The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  “Not to worry, dear Louisa.” He stepped back. “When you are able, we will discover which area of the estate you are best suited for.”

  She tightened her arms around her chest, suddenly chilled. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

  He nodded toward the bed. “Rest well, and on the morrow you will feel better, I assure you.”

  He walked out the door, closing it behind him. Although excitement bounced in her chest, so did a different feeling. She’d never—that she could remember—felt so helpless than she had a moment earlier. His overpowering presence had caused her body to weaken in the worst way. If she stayed as his servant, she’d most certainly have to get rid of these ridiculous yearnings for his affection. Although she didn’t remember anything, she knew servants did not fall in love with their employers—especially dukes.

  * * * *

  The young woman is infatuated with me.

  Trevor groaned and covered his face with his hands as he leaned his elbows on the desk. Yesterday in her room had been a mistake. He should not have gone to visit her without one of the other maids present. He should not have sat so close, and he definitely should not have watched her walk in front of the hearth. The shadowy shape underneath her nightdress displayed a woman who was full grown.

  ‘Twas his own fault for being without a woman for so long. He’d been betrothed to Gwendolyn for over a year while her father and brother traveled abroad to settle business dealings, and so Trevor became celibate during that time to prepare for marriage. Once that moment came, he was disappointed. Gwen hadn’t been passionate, nor had she given him the smallest inkling that she enjoyed his kisses.

  It crushed him to think he’d chosen a wife who couldn’t participate in the marriage bed. He’d longed for a passionate woman to share his life with, and disappointment soon became his lonely companion. Gwen was not the woman he’d dreamed about.

  Shaking his head, he pushed the bad memories aside and tried to concentrate on his estate accounts. The ledger book open in front of him didn’t hold any interest, not when the mysterious stranger in his guestroom wouldn’t leave his mind.

  After he’d left her room yesterday, he’d felt like such a fool. Why had he looked at her like a love-starved man? And why had he touched her? Her hair was like satin against his fingers, and she smelled like roses. Of course, it was the way she gazed at him with such admiration in her eyes that was his undoing. Never had a woman looked at him this way.

  Having any kind of feelings for her was impossible, especially if he intended to keep her on as a servant. He was not—nor ever would be—the kind of man who dallied with servants. His father had been that sort of scoundrel, and at a young age, Trevor had vowed he’d never become like his sire. Trevor should dismiss Louisa once she gained her strength, but he didn’t want her to return to her former life. It wouldn’t be honorable to send her off into a world like that. Anyone who would whip a woman should be shot through the heart.

  Yet he couldn’t have her here to torment him. Her innocent eyes that sparkled whenever she smiled would be hard not to stare at, and her pouty heart-shaped lips were entirely too sensual for a mere maid. Once she became strong again and her body nourished as it should be, she’d become a temptation. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this…train her well and help her find employment elsewhere.

  Plain and simple, he could not have her disrupting his life.

  A knock on the door brought Trevor alert. “Enter.”

  Hobbs opened the door and stepped inside the room. “You have a visitor, my lord.” He handed the card to Trevor. “Viscount Putney is waiting in the drawing room.”

  Trevor gnashed his teeth and at the same time tried to keep from displaying his anger. Bile rose to his throat as his fingers tightened around the calling card. He wanted nothing to do with that man, except to shoot him between the eyes and pretend he’d never met him. Unfortunately, Trevor was a duke and needed to act accordingly.

  After taking a deep breath, he answered calmly, “I shall be there momentarily, Hobbs.”

  The butler nodded, turned and left the room. Trevor stared at the open door. What could Putney possibly want to talk about? It would be easier to wrap his fingers around the viscount’s throat and choke the very life out of him than tolerate his presence.

  Shaking his head, he recalled how his mother thought he had a big heart. She would faint dead away if she knew what wicked thoughts ran amuck through his head now.

  Trevor stood and kept his balled hands at his side as he strode from the room. The sooner he discovered what the man wanted, the sooner he could kick him out of his house once and for all.

