by Anna Bradley
“Pea?”
She glanced at Mr. Reed and her face warmed considerably in embarrassment. “She had trouble saying Pleasant when she was younger, so it was shortened to sort of a nickname. It kind of stuck.”
He reached out and touched a strand of her hair. “It suits you.” His gaze warmed. “We’re still under the mistletoe, you know.”
Pleasant couldn’t reply, speech had promptly deserted her. And when he lowered his head to hers, she closed her eyes, anticipating his kiss. But just as her heart was about to pound out of her chest, his lips landed softly on her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He opened the door on a gust of cold, December wind, and disappeared into the night.
***
Pleasant jerked awake the next afternoon. She readjusted herself on the stool and narrowed her eyes on the stitch she’d been trying to make for the past ten minutes, but again, her eyes started to grow heavy. By the time she’d collected the laundry and hung it up to dry, it was nearly three in the morning. She didn’t even make it up to her bed, but collapsed in her mother’s chair by the fire and managed to catch a couple hours of sleep.
She had regretted the dark circles that were shadowed beneath her eyes, but since there was no help for it, she had pinched her cheeks to try to heighten the color and set out for the shop. Sleep could wait. Work could not.
“Miss Hill.”
Pleasant was in the midst of a rather lovely fantasy involving a particularly handsome man with mesmerizing green eyes when she heard her name being called. “Hmmm,” she sighed.
“Miss Hill.” This time the voice sounded annoyed.
Strange. In her dream—
Her eyes popped open and she quickly lifted her head from the table where she’d been caught napping. “Mr. Reed!” she gasped. “I’m terribly sorry, I—”
He was staring at her in that intimidating way he had, his arms crossed over his firm chest. “You went out after I left last night, didn’t you?”
Attacked by a sudden, wide yawn, she covered her mouth with her hand and didn’t even try to deny it. “Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
She blinked, her mind obviously still hazy.
“You told me ladies take an evening off now and then,” he clarified.
“I’m sure they do if they are part of society,” she returned. “Unfortunately when every shilling counts, there’s no such thing as a holiday.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sizable purse and tossed it on the table next to her. “Cancel any more wash that you have from now until Christmas. I can’t have you neglecting your duties here because you can’t even stay awake.”
“I can’t do that, Mr. Reed. I’ll lose all the customers I’ve tried to obtain—”
“I’ll make sure you have gainful employment when your services here are no longer required,” he cut in. “As you say, I have some rather influential contacts.” He gestured to the purse. “Consider that an advance of your wages.”
Pleasant was tempted to accept his offer, more than tempted, really. If she never washed another soiled piece of linen in her life, it would be too soon. But as experience had shown her through the years, kindness always came with a price. “What do you want in return for your help?”
He snorted. “Should I require anything?”
“No, but I just thought—”
“You’re welcome, Miss Hill.” He turned around, but said over his shoulder. “I trust you can complete at least one pair of shoes by the end of the day.”
Pleasant smiled, although he couldn’t see it. “Yes, Mr. Reed.”
***
That night, after Pleasant left, Cornell had a surprise guest.
He had just finished putting his tools away where there was a knock at the shop door. “We’re closed,” he called out, but the patron was persistent, for they didn’t go away, merely knocked even louder.
Grumbling under his breath, Cornell intended to give the intruder a piece of his mind, but stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the face beyond the frosted glass.
Lord Haverton.
His brother.
With a heavy sigh, he unlocked the door but didn’t move out of the way so the earl could pass through. Narrowing his eyes irritably at the features that were so like his own, he waited for the other man, who was only three years younger, to speak.
After a moment of shivering in the icy wind, Xavier asked, “Might we be allowed to converse where it’s a bit warmer?”
Cornell stepped to the side and waved a hand.
“Thank you.”
He shut the door but didn’t lock it back behind Lord Haverton. He didn’t plan on the man staying that long. The earl walked over to the fire and held out his gloved hands toward the flame. “I’ve heard several compliments about your work of late.”
Cornell remained by the door but couldn’t keep a laugh from escaping. “Don’t tell me you’re here for a pair of boots? Just because we may be blood related doesn’t mean you get special treatment.”
“No. I’m not here for any footwear,” the earl countered, as he turned back around to face him. “How is your assistant faring? I assume she told you what happened at Madame LeFleur’s?”
“She did, actually,” Cornell returned. “And I’m still torn about giving the lady a piece of my mind.”
“As am I,” his brother admitted. “Although, I fear the Home Office wouldn’t like my interference when I’m supposed to be on covert business to learn more about who might be causing trouble within the livery halls.”
“So you’re here, hoping I might have a lead as to who’s responsible.” It wasn’t a question.
Xavier eyed him silently for a moment. “That would be helpful, yes. But no, it’s not my purpose in seeking you out. As a member of the Worshipful Company of Mercers, due to my interest in the East India trade, I will uncover the truth sooner or later.”
