“I know.” Duchess Christine smiled and squeezed his arm. “But I’ve seen that your demeanor has improved since you met her. You’re smiling a lot more and there’s a lighter step in your walk. You’ve warmed to her, haven’t you?”
Inverness had more than warmed to Rita Salem. And that wasn’t good. But he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. That would be the right thing to do. If Society weren’t gossiping about his interest in a servant, his own household would be. That was not fair to Rita at all; Inverness didn’t care about himself.
“Is that a bad thing, Mother?” he asked.
The dowager duchess looked pained, and she nodded.
“I’m afraid so. She is a servant, love. Nothing can happen between you.”
“I know that.” Inverness took his hat off and shook the snow off it, feeling the flakes settle in his hair. “But one can think about it. She’s a breath of fresh air after everything else.”
Duchess Christine grunted.
“Well, let’s hope she’s kept you in a good mood long enough for dinner tonight at Lady Thorpe’s. Bedford is going to be there.”
Now Inverness’s mood dissipated. They had been lucky being in London and not having run into the marquis yet. His mother being unwell and not up for guests had been useful, but it did mean the inevitable was going to happen. From Inverness’s few contacts, Bedford had heard his former love was in London and wanted to get reacquainted. Duchess Christine wanted nothing to do with him but wasn’t about to make a fuss by declaring she wanted to be nowhere near the vile man.
“Can’t you turn down the invitation?”
Duchess Christine shook her head.
“I can’t. Lady Thorpe is my closest friend. I said I would go. She doesn’t like Bedford any more than I do but he is her late husband’s cousin. She had to invite him to be polite as he is family.”
Technically, she didn’t have to. Bedford was only her kin by marriage. But Inverness wasn’t about to argue with that. It was futile.
As long as the marquis stayed on his side of the table, Inverness could handle him fine.
***
Rita poured another glass for Duchess Christine, aware of the Marquis of Bedfordshire’s eyes on her from across the table. He had been openly staring at her since they had arrived. Duchess Christine had expressed, as she was still a little unwell, that Rita would tend to her. She didn’t want to cause upset for her friends.
Rita was beginning to wish she had been left behind.
Being here as a servant wasn’t something new–she was used to being in the background, although Lady Thorpe and her guests were very pleasant–but having one openly looking at her unnerved Rita. She didn’t mind it from the duke who cast her occasional looks as he sat beside his mother, but from the marquis it felt different. Like Rita needed to wash his gaze off her.
Chapter 4
Cornered
She didn’t want to be here, being looked over like something in a shop window. She wasn’t a box of chocolates. Or a bottle of wine, which never seemed to leave Bedford’s place.
Lady Thorpe, seated at the head of the table, gave Bedford a nervous look as he poured another generous glass.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Bedford.”
Bedford snorted. His cheeks were a ruddy red. The drink was clearly taking hold.
“Don’t tell me when I can and can’t have anything to drink,” he growled, toasting his overly full glass. “I can drink what I like.”
He downed the glass before reaching for the bottle again. Rita caught Lady Thorpe’s eye and the older woman beckoned her over. She whispered into Rita’s ear.
“Let Charleston know that we won’t be serving Lord Bedford anymore wine. That he is to keep the key to the drinks cabinet on his person.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Rita left the room and found the butler arranging the glasses to put in the library for the men to take their port. The young man was more than happy to accommodate, even taking a glass away meant for the marquis. Once she had assurances that Bedford’s alcohol intake would be cut off immediately, Rita headed back to the dining room.
Only to be blocked by a solid wall that was the Marquis of Bedfordshire. Rita backed up quickly, looking up into the old man’s leering face. He stank of alcohol and Rita had to stop herself from wrinkling her nose.
“And where are you off to in such a hurry, little miss?” Bedford slurred.
“Back to the dining room, my lord.”
“Why did you leave it in the first place?”
Rita stiffened her back.
“I do not have to answer that, my lord,” she said curtly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”
“I didn’t say you could go.”
He wasn’t budging. Rita felt anger mix with her nerves. She didn’t like being blocked like this, but she couldn’t exactly push against him. Either he would grab her or he would have her dismissed for laying a hand on him. She was stuck.
“You are not my master, my lord,” Rita shot back. “And I am busy.”
She tried to step around him but Bedford stepped with her. Then he stepped close, so that Rita had to back up.
“Why don’t you come with me to a little private corner and have a drink with me?” He reached for her. “Your mistress won’t notice you’ve gone for a while.”
“I will not.” Rita pushed his hands away. “I have work to do.”
“Just one drink.”
“I said no!”
Rita slapped his hand away again. Bedford paused, his nostrils flaring as his eyes darkened. Then he grabbed at her. Rita screamed as he hauled her into his arms, pinning her against the wall. He went in for a kiss but Rita got her arm up between them, pressing across his throat. Bedford gurgled, but he kept pushing. Rita shrank back as far as she could.
“Let me go!”
Bedford chuckled.
“I’m a marquis, remember? I don’t answer to anyone.”
“You answer to me.”
That was when Rita saw Inverness, storming down the hall with a face like thunder. It was such a relief to see him she almost burst into tears.
