The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret

by Helen Dickson

  His broad shoulders were encased in a brown hacking jacket and his calves in shiny black boots. Taking an arrogant stance against the hearth, one hand resting on the mantel, in daylight his features were as hard edged as they had been last night. He watched her go about her chores with lazy interest, his predator’s smile still in place.

  But no matter how many distractions Lisette heaped on Ross, he was not immune to the change in Araminta this morning. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes overbright, and as he listened to her extol the equestrian merits of the locality, she seemed jumpy and apprehensive and avoided meeting his eyes. He frowned with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

  ‘You do not seem yourself this morning, Araminta. Are you feeling unwell?’

  Araminta glanced almost nervously across the room at Lisette and then back to her brother. She laughed a little nervously. ‘I confess I have a headache—probably too much wine at the assembly. A good gallop is just what I need to take it away. I’ll go and see if Phaedra would like to accompany us,’ she said, crossing quickly to the door. ‘She’ll be most put out if she knows we’ve gone riding without her.’

  When she’d gone Ross looked at Lisette, a concerned frown etched on his brow. She bustled about, dropping objects onto the dressing table and floor—a sure sign the nervous maid was in a taking over something.

  ‘What is wrong with Araminta? It is clear that she is not herself this morning. Has something happened that I should know about?’

  ‘As she said—too much wine at the assembly,’ Lisette replied. His eyes were probing hers, looking for answers. She bent her head over her task lest he saw the anxiety in her eyes.

  ‘As I recall she came home early from the Assembly Rooms. You would tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, Miss Napier? My sister is wilful, her conduct sometimes borders on inappropriate. It seems a weakness of hers to get into scrapes. If she is up to something you can be certain it will be something foolish and outrageous, so I would like to know about it before it happens.’

  ‘It is not my place. I am here to see to the needs of Miss Araminta, not to divulge her confidences—if she had any, that is.’

  ‘Is she up to something?’

  Lisette looked at him direct. ‘Colonel Montague, when you employed me you asked for my discretion and my loyalty. I will not talk to you about Miss Araminta.’

  ‘Even though it is my wish?’

  ‘Even so.’

  ‘That is a shame. I have the greatest reliance on your judgement.’

  ‘Then you are to be disappointed. You must forgive me if I tell you I have nothing to say to you on this matter.’

  ‘And you are the most wilful woman I have ever met, Miss Napier.’

  Ross relinquished his stance and moved to the vanity where Lisette was placing things tidily in the drawers. He stood behind her, his silence more eloquent, more powerful, more successful in impinging on her senses than Araminta’s garrulous chatter. She didn’t know why she felt apprehensive at his attention, for after his sister’s warning not to take men’s admiration too seriously, she would like to simply smile and accept any compliments they paid her. But Colonel Montague was a man who could not be ignored.

  ‘Be assured that if there is anything wrong with my sister, I shall find out.’ She looked at him before turning her head and lowering her eyes so she would not have to look at his penetrating eyes. His firm lips curved in a slight smile. ‘I enjoyed our conversation last night, Miss Napier,’ he said on a softer note, raising a hand and gently tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, ‘and I can’t tell you what a pleasure it would give me to invite you to ride with us this morning.’

  Lisette stilled, shocked, then raised her head. ‘Don’t do that!’ A warm glow suffused the area he’d touched.

  ‘You’re frowning—you look cross.’

  Drawing herself up and taking a step back, she turned and fixed him with a censorious look. ‘That’s because I am cross. I must insist that you refrain from speaking to me unless it concerns Miss Araminta.’

  Inwardly Ross stilled. He looked down into her disapproving eyes, distracted by myriad emotions playing in her expressive eyes. ‘Why? Do you not feel comfortable when you are with me?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Are we talking about the feelings that I arouse in you, Miss Napier? Come, tell me. I am all eager attention.’

  ‘If you must know, then yes, that is exactly what I mean.’

  Suppressing his urge to smile, Ross smoothed his expression into an admirable imitation of earnest gravity. ‘Oh, dear—that bad.’