“I have no doubt. Men in your position have unlimited resources at your disposal.” Cornell hadn’t wanted to sound bitter or resentful, for the man standing before him hadn’t proven he was like their father in any way, but he still didn’t trust the aristocracy. Their mettle had been tested and found lacking more times than he cared to count. During his time as a naval captain, he’d treated duke’s sons and butcher’s brothers alike, even if the former liked to act as though they were superior simply because of an accident of birth. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out Cornell treated everyone equally.
As if reading his mind, the earl said quietly, “I’m not your enemy, Cornell. I’ve told you more times than I can say that it was wrong of father to treat you as he did, to shut you out of his life completely. If I would have known of your existence years ago—” He swallowed. “The point is, while I’m not trying to make up for our sire’s failings, I would like to recognize you as my relation—”
“You already know my answer to that.” Cornell’s gaze hardened. “It hasn’t changed in six months, since the first day you appeared on my doorstep.”
His brother sighed. “I’d still like for you to meet my wife, Althea, and to get to know your niece and nephew.” He smiled. “If you could only see Louisa and Frederick…” His voice trailed off, and Cornell saw the pride on his face. It was obvious he was a big presence in his children’s lives.
Although it also engaged Cornell’s heart that Xavier was trying to get him to be a part of their life, their worlds just didn’t coincide that easily. They were like oil and water. It just didn’t mix. In the end, he just said, “I’ll consider it,” knowing that it would never happen.
Xavier glanced down at the floor. “Then I suppose I’ll have to accept that.” He walked over to Cornell and held out his hand. After a brief pause, he took the offering. “Goodbye, Cornell.”
He nodded. “Lord Haverton.” It wasn’t until his brother opened the door, that he added, “If I hear anything about the guild hall, I’ll send word.”
The younger man’s face softened
. “I would appreciate that.”
And then he was gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
The following week passed by rather uneventfully for Pleasant. Since she hadn’t had to constantly cover her hands in lye, she noticed that they weren’t quite as red and raw as they had been a few days ago. The house also smelled much nicer without the stench, and with the advance Mr. Reed had given her she’d bought a bit of greenery to wind around the staircase bannister. The scent of evergreen was much more festive, and slowly but surely, the interior was starting to look a bit more cheery. Even her siblings, Niall included, were starting to appear less strained.
In the evenings, Pleasant spent more time with her stepmother, and she assisted with the mending, easing the burden just a little bit more.
She hadn’t fallen asleep at the shop anymore, and it had become something of a habit for her and Mr. Reed to share lunch together; at least, when they had time to do so. The number of special orders had increased dramatically, and they seldom had two words to say to one another during the day, each too busy with their own tasks. But occasionally, he would make something in his rooms above the shop and bring it down to them, while other times, she might bring a light, picnic style meal from home. Their conversation was usually simple, either remarking about the weather, what still needed to be done, or something equally mundane. But even if a silence did fall, it wasn’t awkward or stilted, but just…companionable.
It wasn’t until Pleasant left the following Saturday that she mentioned taking Fiona and her brothers to the park. “You’re welcome to join us, if you wish.”
“I’ll consider it,” was all he’d said, so she had assumed that meant no.
To her surprise, he knocked on the door bright and early the next morning. He had a rather sheepish expression as he held up a package. “I brought breakfast.”
Inside were several of those delicious bakery scones, and Pleasant’s stomach instantly rumbled. After she’d passed some around to the rest of her family, she bit into the sweet, flaky crust and sighed in delight. “This is just as heavenly as I recall.”
“They are quite good,” he concurred from where he sat beside her, and then he lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “But the sounds you make when you eat them are even better.”
Pleasant nearly choked on the bite she’d just taken, his wicked laughter sending off a flurry of butterflies in her midsection.
Once they had finished their treat, Pleasant rounded up all her siblings and went to her stepmother and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. “We’ll be back later this afternoon.”
Pleasant was surprised yet again when Mr. Reed hailed a hackney. Her brothers and Fiona climbed inside, but he waited to assist her. “You surely didn’t think we’d walk all the way to Hyde Park?”
It wouldn’t have been the first time for Pleasant, although such excursions were generally few and far between anyway. During the summer, she’d been buried in laundry, so she’d seldom had any time to herself, let alone any for a frivolous outing.
Now, as she sat next to Mr. Reed, with her excited siblings across from her, she thought of how she might thank her employer for his thoughtfulness. But as his leg suddenly shifted to brush hers through her skirts, any further contemplation scattered like autumn leaves in the wind.
The hackney soon deposited them at the gates leading to the park, and Niall, Connor, and Fiona all bounded out of the vehicle. “Be careful and keep an eye on your sister!” Pleasant called after them. “And don’t go too far!”
Mr. Reed stepped to the ground and assisted her down. “You’re quite the mother hen, aren’t you?” He offered her his arm, and as the hackney rolled away, they began to meander through the park.
They had finally had a break from the recent snow and ice, and the weather was rather fair. A light dusting of white covered the dormant grass, although the sun was shining brightly, the brisk wind having dulled to a cool, light breeze. As Pleasant walked along the path attired in a simple, cotton bonnet tied beneath her chin, a plain gray dress and worn cloak, she might have imagine that, if things were different, she could have been courting the handsome man beside her in his greatcoat and hat.
