* * *
Dawn had pinkened the mist on the Thames when Adrienne climbed into Lady Harms's ancient berlin. Her trunks were to travel separately, with her employer's belongings, but the berlin gained little speed from its lightened load. The coach was a load all by itself.
"I've never seen anything quite so extraordinary," Adrienne ventured as she surveyed her surroundings.
In its day, perhaps a half century ago, the berlin had doubtless been magnificent. Huge and ponderous, with the Harms coat of arms emblazoned on the door, it was meant to be a vehicle of luxury. The interior was roomy, with tattered decorations that were beaded, braided, and fringed.
"My late husband maintained that this was the only fit means of transportation for persons of quality," Lady Harms asserted. They were passing Green Park, where the cows were mooing to be milked. "Look under your seat, Miss Beau."
When Adrienne leaned forward, she discovered that she was sitting on a padded trunk. She lifted the lid momentarily and glimpsed lanterns, a small cooking stove, and a chamber pot inside.
"How very remarkable!" she exclaimed after regaining her seat. Her lace-turbaned companion nodded with satisfaction, but Adrienne held the private view that the berlin was so equipped because it could move only at a snail's pace. Passengers would be forced to live inside the coach for days—perhaps weeks!—and thus the stored items would become necessities rather than luxuries.
At least that hideous person is not traveling with us, she consoled herself. Luckily, the lesser servants, including abigails and footmen, were bundled into a third coach; only Lady Thomasina's companion accompanied her in the regal berlin.
"This is a near-perfect replica of the coach used by Marie Antoinette and the king during their attempted flight from France!" her ladyship announced.
Adrienne stifled a yawn. "Very... interesting."
"See here, my girl, you are not making any effort in the least to be good company!"
"I do apologize, my lady, but it's shockingly early! I'm something of a night owl...."
"I believe it is customary for hired companions to suppress such expressions of discomfort." Lady Thomasina gave her a decidedly sharp look, then sniffed. "It appears to be prodigious good fortune that we are to acquire another passenger at the Black Swan Inn! I have every confidence that he will make a better effort to entertain me."
Before Adrienne could take in the older woman's announcement, the berlin rumbled into the yard of a coaching inn, preceded by their outriders. Puzzled, she drew back the curtain and beheld Nathan Essex striding toward them.
"That, Miss Beau, is a fine figure of a man! Don't you agree?" As spellbound as a young girl, she added, "Furthermore, I perceive that Mr. Essex is in his element at this early hour."
Adrienne gaped inelegantly. How on earth had that knave managed to acquaint himself with Lady Thomasina and squirm into her good graces? "I—how—"
"Mr. Essex paid me a call and explained a bit of your situation, persuading me to allow him to protect both of us." The old woman beamed and raised her jewel-encrusted quizzing glass. "I'd be a fool to refuse such a delicious offer, particularly given the dearth of entertainment one usually suffers at Harms Castle. You, my girl, must surrender to the inevitable and be grateful that your father thinks enough of you to enlist Mr. Essex's services."
Adrienne's head was spinning, and Nathan was about to open the coach door. "But why must he ride with us?"
"Because it amuses me."
A wild sort of energy came into their midst when Nathan climbed aboard. His wide shoulders seemed to fill Adrienne's vision, and his clean male scent filled the air. As he settled into the space beside her, he turned bespectacled eyes on her that snapped with all manner of wit.
"I knew I would enjoy this!" Lady Thomasina proclaimed, beaming. "If I were smaller, I would ask you to sit by me."
"I would that that were possible, my lady," he replied, then gave Adrienne a dark look, murmuring, "We meet again, my charge."
She was incensed by the way he bent his head in mock deference. "Pray do not forget your station, Mr. Essex."
"If you will not forget yours, Miss Beau," came his retort, and it pricked her. "We are both paid employees of those more fortunate than we, are we not?"
Fuming, Adrienne pressed her lips together, turned her body away from him, and stared out the window as the berlin rolled back onto the road.