  When he entered the drawing room, the tall, red-headed lord turned away from the large window and pierced Trevor with his stare. He almost laughed at his visitor’s expression—as if this was Viscount Putney’s home instead. Trevor wished the man would not covet everything in Trevor’s possession. Wasn’t it enough Putney was the last man to sleep with Gwen?

  Folding his arms across his chest, Trevor lifted his chin stubbornly. “Speak your piece and leave.”

  Putney squared his shoulders and narrowed his gaze. “I want to know why you treat the twins so poorly.”

  The comment caught Trevor off guard, and he almost laughed. Instead, he arched a critical eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

  “Are they mine?”

  Trevor marched toward the man, ready to throttle the creature. He stopped in front of Putney and scowled. “I wish I knew.”

  “One of my servants informed me yesterday that you are not certain that you are their father.”

  “And pray, how should your servant know this?”

  “She’s friends with Mrs. Jacobs, your nursemaid.”

  Bloody gossiping staff! “What I do or will not do with the children is no concern of yours.”

  “It is if they are mine.”

  Trevor’s hands itched to slam his fist into the man’s nose. How could Putney even think such a thing? “Has it slipped your mind that Adam and Amanda were born to my wife? Under the laws in England, that would mean the twins are my children, not yours.”

  “But you do not want them,” Putney sneered. “Clearly, by the way you have ignored the poor children; you wish they had not been born.” He lifted his chin as if to challenge Trevor. “On the other hand, I want them both. I want to be their father since I loved their mother so much. Amanda looks just like Gwen and I want to see her daily and be reminded of the love we once shared.” His eyes misted. “Gwen was not supposed to die.”

  “You are correct. She was supposed to live and care for her children. Unfortunately, there were other things that seemed more important to her…like carrying on an affair behind her husband’s back.” Trevor grumbled under his breath. Being reminded about the past literally churned his stomach, and looking upon Putney as if he deserved the twins’ love made Trevor want to vomit. “As it is, until I know who sired them, Adam and Amanda will remain in my home as my children. Is that clear?”

  “Abundantly, Your Grace.” Putney turned, and charged out the door.

  Inhaling deeply, Trevor tried to calm the anger and betrayal threatening to kill him. If he could have changed places with Gwen and been the one to die, he would have. Living a lie and knowing the scandal might ruin those children wasn’t worth this heartache. Trevor knew well what scandal does to children, since his own father had punished his family until his dying breath.

  Trevor stormed out of the room. Several of his servants lingered in the hallway, pretending to be doing something constructive. They didn’t meet his gaze, which told him they’d heard every word. Nevertheless, it wasn’t them he wanted to lash out on right now.

  “Mrs. Jacobs,” he hollered up the stairs.

  Up the staircase he ran, skipping every other step until he reached the second level. His legs ate up the space as he made his way to the nursery. Mrs. Jacobs was reading the children a book when he walked inside. The older woman’s
eyes widened and her face paled.

  “Might I have a word?” he growled.

  She nodded and looked at the twins. “Play with your blocks until I return.”

  Amanda switched her gaze between him and her nursemaid, nodding slowly. Adam followed instructions quickly without blinking an eye. Trevor stepped out of the room, not wanting the children to hear what he had to say. When Mrs. Jacobs closed the nursery door behind her, she looked at him with frightened eyes.

  “I will make this quick, so listen well. If I ever hear of you gossiping about my family or what goes on in this household again, I will dismiss you without a reference. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Those two children in there—” he pointed to the room— “should not have to be the ridicule of gossip. I will not have them growing up to have their peers whispering nonsense behind their backs. It does them more harm than you realize, and the last thing I want is for them to be hurt. Do you understand?”

  Mrs. Jacobs nodded again, flexing her hands by her side. “I understand.”

  “Good. See that you do not open your mouth unwisely again.”

  He turned and stomped back to his study, knowing he needed a strong drink very soon. As he passed Louisa’s room, he thought the door cracked open a bit, but he didn’t stop to look. Instead, a bottle of scotch was what he needed to calm his ire.