  Her eyes searched his, then her lips compressed. ‘Last night I should have left the stables when you arrived. There must be no more conversations between us like that. I have no desire to bring censure down on myself. People will gossip and, should it reach Mrs Landes-Fraser, I will be dismissed.’

  ‘Heaven forbid it would go that far. I apologise if my attention offended you, but I did not force you to yield to me when I kissed you.’

  No, Lisette thought. In all fairness he hadn’t. It was as if some spell had been cast over her and she had wantonly, willingly joined in her own seduction.

  ‘Let us assume I am not your employer,’ Ross said, his voice soft and provocative, his eyes preoccupied with her rosy lips. ‘How would you react to my advances then, Miss Napier? Would you fall into my arms and allow me to kiss you to distraction?’

  Her delicate brows drew together and amusement teased the corners of her generous mouth as she surveyed him, considering her answer. ‘Based on what I already know of you, I might very well be tempted,’ she confessed, unable to deny the truth since he seemed to know her thoughts so well. ‘But the fact remains that you are my employer and that is the trouble.’

  ‘And I feel compelled to point out that an employee should never contradict her employer.’

  ‘Whenever I find myself in your company you forget yourself. Is your lofty rank supposed to intimidate me, Colonel?’ she asked in her quiet voice, a surprising hint of anger in it that Ross had never heard before. ‘Because if so, then you are mistaken. I am the daughter of a gentleman, and my parents brought me up decently.’

  His eyes narrowed on hers. ‘Your parents brought you up in India, where the climate is hot and allied to a different culture. That makes you inescapably different to other English girls. You can’t change what you are.’

  ‘And what am I?’ she asked bitterly. ‘Do you presume that because I am a servant, I’m fair game to be seduced?’

  ‘I do not, and nor do I wish to seduce you—at least, not this minute. If I had wished it, it would already have happened.’

  Lisette gasped at his arrogance. But the potency of his desire could not be denied. ‘I will not let it happen. You presume too much where I am concerned, Colonel.’

  The words were low, laced with contempt, bitter with an emotion Ross could not place. ‘Do not doubt my needs, Lisette,’ he chided softly with a lusty stare, as if he could read all that was in her mind. ‘Or my intention of having you.’

  ‘You rate yourself too highly, sir. I belong to no man. Please don’t speak to me like this.’

  His chuckles sounded low and deep. Her face gave no sign of softening. Even so, its beauty fed his gaze and created in his being a sweet, hungering ache that could neither be easily put aside nor sated with anything less than what he desired.

  ‘We don’t have to speak at all if that is what you want, Lisette. For myself I would prefer not to.’ His gaze settled on her lips. His eyes darkened and his hands came up to frame her face. ‘Forgive me but I have to do this.’ Then, tilting her face up, his descended. When his lips touched hers, Lisette couldn’t have quelled the shudder that passed through her had her life depended on it. Stunned, poised to resist, she mentally paused. Soft but sure, bringing sweetness and pleasure, they covered hers, moving slowly, languorously, as if savouring her taste, her texture.

  His kiss was slow and deliber
ate, yet there was nothing threatening or hurried in his lips’ caress. Indeed, it was beguiling, luring Lisette’s senses. Her lips were soft and hot, and he pressed his mouth to hers as if drinking in her heat. As her lips began to respond, in some part of her mind a warning bell began to ring, but she was long past listening. His lips felt and tasted just as they had before. Unable to resist the temptation to return the pressure, she parted her lips, slowly exploring the sensations of delight that infused her as his lips played against hers. Growing lightheaded, she rested her hands on his chest to steady herself.

  She was sweet and pliant, her body pressing willingly to his. Taking advantage of her weakening, untutored response, Ross slid his tongue between her lips, slowly, with his customary assured arrogance, quite certain of his expertise and his welcome. But he held the reins of his desire in a grip of iron and refused to let the demons loose. Primal instincts urged him on—experience held him back.

