsequiously. "I'm so terribly sorry, Miss." Levi had to stifle a laugh at the audacious little wench. He caught Matthias's eye and realized that his brother hadn't noticed the theatrics, only the sinful voice of the performer. Matthias's interest in the new maid was definitely peaked, Levi thought with growing annoyance.
With a victorious grin, Regina scooted her chair nearer to Levi's. "You know Levi, Mr. Wesley employs many young women of questionable skills to run his household, and we've all heard the same, salacious rumors," Regina whispered conspiratorially, her finger tracing the engraved silver buttons on the deep cuff of his black coat.
Levi leaned his dark head closer to Regina's fair one and showed her his perfect teeth, his sensual lips curved into the pretense of a smile. Jensen couldn't help thinking how fitting a cutlass would look clenched in those flashing white teeth. It hadn't surprised her in the least when he had spoken so casually about donning a uniform. Clearly, he had the black heart of a mercenary.
"Regina, what are you implying?"
"Nothing, Levi. I know that you could never be interested in a common scullion. It's well known few women measure up to your standards, my dear, but you know how these quaint colonists will talk. Williamsburg is already abuzz with the employment practices of a certain renegade plantation owner," she said with a flirtatious flutter of lashes. "However do you intend to compete with the other planters if you are unwilling to purchase slaves? Levi, you are probably unaware of this, but your unconventional methods may be thwarting your brother's chances with the House of Burgesses."
Levi, resembling a caged animal, looked to his brother for help. Instead, Matthias's eyes registered faint amusement as he watched his bride-to-be corner her prey.
"You must realize, Levi, that all of your rebellious actions reflect poorly on Matthias and myself. Don't you agree Matty?" she said, swiveling so sharply that her whalebone pannier wedged her between the table and the rungs of the ladder-back chair. Stuck in that position, she witnessed Matthias favoring Jensen with an irresistible grin. Matthias, aware of Regina's piercing stare, turned to face her, color flooding his cheeks, his dazzling smile quickly altering to one of contrition.
Levi, observing the entire scene, broke the tense silence by pushing himself from the table. He said with barely suppressed laughter, "This has been a most enlightening evening." The heels of his boots echoed in the quiet of the dining hall as he attempted to make good his escape.
"By the way, brother, where the devil are you keeping the new horse manager? I didn't see him in the stables today."
"Let's just say, he's not quite the man I'd expected," Levi replied with a sidelong glance at Jensen. She peeked at him from beneath a curtain of dark lashes. The breath caught in his chest. Her blushing face was as exquisite as a china doll's. It seemed to take all his will to pull his eyes away. With reluctance, he turned to the heavy, mahogany door and opened it. Without looking back, he asked, "Five gold pieces, wasn't it?"
"Yes, I hope you're good for it," Matthias said with a hearty laugh.
***
Levi emptied the last of the brandy into his glass as he watched the nub of candle on his desk collapse into a puddle of pearly, hot wax. He'd spent the remainder of the evening in his library pouring over some of the tedious paperwork that had been piling up on his desk. It was the part of managing the plantation he dreaded the most, always putting it off until it seemed the mound of ledgers, bills, and correspondences was the size of a haystack. He much preferred spending the day digging a trench than keeping track of his accounts. It still surprised him, the feeling of satisfaction he got from tending his fields, especially after being thrown unwillingly into the position of landowner. Tonight, though, he was experiencing an unfamiliar pang of longing for something more. Unbidden, his thoughts flew again to his newest servant. The provocative, little trickster who appeared as fragile as the crystal goblet perched on his desk but with the power to break a man's heart in two. And that sultry voice, he groaned inwardly, . . . absolutely lethal.
Levi shifted uncomfortably in his tight breeches as he recalled, for the umpteenth time, her tantalizing form shadowed on the bathhouse screen. He snatched up a piece of parchment and jotted down a note, reminding himself to have Andrea up for a visit. He hoped an afternoon with the fiery redhead would help take the edge off his sudden restlessness.
As the candlelight dimmed to a pitiful flicker, he decided to pack it in for the night. The entire household had retired hours ago, and the only noises to be heard were the ticking of the mantle clock, the heavy breathing of a wolf, and the occasional creaking of the leaded panes of the library's stately, arched windows.
"Well, Red, let's head up." Levi nudged the wolf's rump with the toe of his boot. For the last few minut
es, Ginger's gaze had been riveted on something in the courtyard. Slowly, her tail began a rhythmic thumping on the wood floor accompanied by an anxious whine.
Levi peered into the dark to see a small figure darting through the pleasure gardens. In a futile attempt to escape notice, the person would zigzag the path, dodging from one shadow to the next. Momentarily spotlighted by the radiant moon, Levi could make out the delicate profile of his newest servant.