But since such foolish fantasies would only get her into trouble, she replied to his earlier statement, determined to keep their time together on neutral ground. “As the eldest, it’s my responsibility. And with Mama’s health—” She shrugged. “I don’t mind. They are good children, even if Niall is starting to show a bit more temperament as he gets older.”
“That’s only natural,” he countered. “All teenage boys go through a rebellious spirit.”
She glanced sideways at him. “Even you?”
His eyes slid to her and he winked. “Especially me.”
Trickles of warmth stole over Pleasant’s body, for while it was an innocent enough action, he made it entirely wicked. She turned to face forward. While there wasn’t much activity this early in the morning, most of the fashionable set still abed, there were a few people milling about. Keeping her siblings in sight, she wondered, not for the first time, about the man at her side. For all that she’d worked for Mr. Reed nearly a fortnight, Pleasant didn’t know that much about him.
But in this relaxed atmosphere, now seemed the perfect opportunity to engage, so she asked, “How long have you been a cordwainer?”
“About twelve years, I would imagine.”
“How did you get into the trade?” she prodded, enjoying the deep timbre of his voice.
“Rather by accident. I worked on board a naval ship. I started out as a cabin boy, but eventually worked my way up the ranks. When I became first mate during the War of 1812, many of the crew started to complain about the nature of their shoes. Taking it upon myself to see what could be done, I started to repair them. It turns out I had a talent for it.”
“The men must have been grateful.”
“I would imagine so. They made me captain because of it.”
She turned to him and they stopped walking near the shade of a large oak tree. She leaned back against the bark and tilted her head to the side, genuinely intrigued. “Truly?”
“Indeed. I even fought under Wellington in the Seventh Coalition. That’s when I decided I’d had enough. After a life spent on the sea, I wanted to set down some roots and establish my trade.”
“You must be a hero to have suffered through the Battle of Waterloo,” she murmured.
He leaned his right hand against the tree, moving his body perilously close to hers. He lowered his voice as he began to slowly untie the ribbon holding her bonnet in place with his left. “I’m no hero. I’m just a simple man who wanted to serve his country.”
She couldn’t seem to move her eyes away from his face as her bonnet fell the ground, unheeded. “And what do you hope to accomplish now?”
“Now,” he echoed, his eyes darkening to a deep, rich green as his gaze settled on her hair and then slowly dropped to her mouth. “I’m just a boy who wants to kiss a girl.”
***
Cornell heard the catch in Pleasant’s breath as he bent down to capture her full mouth. The moment she’d opened the door, it had been all he could think of. Every time she darted her delicious pink tongue out to lick a crumb from her scone, or the way his body had heated when his thigh had touched hers—all of it combined had made him determined to acquire this single, stolen moment.
He noticed that her siblings were still down by the pond, paying them no mind, so it was the perfect opportunity to taste her. However, he hadn’t been prepared for the shock of awareness that stole through him the moment they became one. His left arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him so that he might deepen the embrace. He waited for her to try and pull away, but when she only gasped and melted into him, he was lost.
With a growl deep in his throat, he captured the back of her head with his right hand and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. When she did, he delved inside. She was clinging to his shoulders
and trembling slightly, and he realized that he had to take this slow. She was an innocent, and here he was, ready to lift her skirts in the middle of Hyde Park and rut against the tree like some sort of unscrupulous rogue.
Reluctantly, he forced himself to pull back. When her eyes opened, they were sparkling with a mixture of confusion and passion. What he wouldn’t give to fully unlock that potential. Either way, he knew that after that kiss, paying a visit to Madame LeFleur’s establishment was out of the question. Something told him that this woman had just ruined him for all others.
Cornell frowned slightly, for he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“Pea! Come quick! It’s Connor!”
The urgent shouts coming from the pond had Pleasant quickly coming back to her senses. She blinked away the glaze that had covered her eyes and ran toward the sound of distress. Cornell followed her and clenched his jaw when he saw the scene in front of him. Fiona was sitting on a nearby rock, crying pitiful tears, and Niall was kneeling by Connor who was lying on the ground. He was wet and didn’t appear to be breathing.
“What happened?” Pleasant demanded as she knelt beside her older brother, her voice frantic.
Niall shoved a hand through his hair. “We’d made a bet that he wouldn’t walk out on the pond, but he did…and then the ice cracked…he fell through…” His face crumpled although he was trying to be strong.
Cornell had been through many such episodes on board ship with men who had gone overboard in frigid temperatures. As he removed his great coat, he asked grimly, “How long was he under?”
Niall shook his head. “I don’t know…maybe a few…minutes?”
Cornell nodded briskly as he knelt on the other side of Connor’s lifeless body. He had to act quickly, for his lips were already taking on a blue tinge. He glanced at Pleasant. “Take Niall over by Fiona.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but in the end, she put her hand around Niall’s shoulders and led him away.