  When he entered his room, he slammed the door. The pictures on the wall shook. He cursed his life, hoping he would get so foxed that all the ache and pain would leave him to peace.

  Chapter Four

  “What do ye mean she’s missin’?” Richard Macgregor shouted at the insipid child in front of him. “Didn’t ye both leave for the same area the other night?”

  David cringed and shook his head. His dirty brown hair stuck to his ears and didn’t move at all. “That we did, sir—as we’ve done before—but we’ve never come back at the same time.” His Adam’s apple bobbed once. “I waited and waited for Louisa to come home, and when she didn’t, I went looking for her. I asked everyone, I did, and nobody seen her…not even once during the evening.” He shrugged. “She’s up and disappeared, I tell ye.”

  Anger rose inside Richard’s head and he bunched his hands into fists. “I highly doubt she was stupid enough to get herself caught by the police. She’s better than that.”

  “Aye, Mr. Macgregor. She’s a slippery as an eel…and she taught all of us how to hide or run away from getting caught.”

  “Just in case, I will have the gaol checked.” He flipped his hand through the air, causing David to flinch. “Now be off with ye. Time’s a wastin’ and you won’t be makin’ any money standin’ around talkin’ to me.”

  “Aye, sir.” The gawky youth fled out the door as fast as his worn-out shoes would carry him.

  Richard grumbled curses as he strutted into the room where all the children slept on a bedroll. All rolls were neatly folded and placed against the wall—even Louisa’s—but the children were gone to do their daily earnings. If Richard hadn’t been entertaining a certain harlot last night, he would have noticed when his prized pupil didn’t return home.

  “Augh.” He slammed his fist against the wall. He should have known Louisa would soon become a problem. After all, the older they grew, the more they gained a conscience and realized thieving for him was wrong.

  Richard had been in this business long enough to know the attitude pattern of those who worked for him, so he should have realized that Louisa was being more compliant…friendlier, and more eager to make him happy. She must have also assumed what he wanted to do with her. Girls her age were too old to pickpocket. Especially the pretty girls. They were better use to the older gents…the ones who would pay handsomely to have a willing wench in their bed for a night of pleasure. Even a few Madams were eyeing Louisa as someone they could add to their brothels.

  Richard needed her back immediately. Louisa brought in more money than the others. He couldn’t allow her to leave. He didn’t think she’d been caught. The girl was too clever for that. No…she was running, to be sure.

  Scurrying out of the room, he snapped curses on his way to the front door. He’d instruct the children to watch for her. He’d ask his friends as well. Richard would find that girl if it was the last thing he did—and when he found her, he’d punish her severely. She’d think twice about leaving him again.

  * * * *

  “I honestly don’t think I have ever been given a dress of such quality, Mrs. Smythe.” Louisa stared at herself in the full-length mirror. The black and white servant’s dress fit her body like a glove, and the soft material caressed her skin. Something told her she’d never owned such a dress. Happiness bubbled in her chest, for she was the luckiest girl in England. Truly, fate had smiled on her to put her in the Duke of Kensington’s path.

  Mrs. Smythe grinned wide as she watched Emma comb Louisa’s hair and wind it into a bun before placing a white cap over it. “Is this not so exciting?” Louisa asked the housekeeper. “I’m so very privileged to be a servant in such a household.” Louisa switched her gaze to Emma. “And I thank you for showing me how to fix my hair.”

  Emma bobbed her head. “My pleasure, Louisa.”

  “His lordship gave me the responsibility to find a place for you here.” Mrs. Smythe beamed. “We shall start you in the kitchen for now.” Her gaze ran over Louisa’s body. “Since you are so fond of the food, I believe that would be the place for you to start.”

  Louisa giggled and patted her stomach. “The food here is most delicious, I assure you.”

  “You have gained a little weight in a week’s time, I might add, which tells me you were certainly lacking.”