"Once again I must express my appreciation, my lady," He said to Adrienne's mistress. "Perhaps your companion neglected to tell you that she has received threatening messages from her former employer, who made improper advances toward her when she was governess to his children. Although it would seem that she will be safe in your household, her father is concerned and wants to be certain also that no danger comes to you, my lady. As I have mentioned, it would be my honor to look after both of you."
The old woman appeared to swoon momentarily. "How gallant you are, sir."
"Not at all. Now then, how would you prefer to pass our journey, my lady? We could have a game of cards, or—" Nathan reached into his pocket and brought out a worn, travel-sized volume of Ivanhoe. "—I could read aloud, if you like."
Lady Thomasina's rouged cheeks reddened further, and she sighed, ecstatic. "I wonder if you do not misrepresent yourself, Mr. Essex! Perhaps you are a scholar in disguise."
"I fear not." He dipped his head, but his eyes twinkled. "I am merely conscious of the courtesy you do me by allowing me close access to my... charge." Raveneau slipped his hand around Adrienne's wrist and gently held her until she squirmed free, blushing. "I would make myself useful in return."
"Delightful." Her ladyship beamed. "Simply irresistible. Don't you agree, Miss Beau? Yes, of course you do. And we shall have Ivanhoe. Do begin, Mr. Essex. Your audience is rapt."
He opened the book and obeyed in tones laced with amusement. " 'In that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by the river Don...' "
Adrienne heard his voice through a mist of confused embarrassment. Her wrist burned where Nathan's fingers had encircled it, and she felt the persistent, steely line of his thigh, even through her gown and pelisse. Did he mean to press against her? Cheeks flaming hotter at the thought, Adrienne clenched her teeth. She reminded herself that he was only a servant, a hired guard, and ought to be respectful to her. After all, her father was paying him to take care of her! There had to be a way to force him to treat her with the same sort of respect he paid Lady Thomasina Harms.
It galled her that he made her think such things. Adrienne despised aristocrats who put on airs and pretended they were somehow above untitled folk, and yet here she was, longing to put Nathan Essex in his place. Why was he so infuriating?
As the procession of vehicles wound deeper into the verdant Hampshire hills, her ladyship interrupted Nathan from time to time in order to scold her young companion. "Are you listening, Miss Beau? Sit up straight, child, and show some breeding!"
Was Adrienne mad, or did she feel the pressure of his thigh intensify at such moments?
Chapter 3
When dawn broke at Harms Castle for the fourth morning since Adrienne's arrival, she lay in her narrow bed and realized that she profoundly regretted every decision she had made leading up to that moment. How many times did she have to entangle herself in wretched coils before she would learn to listen to voices of reason?
Her body ached with fatigue. She might be paralyzed—but couldn't be that fortunate. Adrienne knew that she was perfectly healthy, and so she must crawl out of bed, bathe with cold water, dress, and begin one more endless day of servitude.
Lady Thomasina Harms's own schedule was considerably less taxing. She favored an array of bizarre pastimes, which Adrienne had glimpsed that first night in London, when her ladyship hinted about her color-and-size Systems. They were currently being practiced in the sprawling library at Harms Castle. Lady Thomasina spent most of each evening there, making precarious stacks of bottle-green or blood-red books, aided by her
reluctant companion.
"My husband insisted on grouping the books alphabetically," her ladyship would complain as yet another pile of old books got too tall and toppled over. "Can you imagine? We had horrible rows about it, and I could scarcely wait to organize them all with a real system. Of course, he's only been dead a few months, and it may take years."
Then, long past midnight, she would waddle off to bed, leaving trails of powder from her wig. Lady Thomasina liked to sleep late and have a leisurely breakfast in bed. Adrienne, meanwhile, quickly discovered that she was expected to rise with the rest of the household staff and "get down to business" making more precarious piles of colored books.
On this fourth morning, as she finally managed to fasten her own gown, a sharp knock came at her door. Lady Thomasina's tallow-faced abigail, Hortie, seemed to delight in rousting the newest servant out of bed. Each day Adrienne rose earlier, and each day Hortie arrived earlier. Adrienne wished she didn't have to answer. The rapping only grew more insistent, however, forcing her to yank open the door to the corridor.