***
Inverness had been watching Bedford the whole way through the meal. When he entered Lady Thorpe’s home and demanded a large whisky before he had even greeted his cousin, Inverness knew it was going to be a difficult evening. His mother had realized the same, and she stayed closed to her son’s side.
Bedford did see her and try to approach her but Inverness steered Duchess Christine to the other side of the room, conversing with Lady Thorpe’s son and daughter-in-law, who was pregnant with their first child. Talk about families and babies was enough to deter the marquis who saw things like marriage and children as something that should be left well alone.
It was no wonder, even without the drink, that he was considered an undesirable match. Bedford’s open opinions did tend to put people off, especially women. None of them were keen on being a maid under his hand. And maids they would be.
Inverness was glad his mother had not succumbed to that fate. And he was glad that Bedford was not his father.
The marquis did keep his distance, for the most part. When they were announced into dinner and filed in, Inverness escorting Duchess Christine, Bedford was right behind them. He was practically breathing down their necks. And his breath stank. Inverness had to concentrate hard not to turn around and become a rogue by lashing out. It was incredibly tempting.
But he realized, as he sat down, that Bedford had his eye on someone else. Rita. Duchess Christine had insisted that Rita came with her as she was still not feeling very well and Rita had been helping out the other staff with serving drinks and now with serving dinner. She was very hands-on, and Inverness could stop himself from watching her. Even as a servant, Rita knew how to work a room. She managed some conversation with the guests, who were still smiling as she walked away. There was a charm about her that Inverness hadn’t realized was there.<
br />
Put her in a fancy dress and make her look like an aristocrat and nobody would realize she was from humble stock.
However, it was clear that Bedford had caught sight of Rita and thought the same as the duke. He kept demanding the tray with the drinks be brought over and attempting to pull Rita into the circle of conversation. Rita was quick enough to dodge him, and she kept her distance. Even as she served, she managed to keep away from the marquis. But the old man barely took his eyes off her, openly declaring what he was thinking without opening his mouth.
Inverness felt something twisting in his stomach. Was that anger or jealousy? He had no idea. Anger, he could understand, but jealousy? Was he jealous? That wasn’t possible, surely? Rita wasn’t even on the same social ladder as either of them.
And yet…
After Lady Thorpe had a quiet word with Rita, Rita left the room. A few minutes later, Bedford stood with a belch and half-walked, half-stumbled out. Inverness’s gut told him that this wasn’t a coincidence. The old bugger was up to something.
Excusing himself, Inverness hurried out. Then he heard raised voices and Rita saying, very clearly, for someone to leave her alone. And then Bedford’s voice came to Inverness’s ears. Purring and slurred with the alcohol.
Then he heard a scream.
Panicking, Inverness darted down the hall and around the corner. There he saw Bedford pinning Rita up against the wall. Rita had her arms across her, one arm wedged against Bedford’s neck as he tried to get himself closer. Rita was squirming, trying to get away.
“Let me go!” she shrieked.
Bedford chuckled.
“I’m a marquis. I don’t answer to anyone.”
Inverness growled.
“You answer to me.”
Bedford looked around, his smirk fading. Rita looked like she was about to cry. Inverness clenched his fists, wishing he could take a swing at Bedford.
“What do you think you’re doing, Bedford?” he snapped.
“Get lost, Inverness,” Bedford shot back. “No one invited you.”
“You will let my mother’s maid go.” Inverness gritted his teeth and advanced on them. “Now.”
Bedford snorted and tugged Rita close. Rita reacted and brought her knee up. Bedford let out a loud yell and let go of her, dropping hard to his knees. Rita darted away from him and ran straight into Inverness’s arms. Neither questioned it, and Inverness wasn’t about to let Rita go now. She was shaking and quietly sobbing. Even with people coming to see what the commotion about, Inverness wasn’t going to let go.
Then he spied Lady Thorpe’s butler, who was hurrying towards them with two of the footmen.
“Your Grace!” The young man slowed to a stop beside him. “What’s happening?”
“The marquis was getting a little too friendly with Miss Salem.” Inverness was surprised he could keep his composure. He nodded at Bedford, who was struggling to get to his knees. “Get him out of here right now.”
“With pleasure, Your Grace.” Terence Follett advanced on Bedford, his footmen circling around the aristocrat. “Come on, my lord. Your carriage is waiting.”
“Leave me alone!” Bedford flailed at Follett and missed, wincing before clutching at his lower midriff again. He glowered at Inverness. “You can’t tell him what to do.”
“But I can.”
Lady Thorpe was striding along the hall. The dowager duchess was just behind her. Lady Thorpe looked ready to burst into flames. She practically snarled at Bedford.
“I gave you one chance to behave yourself and you have messed it up. No more chances, Bedford. I don’t care what our familial ties are.” She jabbed a finger at the marquis who was managing to get to his feet. “I told you to leave the staff alone, but you didn’t listen. Now, you will leave.”
Bedford was still spluttering as Follett and one of the footmen grabbed his arms. He tried to push them away, but they had a very tight grip on him. Bedford’s eyes landed on Inverness and then down to Rita, whose face was still buried in Inverness’s chest.
