by Leah Conolly
Duncan smiled.
“I am glad to hear it,” he said.
“She said that she would come tomorrow or the day after to speak with you about work,” Christine said.
Duncan chuckled.
“She wants to be sure that I am not a tyrant of a boss,” he teased.
Christine blushed.
“She is very shy,” she said. “She just wanted to be sure that all went well for me before she got her hopes up.”
Duncan nodded.
“That is perfectly fine, Miss Becker,” he said. “In the meantime, I am very glad to have you here.”
Duncan watched her blush deepen, once more noticing her beauty.
“I am very grateful for the opportunity, my lord,” she said.
After breakfast, Duncan set her about her first tasks. She seemed comfortable with Duncan supervising her while she worked, and he was thrilled for the opportunity to do so. None of the tasks she would be doing were particularly difficult, and she was very quick to learn.
In fact, Duncan had to do very little in the way of explaining what he wanted, or how he wanted it done. She worked efficiently and was eager to move on to the next task as soon as she had finished. He knew he had made a wise decision to hire her, and he hoped that she would choose to stay on with him for a long time.
Christine’s first day of work ended too soon, and Duncan felt the now familiar disappointment at the idea of her impending departure. Since she had been working all day, he had not wished to distract her by engaging her in conversation. Nevertheless, he truly wanted to learn more about her. As Christine approached him after finishing her last task for the day, Duncan thought quickly.
“You have done an excellent job today,” he said, smiling warmly.
Christine smiled, clearly proud of her work.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said.
“Would you allow me to pay for your dinner tonight, to say thank you?” he asked. “Ruthie, too, of course.”
Christine laughed.
“My lord, I believe that the salary you are paying me is a more than sufficient show of gratitude,” she said.
Duncan laughed.
“You are quite right,” he said. “Still, you must eat until you receive your first payment, correct?”
Christine nodded.
“Yes, we must,” she said. “But we still have a small amount of money. You have already done so much for us. We could not ask for anything further.”
“You are not asking, Miss Becker,” Duncan said warmly. “I am not only offering, I am insisting. Please, won’t you and Ruthie dine with me tonight?”
Christine blushed. The glow made her more beautiful still, and Duncan prayed she would agree.
“If you insist, my lord,” Christine said, smiling up at him. “Then how could we refuse?”
“Wonderful,” Duncan said. He gathered his coat and gestured to the front door. “Shall we?”
* * *
When they arrived at the inn, Christine rushed up the stairs to retrieve Ruth. Duncan waited in the foyer, nodding a greeting to the woman behind the desk. She smiled, then returned to her paperwork. After a few moments, Christine and Ruthie descended the stairs. Ruthie was blushing and kept her eyes cast downward. Christine, however, looked as though she had freshened up a little, and was smiling.
Duncan bowed when the women approached.
“Good evening, Ruthie,” he said, looking kindly at the maid.
Ruthie curtseyed, daring to glance up at Duncan.
“Good evening, my lord,” she said. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”
“Not at all, Ruthie,” he said. Then he looked at Christine. “Are we ready?”
Christine nodded. He offered her his arm and showed them into the inn’s dining room.
The place was moderately crowded, but they had no trouble finding a table. Duncan led the women to sit by one of the large windows and held out their chairs for them. Then he chose his own seat, conveniently beside Christine. The women were looking around in awe, and Duncan’s smile saddened. What had they been through before he found them?
“This is a lovely place, my lord,” Ruth breathed.
Christine nodded in agreement.
“It is beautiful,” she said.
Duncan smiled.
“The food is also exquisite,” he said.
“Do you own this establishment, too?” Christine asked.
Duncan shook his head.
“No,” he said. “But one of my friends does.”
“He certainly does a wonderful job,” she said.
“That he does,” Duncan agreed.
When the meals and wine arrived at their table, Duncan raised his glass. The two women exchanged a look, then raised their own.
“A toast to your decision to stow away in my shipping crate,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
The women giggled in unison and raised their glasses. They all took a sip of the wine and began partaking of their meals.
“So, Miss Becker,” Duncan said, while they ate. “Where are you from?”
Christine paused, her face unreadable. She finished taking the bite he had disrupted and chewed slowly. She gently placed her fork down beside her plate and smiled at him.
“I grew up in Plymouth,” she said.
Beside her, Ruthie began coughing. Duncan started to rise to assist her, but she held up her hand. She took a long sip from her wine and then smiled sheepishly at Duncan.