  She was giving a little more of herself every time they met; he knew it, but in her heart, deep in her heart, where no one could hear it or know of its existence, a small wordless whisper was beginning to woo her. His male body yearned to go on, to satisfy itself as it had always done. He was thinking like a man who is intent on seduction, and he supposed he was—but in the back of his mind was the thought that she was not the kind of woman to be rushed.

  Her desire, her passion, answered his call and he knew she would be his after a little tender persuasion. But there was no need for hurry. She was innocent, naive, untouched, unused to the demands of a man’s hands. He would not go too fast, otherwise she would turn skittish and balk and then he would have to work harder to win her back. Passion lay heavy, languid, between them. He let it sink into her senses so she would not forget, and next time he would savour her slowly and it would be sweeter, for the end was never in doubt.

  Raising his head he looked down into her flushed face. Her eyes slowly opened, then she blinked, and stared straight at him. He couldn’t stop his rakish grin.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered as his head bent to hers once more. ‘It would take some explaining if your sister should come in and see us.’ At this thought a hand seemed to grip her heart and panic streaked through her. Neatly she slipped away from him. To her relief he straightened and drew back, but his confident smile didn’t waver.

  ‘A man can speak to the woman he wants any way he chooses,’ Ross said, his male arrogance edging his voice again, his lips quirking in a mirthless smile. ‘This will happen. I promise you.’

  A cold shiver went down her spine. The idea that he was amusing himself, without any real intent, died, slain by the look in his eyes. It was intense. It couldn’t have been clearer had he put it into words. She knew it was wrong, and yet what he promised was so wickedly exciting, like nothing she had ever experienced before. That she was deeply attracted to this man was undeniably true, but she must not go blindly, emotionally rushing into what might have many pitfalls and would end in tears.

  ‘I am not regretful about our kiss,’ he went on, ‘nor will I regret having you when the time comes.’ She glared at the arrogance of this statement, but Ross forged ahead with what he’d intended to say in a calm, philosophical tone. ‘I could say that you are blameless in all this, that what happens is not your will—but mine. But that wouldn’t be true, would it?’ He knew that as soon as he asked the question he wanted her to assure him that he spoke the truth, that he didn’t want her to deny that she’d felt all the things he had in their kiss, or that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her. As if he suddenly needed to test her honesty and his instincts, he persisted, ‘Isn’t that right?’

  Lisette didn’t want to make it easy for him, nor to let him think she was so dazzled by his masculinity that she was almost drowning in her own pleasure as the wanton sensations ran through her body at his every touch, but she was unable to tell a lie.

  ‘Yes!’ The word burst out of her, without shame but filled with a thousand other feelings Ross couldn’t identify.

  ‘Yes?’ he repeated, while a heady sensation of relief burst within him. ‘Then I am not wrong.’

  It was not the tone of relief in his voice that made her answer. It was, instead, her sudden memories of the way he had kissed her, memories of his incredible combined gentleness and passion. Added to that was the memory of her own urgent desire to experience more than his kiss, to become a part of him, at one with him, to expand on the exquisite sensations he was making her feel. She opened her mouth to utter a denial to his statement, but her conscience strangled the words in her throat. She had found glory, not shame, in their kiss, and she could not make herself lie to him and say otherwise.

  ‘It was not my will for this to happen between us,’ she answered in a muffled whisper. Dragging her mortified gaze from his blue gaze, she turned her head away and added, ‘but once I was in your arms, it was not my will to leave them either.’

  She had looked away, so she didn’t see the new tenderness in his slow smile.

  Forbidding herself to linger for fear of getting caught up in him again, she picked up one of her mistress’s gowns that needed ironing and, draping it over her arm, she left the room.

  Still smiling, Ross watched her go. Beneath her plain servant’s garb, Lisette Napier was a natural temptress, alluring and provocative, with the slender body of a goddess, the smile of an angel and an unspoiled charm that made him smile whenever he thought of her. She was warm and lovely and as elusive as a butterfly. He couldn’t get her out of his mind—the taste of her, the feel of her, the heady scent of her, wreathed his senses. He had given up trying to understand the reasons why he wanted her.

