Lisette took a deep breath and lifted her head. ‘Oh, yes, Mrs Stratton.’ And Lisette did understand. She understood perfectly well.
‘Miss Araminta speaks very highly of you. It is important that you guard your good name. Whatever the truth of it, there is nothing more detestable than defamation, so if you wish to remain as her maid, then you must avoid it.’
‘I will bear that in mind.’
‘I understand you had little experience when Lord Montague employed you as Miss Araminta’s maid.’
‘That is true, Mrs Stratton.’
‘Well, then, I hope you understand you were very fortunate to be given this position.’
‘I do.’
‘Very well, Miss Napier.’ Standing up she smiled and her expression softened. ‘Colonel Montague is an attractive man—indeed all the Montague men are very handsome—there’s little wonder some of the maids have their heads turned. But I must remind you that it is fitting for every servant to maintain a good character—they have nothing to depend on but their good name. But you are a sensible girl. I think you know what happens when a servant behaves improperly with their master.’
A wave of colour mounted Lisette’s face. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. There was a constriction in her throat and there was a feeling inside her of...what? Shame? Regret? She didn’t know, but she didn’t like it. Her voice sounded very small as she answered. ‘I take your meaning, Mrs Stratton.’
‘What Colonel Montague does in his spare time,’ Mrs Stratton went on, ‘which is private and not for us to comment on or wonder at, is his own business. But when one of the servants becomes involved it is my duty to speak out.’
Lisette smiled. ‘I do understand, and I will give you no reason to have to speak to me again.’
‘That’s all I ask. Attend to your duties.’
As Lisette closed the door to Mrs Stratton’s sitting room she asked herself what she had done. The enormity of her transgression hit her. The housekeeper had implied that a maid who crossed the line was in danger of finding herself in a delicate situation. Please God it hadn’t happened to her.
* * *
The days passed and the smooth flow of life at Castonbury Park was to be temporarily disrupted by the arrival of a small party of guests to celebrate the marriage between Araminta and Lord Antony Bennington. Such an occasion would be a useful tool in their avowed endeavour to convince the world that the Montagues were not on their uppers as some people thought.
It was an exciting time for the servants, especially for the maids. With the guests would be coachmen, grooms and perhaps the odd footman. There was speculation, too, among the menservants about the numbers of ladies’ maids who would accompany their mistresses, to ensure they looked their best at all times.
As preparations got under way, beneath the frenetic rush ran a sense of gathering excitement. Mrs Stratton gathered the household staff to warn them about forming hasty liaisons with the servants of the guests. It was one thing for a maid to fall pregnant to one of the Castonbury menservants—many marriages had started that way—but it was quite another to bring a man to the altar who lived many miles away and would probably deny all responsibility.
The servants were also reminded that the esteem in which the Montague family was held would suffer if they did not work hard to ensure that this party was deemed a great success.
With her marriage to Lord Bennington only three weeks away, eager to get started on her bridal trousseau, Araminta gave herself over to the seamstresses who travelled from Buxton. Amid swirling bolts of fabric bringing a riot of colour of every imaginable shade to the room, not only was she to be fitted for a new wardrobe for her new position, they were to make her wedding gown. With Araminta standing for what seemed an eternity on a raised platform, smiling and expressing her pleasure and stating her preference, she was measured and pinned and tucked and turned.
Never had Lisette seen the like. She looked around at the dizzying array of chiffon and gossamer, sumptuous silks and soft batistes, embellished with gold and silver.
Not until Araminta had left with Ross to visit Antony Bennington at Glebe Hall was Lisette able to restore order to the room. She was in the dressing room repairing a seam on one of Araminta’s gowns when they returned. Wanting to get it done she carried on sewing.
She lifted her head when she heard Ross saying, ‘Will you mind going to live in Cambridgeshire, Araminta? It’s important for me to know you will be happy there.’
Then came Araminta’s voice answering, ‘When I am married to Antony I will be content to be wherever he is. His parents are perfectly happy about the marriage and relieved we have put that unpleasant business behind us.’
‘You mean the broken betrothal.’
‘Yes. They are hoping very much that Antony’s sister, Caroline, will make a good match too.’
‘They must know someone who’d be right for her.’
‘As a matter of fact they don’t, but I do. I was thinking that over in the carriage on the way home.’
‘And?’
‘I realised I do know someone—a man who will meet her father’s lofty criteria. I am in no doubt that he is the right man for her.’
‘I am sure her father will thank you for that. Who is he?’
‘You.’
The word hung on the air while Ross almost choked on a hearty laugh. ‘Araminta, I am not a candidate!’
‘Why not? You would be perfect.’
Lisette froze, her heartbeat suddenly too rapid and loud in her ears. It wasn’t admirable, eavesdropping on anyone’s conversation, but she couldn’t force herself to move.
‘You know, Ross,’ Araminta went on, ‘Caroline is exceedingly pretty, irresistible and charming and would do very well for you. The family also have connections with India which should appeal to you—I believe her uncle invested heavily in the East India Company. Now you are a colonel and you may be given more sedentary duties, you really ought to be thinking of settling down.’