“Do forgive me, my lord,” she said, her cheeks a deep crimson. “It was just a rogue bite of beef.”
Duncan studied her for a moment, trying to assure himself that she was alright. At last, he sat down again, and offered Ruthie his handkerchief. She politely declined, pulling her own out of her dress pocket.
“I have one,” she said, her voice hoarse from the choking fit. “Thank you kindly, my lord.”
“Of course,” he said, at last moving his gaze back to Christine. She had put her hand on the maid’s shoulder, and her face was as red as Ruthie’s.
“Are you alright?” Christine asked, concerned.
Ruth nodded.
“I am fine now,” she whispered. “Thank you both.”
She and Christine exchanged a look that he could not read, and then she smiled weakly at Duncan.
“I am just glad that you are well,” he said. He poured the maid a little more wine. She smiled gratefully at him and took another long drink, and Christine followed suit.
Once he was sure that Ruthie was alright, he turned back to Christine.
“Have you worked for anyone else in the ton?” he asked.
Christine tilted her head.
“Will a lack of professional experience affect my employment with you?” she asked.
Duncan shook his head.
“Not at all,” he said. “I was merely curious as to any experience you might have had previously.”
Christine shook her head slowly.
“I have none,” she said.
Duncan nodded.
“Do you spend a lot of time socializing within the ton, then?” he asked.
Christine blanched. She took another sip of wine before answering him.
“I do not do much socializing at all,” she said.
Duncan frowned.
“A shame,” he said. “Why is that?”
Christine fidgeted in her seat. Ruth was looking at her warily from the corner of her eye.
“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not see what my social habits have to do with my employment,” she said.
Duncan blinked. Her voice had been soft, not sharp or harsh, but her words had caught him off guard. It was becoming clear that she was uncomfortable answering questions about herself, and Duncan worried that he had pried too much. He looked at her and smiled sheepishly.
“Of course, Miss Becker,” he said. “You are quite right. Forgive me for asking so many questions.”
Christine blushed, avoiding his gaze while she pushed her foo
d around on her plate.
“No,” she said. “You have every right to ask someone you have hired any question you wish. It is just that I am rather dull. There is not much of interest about me, and it will likely only bore you.”
Duncan studied her thoughtfully. Somehow, he doubted very much that there was nothing of interest about Christine, but, for some reason, she did not trust him enough to open up. However, he knew that he would not earn her trust by continuing to press her, no matter how badly he wished to know her better.
At last, he smiled.
“Well,” he said. “There is nothing wrong with being a little reserved and predictable.”
Christine met his eyes then, her lips curling up into a smirk.
“Oh,” she said. “I never said that I was predictable. A predictable person would not have climbed inside of a shipping crate to get aboard a stranger’s ship.”
Duncan laughed.
“A fair point,” he said. “Nevertheless, I will not pry into your business any further.”
Christine smiled at him gratefully.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said.
Duncan smiled and nodded in response, then turned his attention back to his plate. The rest of the meal was full of lighthearted conversation and delicious food and wine, but he could not stop trying to understand Christine. He did not know what it was that was holding her back from confiding in him, but he hoped that in time she would come to trust him. There was something about her that intrigued him, and she was incredibly beautiful. He would indeed cease his prying, but he would not give up on getting to know the lovely young woman.
Chapter 7
Charlotte and Ruth had hardly closed the door to their room behind them before Ruth put her hands on Charlotte’s shoulders.
“Are you raving mad?” she asked, her eyes wide.
Charlotte shook her head, trying to keep calm and find a way to explain herself.
“No, Ruth,” she said. “He caught me off guard, and I could hardly take the time to come up with lies for every question he asked.”
Ruth shook her head, studying Charlotte.
“What if he starts asking after a woman named Christine Becker from Plymouth?” she asked. “Or about any of the other things you told him?”
Charlotte thought about how warm and trusting Duncan was, and how kind he had been to her earlier that day. The memory calmed her, and she gently removed Ruth’s hands from her arms.
“We need to tell as much of the truth as we can, even in this situation,” Charlotte said, her voice low and calm. “It will not do to continue spinning tales so tall and intricate that we get lost in them. I despise lying as it is, especially to such a kind man.” She smiled. “Besides, Lord Willeton has proven to be very generous and compassionate, and not exactly the prying type.”
Ruth seemed to calm down, too. She nodded, a small smile spreading across her face.