“I’ll get you for this,” he hissed as he was dragged back. “I will.”
Inverness wasn’t sure which one of them the marquis was speaking to.
Chapter 5
A New Revelation
Rita felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest. She could hardly breathe and trying to keep her composure in front of everyone wasn’t easy. All she could do was clutch at the duke’s coat like he was going to hold her up.
And hold her up he did. Inverness didn’t say anything when Rita ran at him, more out of relief than anything else, and he didn’t object when Rita hugged him. She forgot, for just a moment, that he was her employer. She just saw someone who had come to her rescue, who was there for her.
By the time Rita realized what she was doing, Inverness’s arms were tight around her, refusing to let go. She couldn’t step away if she tried. He wouldn’t let her.
And Rita would be lying if she said she didn’t like being held by him.
As the marquis was being dragged away, shouting drunken obscenities, Duchess Christine appeared at her son’s side. She neatly detached Rita from the duke’s arms and tucked Rita into her side as they went back down the hall.
“Oh, my dear!” she cried as she moved Rita through the gawping crowd of guests, steering her into the parlor room. “Merciful heavens, are you all right?”
“I…I think so.” Rita was glad when the dowager duchess shut the door on the people watching them curiously. She was trying very hard to hold back the onslaught of tears that threatened to well up in her relief. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I didn’t mean…”
“I know you didn’t mean anything, love. That’s how the marquis is. He always wants to get something he can never have.” Duchess Christine directed Rita to a chair by the fire and sat her down. “Take a seat, honey.”
“I can’t.” Rita started to stand. “I’m your maid…”
“And you’ve just been manhandled by an insufferable man so you’re clearly in shock.” Duchess Christine pressed her hands on Rita’s shoulders and made her sit down again. “You are sitting down. No arguments.”
Rita knew it was fruitless trying to argue, so she sat. The warmth of the fire felt really good. She could feel it seeping into her bones. Duchess Christine sat in the chair opposite, smoothing her hands on her skirts. She was looking a little pale under her powder.
“Forgive me, Madam.” Rita’s shaking hands twisted in her lap. “I had no idea that the marquis was going to do that.”
“Nobody knew. But he does have a habit of make moves on Lady Thorpe’s staff. She was giving him one last chance to behave himself.” Duchess Christine shook her head with a frown. “I should have suspected that he would do something, but I was more focused on myself. I didn’t realize it would be you in danger. I should have let you stay at home.”
Rita couldn’t let her blame herself for this. She hastened to assure the older woman.
“My job is to be your personal maid, Madam. I’m just glad the duke came upon us when he did.”
“So am I. I saw Inverness’s face when Bedford was being dragged out. He was furious.” Christine’s mouth twitched slightly in a smile. “You know, he’s quite protective over you.”
Rita could feel her face going red.
“I wouldn’t know about that, Your Grace. I’m just a servant.”
“A servant he’s taken an interest in.”
This conversation was about to take a dangerous turn. This should not even be happening, certainly not with her employer discussing her son. Rita looked anywhere around the room that wasn’t at the dowager duchess.
“We should not be discussing something so scandalous where people can hear us,” she whispered.
Duchess Christine shrugged.
“It may be scandalous to everyone else, but I know my son. He doesn’t really care for Society and the fine print. And I love him, so I have no objection to what he does. While showing affection
to a servant of mine isn’t what I wanted of him, I can’t deprive him of that.”
Rita had no idea what she meant by that. Did the duke care for her more than he should? Rita had thought about it before but had discarded it. It would never happen. It wouldn’t be allowed. But the dowager duchess seemed to be perfectly composed, not even batting an eyelid at the outrageous suggestion she had just voiced.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Grace,” Rita muttered.
Duchess Christine’s smile widened.
“You’ll know soon enough, my dear.”
Rita wasn’t sure about that.
***
The carriage was silent as they were driven home. Rita sat beside the dowager duchess, huddled in the older woman’s cloak, trying not to look across at Inverness, who was practically stewing in his seat. Rita knew he was watching her, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. The whole situation had been embarrassing as had the conversation afterward with Duchess Christine.
What had she been talking about? Did that mean the duke saw her with more affection than he was supposed to? Did it mean he loved her? That wasn’t possible! He couldn’t. She was a servant, not even worthy of having a duke speak to her, let alone have anything to do with her.
Her Grace had to have come down with something. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Maybe she had had a little too much to drink. Rita made a mental note to make sure her mistress didn’t drink to excess in the future.
They arrived at the house. Inverness jumped out first and helped his mother out. Then he reached in to help Rita. Rita bypassed his hand and climbed out on her own, nearly slipping on the cobbles. Inverness caught her arm as she wobbled. Rita could feel the warmth through her sleeve. And he wouldn’t let go as they walked to the door, staying firmly rooted to her side.
All Rita wanted to do was run. She had disgraced herself enough; no more of this. She didn’t want it.
Duchess Christine she stretched and yawned as she entered the foyer
“I don’t know about you two but I’m exhausted. I’m going to retire to my room now.”
“Very well.” Inverness kissed his mother’s cheek. “Goodnight, Mother.”
Regency Romances for the Ages Page 74