"Crazy chit," he muttered to himself almost laughing, but his amusement was dampened by an inexplicable sense of betrayal. Why was she so anxious to leave him? Leave his plantation, he mentally corrected himself. She should have considered herself lucky, she could be working for a ruthless landowner. He ought to teach her a lesson and let her fend for herself. She wouldn't survive a week. A week? One night alone would do the trick. She'd come crawling back to him on her hands and knees. Levi swallowed hard as he visualized that. He raked his fingers through his hair and decided to have Andrea up very soon--perhaps even tomorrow. He watched as the slight, unsuspecting figure neared the main gate. He whistled, and Ginger followed him to the front door. "Go seek, Ginger--stay with her. Go, girl." With a quick wave of his hand, he sent his wolf loping down the path, happy to fulfill her master's request.
Rubbing his stiff neck, Levi smiled to himself as he recalled Jensen's introduction to his intimidating pet. He'd never seen a stranger approach Ginger without hesitation before. Only last week, his biggest, burliest overseer had vaulted a hedge to put a barrier between himself and the wolf. The most amazing thing of all was Ginger's instant acceptance of her. What was it about this girl, he asked himself, that made her so obviously different?
***
Jensen trod lightly across the forest floor, trying not to disturb any of the wild animals from their slumber. She hoped most of them were more afraid of her than she was of them, but the way she was trembling at the moment, she doubted it. Still bone weary from her journey to the colonies and the trek to Moss Rose, Jensen willed her heavy feet to head down to the river. She'd heard the rush of water while packed tightly in the saddle with that exasperating, ill-tempered man. As much as she despised him, she couldn't help wishing for the security of his broad back and massive shoulders. She shook off the absurd notion, surely Master North was far more dangerous than anything the forest had to offer.
Sniffing the musty, cool scent of running water, she quickened her pace, deciding that if she followed the river downstream, she would eventually end up near a town. Then she could begin her search for Aunt Charmaine. Her aunt had made mention of Culpeper, a place near her homestead, but since the correspondences had ceased so abruptly, she was never able to determine exactly where she lived. Knowing how her uncle detested his sister and her rebellious ways, Jensen was convinced he had taken to burning her letters, fearing the influence she might have on his impressionable niece.
Hearing soft footsteps behind her, Jensen froze. She stood so still she could feel the rhythmic pulsing of the blood in her veins. Holding her breath, she twisted her head to peek over her shoulders. Her body jolted with terror as she spotted two slanted, glowing eyes peering at her through the shrubbery. Weighing the heft of her knapsack in the palm of her hand, she wondered if she could knock the animal senseless with her hard biscuits. The ridiculous thought made her shoulders shake with silent laughter. Recalling something she'd read about not showing fear and being aggressive when confronted with a predator, she stood her ground, hurled her knapsack at the animal, waved her arms frantically, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
So much for that useless bit of information, she thought, as the leaves parted and the animal strolled toward her. Like a child, she covered her eyes with her hands, hoping to make herself invisible. Hot breath penetrated the thick weave of her woolen skirt. She nearly jumped out of her skin as something landed on the toe of her boot. Peeking through her fingers, she experienced a tremendous flood of relief as she recognized the tame wolf sporting the bright blue scarf. She reached down to pick up the knapsack that Ginger had retrieved. Fright seized her again, and her eyes scanned the area, expecting to see the forbidding shadow of the wolf's owner. Several anxiety filled moments passed before Jensen was convinced that Ginger had come alone.
Finally, relaxing enough to move, she put a hand out toward the animal. Crouching, she came close enough to catch the scent of tobacco lingering on her coarse fur. Jensen's nose twitched as she recalled how disturbingly masculine the half-naked colonial had looked resting against the rock. It was the same sweet scent, blended with sandalwood and man, that had left her feeling both weak and comforted as she lay cradled in his powerful arms after being thrown from the horse. Her stomach tightened as a bizarre notion took hold, that running from Moss Rose was a terrible mistake, as if she were leaving behind the security his arms had offered. 'Twas odd, she felt more alone now than she ever had in her life.
Chapter 6
Levi scratched his rough beard as he drew back the heavy curtains. The first shards of sunlight were just cutting through the dark purple sky. He felt as though he had hardly slept at all. Truth was, he hadn't. He had paced the floor so many times it was a wonder there wasn't a groove in the wood planks. He'd had enough brandy to knock out a horse. So, why the hell had he had such a disturbing night?