"I'm coming!" she cried. "Why can't you—" Her voice broke off at the surprisingly welcome sight of Nathan Essex.
"Yes?" A slow smile crept up to his eyes.
"I thought you were Hortie."
"I'm not. I begged to come in her stead."
"Hortie hates me because Lady Thomasina's given me her old chamber, and now she's forced to sleep in the dismal servants' quarters." Adrienne walked back into the narrow room, which adjoined her ladyship's grand suite, in search of hairpins and a ribbon. "I despise this place! I should have listened to my father."
Boldly Nathan closed the door and followed her. "You only say that because he cannot hear you recant."
"Well, I would like to know, where have you been? What are you being paid to do, frequent the taverns in Winchester?" She brushed her hair furiously.
"Have you missed me?"
"Only in the way that misery misses company, sir! Eternity in Hell could not be worse than twenty hours of each day spent taking books from shelves and sorting them by color and size, while listening to Lady Thomasina's tirades!" She spoke in a ragged whisper, aware that only a heavy door separated them from her ladyship's bedchamber. "At least you might help me!"
"The night we arrived, supped, and were shown our rooms, you made it quite clear that you preferred to be spared another moment of my company—"
"I had just spent an entire day in your lap, while you read Ivanhoe!" she protested.
"You were not in my lap, Miss Beau. I would remember it clearly if you had been." He removed his spectacles and began to polish them.
She felt his eyes roam over her in a way that made her breathless and warm. Nathan was clad in a loose white shirt, a worn cravat, and the familiar buff breeches paired with top boots that needed shining. Yet his appeal was shockingly potent.
His hair gleamed. Glossy and black, it was recklessly long, curling over his collar. Adrienne, who had been overwhelmed by exhausted boredom, knew a spark of interest. She hated him but welcomed the diversion.
Feigning contrition, she sighed. "I know I was not in your lap, but I felt awfully closed in during our journey. Perhaps my manners suffered."
Manners? Nathan thought, wildly amused. "Have you grown new manners since arriving at Harms Castle?"
"Must you be so relentlessly infuriating?"
He laughed and watched as she lifted her slim arms and fashioned a soft knot of chestnut curls atop her head. Feathery baby tendrils trailed along the nape of her neck. He was sorely tempted. "I was right all along. You don't like me."
"Not in the least," she agreed. "However, if I must perform acts of slavery in my role as servant, you might as well join me. My shoulders ache beyond reason, so if nothing else, you can lift the books."
"A thrilling plan."
* * *
Harms Castle was only a few decades old, built by Lady Thomasina's father-in-law with a fortune acquired through an advantageous marriage. Located a half-dozen miles from the ancient town of Winchester, the Nash-designed country house was nestled into a lush fold of hills and bordered by the trout-filled River Itchen.
Adrienne found the maze of rooms confusing, since they all seemed to look alike and the arrangement was much different from that of her family's chateau where she had grown up.
Harms Castle featured a great entry hall, a saloon, a drawing room, a long gallery, a dining room, and, of course, the infamous library. The west wing consisted of apartments, most of which were vacant, since Lady Thomasina was the only noble in residence.
She was catered to by a score of servants, ranging from the house steward, butler, and cook, to housemaids, liveried footmen, and scullery maids. Yet either the staff was too small for the castle's size, or they were lazy, or they were not instructed to clean properly, for the place was as rundown and musty as the berlin Lady Thomasina preferred for travel.
Adrienne regarded her new state of servitude as odd indeed. Although well born, she had always been too spirited to enjoy lolling about, so she had not expected to be put off by physical work. However, Lady Thomasina's tasks were tiresome, because they were queer, pointless, and demanding.
Walking with Nathan to the servants' dining room, Adrienne was brightening already, though she would never admit that to him. They breakfasted on grayish porridge with Hortie, some housemaids, and Jarrow, the fat butler who looked like a man overly fond of spirits. It was Hortie who reminded Adrienne that her ladyship expected work to begin in the library by six o'clock. Nathan casually rose and followed her.