  “Indeed I was.” Louisa turned from side to side as she studied her body through the mirror. Why didn’t anything look familiar? Not even wearing a servant’s dress could shake her hidden memories.

  “Come. I’ll take you down and introduce you to the kitchen staff.”

  Mrs. Smythe led the way, out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Louisa’s steps weren’t as hurried as the other woman because she couldn’t stop admiring the decorations, statues, and paintings along the way. The duke certainly had a lovely home, and so very large. As they passed a room with an open door, she took a quick peek inside. The room stood empty, except for a few furnishings along the walls. A ballroom.

  Her thoughts came to a halt as did her footsteps. Yes, indeed this was a ballroom. In fact, even now she could hear the orchestra playing as her mind imagined couples dancing and sweeping around the room like a flutter of colorful butterflies.

  She closed her eyes as the vision grew. A little girl, standing back, watching...dreaming. The deep laughter of an older man as he picked her up in his arms and swung her around, making her feel like a princess. The image of his face was fuzzy, but he had curly blond hair and a square jaw. The little girl’s voice whispered the word, Father.

  Louisa snapped alert, her heart beating frantically. A throb in her forehead began, and the harder she tried to remember, the worse the pain became. Had she remembered something from her past?

  Realizing she’d been daydreaming, a sharp stab of panic pierced through her. Imbecile! Stop laggin’ behind and get to work or ye’ll be sorry! The warning echoed through her head, but it didn’t come from her voice. The man’s raspy tone chilled her bones and quickened her step to catch up with the housekeeper. She knew as sure as she breathed, that daydreaming was not an option.

  But why would she think about being in a ballroom? Apparently, she must have been a servant for a wealthy family and had witnessed the father dancing with his young daughter. She frowned. If only she could remember her own family. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to remember. Because of the scars on her back, she knew she hadn’t had a life of luxury—or a happy one.

  Determined to make His Grace proud, she squared her shoulders and quickened her pace.

  As she turned a corner, still trying to reach Mrs. Smythe, she walked into the muscu
lar figure of a man. His large hands grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling and she looked up into the startled eyes of Kensington. His rugged appearance and more-than-handsome face caused her to gasp. She hadn’t seen him since he’d visited her that night in her room, and she sorely missed looking at him these past several days.

  He ran his gaze over her as he stepped back. A smile pulled at his lips. “Louisa, it’s good to see you looking so well. I’m relieved to know you are up and about.”

  Quickly, she curtsied. “Forgive me for not seeing you—until I ran into you, that is.” She grinned. “Mrs. Smythe is taking me to meet the kitchen staff. That is where she wants me to start working.”

  “Splendid. I’m happy to see you are starting off right.” He motioned his hand toward the end of the hallway. “Do not let me keep you.”

  She curtsied again. “Thank you, Your Grace.” Although she didn’t want to take her eyes off him, she must. Pining away for the lord of the manor wasn’t healthy.

  Pulling herself away from his company was hard. She’d miss talking to him and seeing his sparkling eyes, and a smile tug at his tempting mouth. Yet it wasn’t her station in life to become his friend...only his servant. Whatever was in her past, she did know this—he would never be more than her employer.

  She hurried down the hall and met Mrs. Smythe just as she entered the kitchen. As the housekeeper made the introductions, Louisa listened closely to catch everyone’s name. Most had a French name. She should have suspected the duke would only hire French cooks. Francois, the head chef, stuck his nose in the air as if he didn’t want to be bothered by Louisa. She wanted to slap him for his rudeness.

  “Nice to meet you, Monsieur Francois,” she greeted as politely as she could.

  The overly-large cook grumbled and turned away from her, back to the stove. "Petite sotte. Pourquoi c'est moi qui doit être sa nourice?"

  She hitched a quick breath. For the nerve of that man! How dare he think he’d have to watch over her like a governess? Louisa huffed and planted her hands on her hips and replied, "Peut-être c'est moi qui est assignée de garder des coquins insipides."