Hearing Ginger's morning wake up call, a persistent scratch at the door, Levi crossed to open it. He gave her a hearty pat on the shanks before pouring cold water into the basin to splash his face awake. "So, girl, did you lead the little wench back home already?" He wondered just how quickly his little maid had come slinking back to Moss Rose with her tail between her legs.
Ginger dropped down to her stomach and rested her long snout on two thick forepaws. She looked up at Levi, her eyes wide and a bit sheepish. "Tired huh? You know you're supposed to be up at night hunting, howling at the moon, and looking for a mate. Or did you forget you were a wolf?" The animal replied with a sorrowful moan before rolling to her side for a nap.
Levi headed out, hoping to get an early start in the fields. He would check in with Maggie later to see how the new maid was faring after her late night excursion.
***
The cold air of dawn was being slowly replaced by the warm air of a bright, spring day. Levi wiped the sweat from his forehead as he glanced around at the rows of vulnerable, young tobacco plants. He and his men were close to finishing the lengthy transplantation process, which involved moving the tender sprouts from their sandy seedbeds to the fresh turned rows of soil.
"Mr. North! Mr. North!" Celia shouted as she ran toward him holding her cumbersome skirts up with one hand, while the other hand wielded a large, pewter mug. Even from that distance, Levi could see the container's contents sloshing over its rim. "Mr. North," Celia gasped as she bent over in an attempt to catch her breath. "Maggie thought . . . ." She handed him the sticky tankard and took another big swallow of air before continuing. "Maggie thought you might be needing a few slugs of cider this mornin'."
Levi took the mug gratefully, held it up in a mock toast, and swallowed the contents in several gulps. He handed her back the empty tankard and gave her a smile evoking a flirtatious bat of her golden lashes.
Puzzled, he furrowed his brow. "Do you mean to tell me that Maggie made you run like a bat out of hell just to hand me a drink?"
Celia looked down and fiddled coyly with her apron, mumbling something.
"What is it, Celia? I can't understand a word."
Celia lifted her face, cleared her throat, and spoke again. "Maggie wanted you to know, the new servant snuck out in the middle of the night."
"Oh, is that it. You can tell Maggie, I'm well aware of her escape attempt, and I will speak to the girl about it later."
Now Celia wore the puzzled look. "Then you know where she is, sir?"
Levi grabbed Celia's arm none too gently, causing the pewter vessel to drop to her feet. "Do you mean to tell me the deceitful, little baggage did not return?"
Celia's
lips quivered slightly in fear, unused to such a profound reaction from her employer. She looked at him now with rounded, blue eyes. "If she has returned, sir, she must be hidin' somewhere cause none of us have seen her. I'm sure if we take another good look--"
Levi was off before Celia had finished speaking. He raced toward the stables, yelling ahead for Thomas to saddle Archer. God's blood, who'd have thought the tiny thing would have enough courage to stay out alone all night. He wrenched open the paddock gate. He should have followed her instead of sending his wolf. He experienced an unfamiliar twist in his gut. What if she had been harmed? He bit back a violent oath as an even more chilling possibility entered his mind. Why hadn't he just let her escape him in Chesapeake? Damn, the girl was becoming a thorn in his side.
Thomas had barely finished slipping the bridle over the stallion's ears when Levi sprung into the saddle. "Is there something the matter, sir?" Thomas eyed him with obvious concern.
"It's Miss Hawthorne, the girl I brought home yesterday. Seems she's decided to leave Moss Rose without permission."
Thomas handed him the reins. "If you don't mind me saying so sir, that one looks to be a bit hard to handle."
"Amazing, Thomas, you read my mind." He gave a loud whistle for Ginger and was off.
As he spotted the first small footprint, he swung down from his mount and followed the trail of broken twigs and biscuit crumbs. In a tangle of bracken, he found a very long strip of linen petticoat and tied it around the pommel of his saddle. He hoped that the clumsy girl had accidentally ripped it herself, rather than having it torn from her during some kind of struggle. He shook his head to rid himself of the grim thought.
Ginger, who had been leading the way, stopped momentarily, turning her head to stare at him, seeming to urge him on with her golden eyes. With an exuberant bark, the wolf loped off toward the river. The girl had come amazingly far considering how dark it had been and how rough the terrain. As Levi approached a large oak tree near the river, he saw one of its branches move slightly. He glimpsed a flash of white amidst the greenish-brown foliage. Ginger plopped down beside the tree and wagged her tail excitedly. Levi was stunned at how much relief he felt to find her safe. With deliberate slowness, he tied the horse to a hedge, used the tree bark to scrape the mud off his boot heels, rolled a cheroot and sat down to have a leisurely smoke beneath the shady branches where his lost kitten was precariously perched.
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