  He did, and that was reason enough.

  * * *

  The following morning, pleased with a diversion from her duties, accompanied by Faith and Daisy, Lisette set off to walk into Castonbury village to purchase some yarns. It was a happy trio that sauntered along the High Street, pausing now and then to gaze into the shop windows and to watch a stagecoach deposit its passengers at the Rothermere Arms.

  Unfortunately Mrs Hall’s shop from which Lisette was to make her purchases was closed. In the bow window where an array of colourful ribbons and yarns were on display, there was a notice saying Mrs Hall had been called away and that she would be back within the hour. Faith and Daisy had to hurry back but Lisette said she would wait. Her companions left her sitting on a bench near St Mary’s Church to await the shop’s opening.

  By the time she had made her purchases and started on the mile journey back to Castonbury Park, rain clouds were gathering. Heavy spots soon became a downpour. Finding shelter under a large oak tree she settled down to wait for the rain to abate.

  In the distance a horse and rider appeared from the direction of the house. The rider’s tall figure was outlined against the sky, a liver-and-white hound in his wake. It was Colonel Montague. Lisette was conscious of the sudden tension and nervousness in her as he drew closer. There was nowhere to hide. After their encounter the previous day, she didn’t know how to behave towards him.

  Holding her basket containing her small purchases in front of her, she drew herself up straight as he came closer, dismounted and strode towards her. He tossed his tall hat on the horn of his saddle, water dripping from his long riding cape. For one wild, unreasoning moment Lisette’s life flared into vivid, lively colour. All the drab routine that had become her life faded away.

  ‘Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Miss Napier,’ he said, and there was a touch of irony in his tone. He bowed, smiling at her from deep blue eyes. A dimple in his cheek was deeply and wickedly cleft as he stood before her. The memory of their last encounter rose between them, intangible but strong. Taking a deep breath she tried to stifle her rising emotions. Colonel Montague somehow always caught her at her most vulnerable.

  With an effort she said in a voice that she hoped sounded matter-of-fact, ‘Good day, Colonel Montague.’

  He raised one well-defined eyebrow, watch
ing her. A faint half-smile now played on his lips as if he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. ‘I never expected to see you here. What are you doing?’

  ‘Exactly what it looks like. I am sheltering from the rain under this tree,’ she replied primly, resenting his effect on her, the masculine assurance of his bearing. But she was conscious of an unwilling excitement, seeing him arrogantly mocking, and recklessly attractive. Here they were, just the two of them, together sheltering from the rain under a tree, in an atmosphere bristling with tension and subdued emotions.

  Ross’s eyes did a quick sweep of her lightweight dark grey dress and summer bonnet. ‘I would advise you to wear something more substantial the next time you decide to walk into the village when rain is threatening.’

  ‘There was no sign of rain when I set out. Unfortunately the proprietor of the shop from which I wanted to purchase some items was gone on an errand and I had to wait for it to open. Daisy and Faith had duties at the house and were unable to wait, so as you see, Colonel, I am quite alone.’

  Ross gazed down into those brilliant amber eyes and that entrancing face. His decision to have her no matter how much trouble she put him to had now become an unshakable resolution. A slow, admiring smile drifted across his face as he said, ‘Then you must forgive me if I take advantage of the situation and use the time to enjoy your company and to savour the anticipation of what is to come—although I am becoming heartily tired of the wait.’

  ‘Then you will have to learn to curb your impatience, Colonel, for the weather is hardly conducive for a romantic tryst. If you do not agree with me, perhaps you should cool your ardour and step back out into the rain.’

  Ross bit back a laugh, trying to keep his eyes off the alluring display of her breasts rising and falling beneath her gown. ‘I observed you were not alone when you left the house. I saw the other two return without you.’

  Lisette was not unaware of the possessive gleam in his blue eyes as they roved over her, or that he was bent on charming her again today. ‘How observant you are, Colonel. Were you looking for me?’