‘I have been thinking along those lines myself so cease your worrying.’
‘What? A wife and children?’ she asked, her voice excitable at the prospect.
‘Precisely. I have thought about my responsibilities. To marry well, to ensure that I have at least one son, to make the future as secure as possible for my descendants, have become the primary duties of my life. I have postponed them in favour of my regiment for too long.’
‘Oh, Ross, I’m so glad. Caroline is exactly the sort of wife you should have. I do so worry about you. I can’t wait for you to meet her and to introduce you to the Earl and Countess of Cawood. Now go and get ready for dinner while I seek out Phaedra. I promised I would give her a full account of our visit to Glebe Hall.’
The door opened and closed again. Stunned by what she had heard, her cheeks burning and drowning in humiliation, with trembling hands Lisette dropped the work into her lap. All the fears that had engulfed her following her interview with Mrs Stratton returned with a vengeance. She sat there for a long time as the quiet of the house settled about her, feeling the burden of her lowly state more than she ever had before.
To marry well, Ross had said, for was that not expected of him, how he had been raised to think?
She had believed that when Ross took her into his arms, he had been mastered by the same attraction, and suffered the same irresistible revelation, as she had herself. She had been foolish to confuse physical desire with love. Just because a man made love to a woman with such fierce intensity didn’t mean his heart was engaged. She had merely served to distract a man who, for the sake of relieving his boredom, had seduced her—and because she had known no different she had given herself gladly.
What had she done? How could she have allowed such a thing to happen? She had let herself be borne away on a tidal wave of passion. She, Lisette Napier, had succumbed like some overheated village girl, to the coercive, compelling force of Ross Montague’s masculinity. For a brief eternity nothing had existed for
her but him. He had drowned her reason with his kisses, playing upon her virgin senses as a master musician plucks the strings of a familiar violin, arousing her body with such skilful tenderness and breaking down every barrier of her reserve. He had made her a willing, hungry accomplice to his lusts, and for that she despised him.
It made her sick with grief and horror to think that she had been simply a toy for him. Had she snatched up the reins of her own life only to hand them over to the first man capable of putting heat in her belly? The memory of their kisses and caresses which, not so very long ago, had been so sweet, now burned her like a red-hot iron. Utterly overcome with shame and jealousy of a woman she had not even seen, a woman who would tempt him if she had the irresistible charm Araminta had spoken of, with a sick yearning in her heart she covered her face with her hands and began to cry as though her heart would break.
At some point she made it to her room to be alone with her wretched thoughts. With her back pressed against the hard wood of the door she was no longer crying, nor was there present in her that dreadful feeling of humiliation. In its stead there was a white flame of anger. It was a new emotion and was burning her up inside. It had a strength all its own, a separate mind of its own, and it was telling her what to do. She couldn’t face him—not yet, not until she managed to collect herself and her battered emotions.
Chapter Eight
During the following days Lisette went out of her way to avoid Ross. When he visited his sister she would disappear into the dressing room and wait until he had left before emerging.
Putting the finishing touches to Araminta’s toilet, Lisette glanced at her mistress in the looking glass, thinking how pretty she looked in a gown of lavender silk, with dozens of small buttons fastened up the back. Araminta was excited because Lord Bennington and his good friend Roland Latham were to dine with them this evening, along with his parents, Lord and Lady Latham from Glebe Hall. Mr Seagrove and his daughter, Lily, were also invited.
‘What an exciting time this is,’ she enthused. ‘I really can’t wait to marry Antony. After the wedding breakfast, Aunt Wilhelmina has decided that something must be done to entertain the guests. There will be dancing afterwards in the salon. The salon was always used as a ballroom in the past and is not used nearly enough nowadays. Aunt Wilhelmina thought that several people who do not live very far away and will not have to be accommodated should be invited.’
‘That will be nice,’ Lisette replied quietly, preoccupied with her thoughts and not really listening. ‘What jewellery were you thinking for tonight?’
‘The diamond necklace, I think, Lisette. Here, I have it already.’
Lisette draped it round Araminta’s neck and fastened it securely, saying quietly, ‘There is something I wish to say, Miss Araminta. It’s only right that I tell you now.’
‘Why, what is it, Lisette?’ Araminta asked, admiring the necklace in the mirror. ‘You do look serious.’
‘I—I have heard from my father’s lawyer. It would appear that he has left me a small legacy.’
Araminta met her eyes in the glass and smiled broadly, genuinely pleased for her. ‘Why, that’s wonderful.’
‘Yes, it is—only I’ve decided that when you marry Lord Bennington, I won’t be going with you to Cambridgeshire. I intend to resign my post.’
Araminta swung round on the dressing stool and looked straight up at her, disappointment clouding her eyes. ‘But— Oh, Lisette! I will be so sorry to lose you.’ She stiffened and gave her a sharp look. ‘Has something untoward happened to you?’