“How was it?” she asked. “Is he truly as kind as he seemed on the docks?” she asked.
Charlotte patted her hand.
“He is even kinder than he first appeared,” she said. “He is wonderful to work for, and he took no issue with your choice in waiting to come speak with him. Which is why I am telling you not to worry so much.”
Ruth put her hand on her chest and sighed with relief.
“And the house?” she asked. “How is it?”
Charlotte took a deep breath, recalling vividly every detail of the estate.
“It is incredible,” she said. “Such rich colors, and so grand.”
Ruth clasped her hands in her lap, a dreamy expression on her face.
“We certainly are fortunate,” she said.
Charlotte nodded, trying to ignore the tugging at her heart. She knew that their good fortune was tenuous, and that it all depended on their lies.
“We deserve it,” she said. She knew well that Ruth deserved it. She just wished that she could believe that she did as well.
The next morning, Ruth decided that she would go with Charlotte to speak with Duncan. The two women hurried to ready themselves, and Charlotte rushed them into the carriage.
Duncan had been pleased that she had arrived early the previous morning, and she wanted to ensure that they would repeat that behavior. When they arrived, the butler greeted the women and led them into the breakfast room where Duncan was seated. As the two women entered the room, Duncan leapt from his chair, a wide smile on his face.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said, rushing to greet them. He bowed to Ruth. “It is wonderful to see you again, Ruthie.”
Ruth curtseyed, flushing.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said softly. “I hope we arrived at a good time.”
Duncan nodded enthusiastically.
“It is a perfect time,” he said. “Please, join me for breakfast.”
The two women shared an excited look, then accepted Duncan’s invitation.
That day went as smoothly as the one before. Ruth settled into her work, helping pen letters, and making preparations for the servants whom Duncan asked to run errands.
By the end of the day, Ruth was beaming, and Charlotte’s heart warmed. She was glad to see her maid and friend getting on so well. Duncan had been every bit as kind to Ruth as he had been to Charlotte the previous day, and Charlotte began to think that they would be all right.
In the following days, the three of them settled into a routine. They had breakfast with Duncan most mornings, and then they began their work. The women began to become acquainted with several of the servants, and Charlotte found them all very pleasant and warm. Duncan was often gone for several hours during the day attending to business in town, but, when he was there, Charlotte often caught him watching her, a look of admiration on his face. She did a fair bit of looking at him, too. She could not ignore how handsome he was, and his blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with warmth and happiness. When she was not glancing at him, he occupied most of her thoughts. She wondered if perhaps fate had crossed their paths for another purpose, aside from providing her asylum from a future she could not bear to live.
She smiled one day, as she sorted through the items on Duncan’s desk. He was already quite neat and organized, and it hardly seemed as though he needed someone to keep things tidy for him.
Even before he left on business, it never took her long to organize his desk and office. If she did not know better, she would have thought that he intentionally ensured her job was simple by cleaning up himself at the end of every day. The two things of which she was completely certain was that she thoroughly enjoyed working for him, and that she enjoyed his company more every day. Indeed, she found that she missed him when he left to conduct business, and she looked forward to his return.
As she thought about Duncan, Charlotte felt a twist of guilt in her stomach. It was clear that he was quickly coming to trust her, and she was very happy working for him. However, the lie she had told him nagged at her, taking away from what should have been a great relief.
She was no longer betrothed to a man she dreaded marrying, she had a good job, and she was free to live her own life, but the taint of her dishonesty hung over her like a dark cloud, and she hoped that it would not be the downfall of her newfound happiness.
To cheer herself up, Charlotte began to hum as she organized Duncan’s desk. She could not know what the future might hold, but she was determined to focus on the present and take one day at a time. Her efforts were successful, and, within moments, she was humming loudly. So loudly, in fact, that the sharp rap on Duncan’s study door startled her, and she dropped a stack of papers on the floor. She glanced up and saw a stern-looking woman standing in the doorway. Charlotte flushed, too surprised to say anything.
The woman frowned.
“Where is my son?” she asked.
Charlotte blinked, confused.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked weakly.
The woman’s scowl deepened.
“You stand in my son’s office
, and yet you do not know where he is?” she asked.
Charlotte took a shaky breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She gave the woman a small smile.
“Forgive me, my lady,” she said with a curtsy. “I did not recognize you as Lord Willeton’s mother.”
The woman huffed, brushing a strand of straight black hair from her eerily pale face.