Climbing a dark staircase from the servants' wing, she glanced back at him. "What are you up to now?"
"I'm going to help you, just as you asked. You don't really object to my company—do you?"
He knew just how to get under her skin and turn it pink. "I have discovered that even your company is welcome in this godforsaken place. Besides, Papa is paying you, isn't he?"
"Handsomely."
"It seems that neither of us has a choice."
Adrienne watched as he paused in the arched corridor to examine a painting by Fragonard. What a puzzle Nathan Essex was! He seemed misplaced somehow in his decidedly middle-class clothing and occupation, and Adrienne had to remind herself continually that he was probably someone her father had met at a cockfight or in a pub on the docks.
"Well, then, if Papa is paying you to watch me, where were you these past three days? I have realized that you didn't give me a proper answer when I asked earlier."
He glanced back at her, one dark brow arching slightly. "I had business in town. Perhaps you might consider the possibility that protecting you involves more than standing in your shadow."
"I see." How dare he be secretive? After all, in one way, he was working for her, wasn't he? Whirling, Adrienne walked down the corridor and entered the library, wishing she could lock Nathan out. It was especially galling that he could come and go as he pleased in view of her punishing descent into the serving class.
"Tell me how I can help you."
How could she resist? All morning long, Adrienne sent him up the ladders in search of more bottle-green books, and it did her heart good to watch as he tried to carry stacks down while maintaining his balance. Once, when it appeared that a particularly large armload would break free and crash to the floor, Adrienne intervened to hold the volumes in place long enough for Nathan to reach the threadbare carpet safely.
"This is a magnificent house, but it certainly needs more upkeep," he remarked.
"You should see Lady Thomasina's home in Cavendish Square. I wonder if she does not prefer cobwebs and tarnished brass...."
Nathan fingered the draperies and bit his lip. "And moth-eaten fabrics?"
"I've awakened each night to the sound of mice in my walls," Adrienne confessed in a whisper.
"I'll suggest to the house steward that a rat catcher be called. I am surprised that one isn't on staff." He glanced up in time to see Lady Thomasina herself t
rundling into the library. She was clad in an old-fashioned gown made of fraying striped silk and distinguished by a creaking set of paniers. A Welsh terrier followed in her wake, a chicken wing clutched between his bared teeth.
"At last you have deigned to join us, Mr. Essex!" her ladyship exclaimed.
Adrienne rejoined: "It seems that my protector has been at his leisure these past days, since his own employer, my father, is in France now and knows not whether I am being guarded."
"Sweeten your tongue, Miss Beau, or you shall drive him away again, and then you'll have only a mad old woman for company!"
Adrienne reddened, but Nathan laughed, as if it were all a jest. He stepped forward, sketched a bow, and lifted Lady Thomasina's hand for a brief kiss. "I can only say, in my own defense, that there is more to keeping Miss Beauvisage from danger than standing beside her. A related matter took me to Winchester."
"So gallant!" her ladyship pronounced, while Adrienne privately suspected that he had been passing his time with a local strumpet.
"And now that I am with you both again, I must inquire after your comfort. Are you feeling safe and secure, Lady Thomasina?"
"Infinitely more so now that you have returned, sir." She allowed him to help her into an old velvet tub-shaped chair, then called to the terrier. "Angus, darling, come to Mummy with your sweet little bone." When the dog had obeyed, Lady Thomasina returned her attention to Nathan. "Angus was one of his lordship's six Christian names, and when I gave it to my pet, it quite annoyed him. Every time he heard me call out to dear Angus, his face would turn blood-red. Apoplectic fits, I'd venture. The poor fellow was completely lacking in humor...."
Adrienne didn't know what to do, so she sidled over to the worktable, leaned over the newest stacks of books, and made a show of counting them. Nathan Essex had apparently lost interest in helping her, for he seemed perfectly content to sit close to Lady Thomasina and make amusing conversation. Soon even Angus had traded his smelly chicken bone for a nap on Nathan's booted foot.
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