‘No, not at all,’ Lisette hastened to assure her, hoping she sounded convincing. She could not bear it if Araminta learned she had overheard their conversation and Ross’s eagerness to become acquainted with Caroline Bennington.
‘Must you leave?’
‘Yes. My mind is made up.’
‘But...what will you do? Where will you go? You told me you have no family of your own.’
‘That is true. I’ve decided to go back to India. I don’t know yet what I will do. I’ll decide when I get there.’
‘I see—well, what can I say? You have clearly made up your mind.’
‘Yes, yes, I have. But, for the present, I prefer no one else to know.’
‘Not even Ross? I should tell him what you intend.’
‘No—please. I would rather he didn’t know—at least, not yet—not until I’ve made my plans. I will tell him myself when I am ready.’
‘You know, Lisette, I did think that you might have feelings for Ross—not that anything could have come of it.’
Lisette straightened up, once more reminded of her lowly station. ‘No, Miss Araminta,’ she uttered stiffly. ‘Colonel Montague is your brother—my employer. That is all he is and all he will ever be. We may have a shared interest in India, but nothing more than that.’
‘Of course not. I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything or give offence—but I shall be sorry to lose you, truly.’
Lisette’s expression softened and she smiled. ‘Yes. I shall be sorry to leave.’
* * *
Lisette was leaving Araminta’s rooms when she saw Ross’s imposing figure walking towards her. He was elegantly attired in evening clothes, the dark fabric of his coat moulding his powerful shoulders.
Ross smiled when his eyes lit on her, thinking she looked so fresh and lovely, it almost took his breath away. He found her slender body more than capable of arousing him. The sudden tautness of his own body whenever he came near her proclaimed louder than words how much he was attracted to Lisette, and how difficult he was finding it to control his physical reactions to her. Their lovemaking had been unique in his experience, satisfying him totally yet leaving him longing for more.
When she was close that tender spot at the curve of her neck looked so appealing that when she was within reach, throwing caution to the winds, he gave in to the urge to taste it. Lightly grasping her arms, he planted a swift butterfly kiss on her silken skin.
When she gave a start and pulled away, he grinned with quick, boyish warmth. ‘Where have you been hiding yourself? I’ve missed you, Lisette.’
He thought she had simply been startled by his intimate gesture, but Lisette visibly stiffened at his words. She didn’t seem at all pleased to see him. When she quickly averted her gaze, his grin faded.
Lisette had been startled by Ross’s brief caress. Casting a nervous glance around her to be sure no one else had seen his kiss, she turned away from him. The words she had so unfortunately overheard were still spinning in her mind. Ross wanted only what she could give him—the means to slake his physical lust. He had done that. She wouldn’t humiliate herself further by letting him know how much she craved his kisses, his touch.
‘I have not been hiding,’ she replied stiffly, forcing the words past the tightness in her throat, trying not to be intimidated by his towering masculine presence. ‘I’ve been kept extremely busy of late—as I am sure you will understand.’
Her tone, her very posture, was cool and aloof. Ross peered down at her, trying to read her expression. He was puzzled and frankly astonished that after all the exquisite passion she had shown him, she had suddenly turned cold. Her response disturbed him, as had the way she’d flinched at his touch. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he didn’t like to consider the possibilities.
The corner of his mouth twisted wryly in a gesture that was not quite a smile. ‘You do not look pleased to see me. I presume our relationship gives me the right to speak to you privately.’
‘This is not the time.’
He regarded her darkly, his gaze narrowed and assessing. ‘Then do you mind telling me when it is the right time?’
‘There isn’t one. It is best if we do not meet again like this while the house is full of guests.’
‘Lisette, would you mind telling me what is going on?’ She wasn’t merely objecting to seeing him, she didn’t appear to want to at all. ‘Is there some problem I don’t know about
?’
Lisette managed to return his gaze briefly. ‘Problem?’ she asked quietly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
A muscle flexed in his jaw. ‘The way you’re behaving—so stiff and formal. I thought after...’
‘Am I being stiff? I didn’t realise.’ If she sounded cool, perhaps even haughty, then she was glad. Glad that Ross couldn’t see what an effort it was to be so close to him.
‘I think you do. I am glad to find you haven’t lost your tongue,’ he commented, a wry note in his voice.
‘Of course I haven’t. It’s where it’s always been.’
‘You are angry. I can see it in your eyes.’
Lisette’s heart slammed against her breastbone and all her new-found confidence was in danger of deserting her. There was something in his eyes, something in his voice, that hurt, that made her remember the woman she had been before she had met him, a woman blissfully unaware of how heartbreak felt. She drew a deep, steadying breath. That woman was gone, and the woman who had taken her place was not going to feel any pain because of him.
‘Surely you did not seek me out to comment on my eyes.’
He searched her face, hesitating a long moment before he replied. ‘Would you like to meet me later? Somewhere private where we can talk.’
‘No,’ she replied.
‘No? What do you mean, no?’
‘I won’t meet you. I fear I have so much to do that I shall be quite weary later. I shall retire as soon as Miss Araminta is in bed.’
The Housemaid's Scandalous Secret Page 18
