by Merry Farmer
He chose his moment perfectly. Mr. Snyder was just crossing through the hall behind them and overheard the whole exchange. But rather than burst into a frenzy of scolding, as Jane had predicted, he simply rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath, then moved on as though he wanted nothing to do with the romantic tangles of the understaff.
Millie’s cheeks pinked even more. She darted a wary look to Jane, but took a deep breath and faced Owen bravely. “Yes, Owen, I would love to go for a walk with you on Sunday.”
Jane let out a tight squeak and balled her hands into fists at her side. “You’ll regret this,” she hissed. “You for being cruel,” she said to Owen, “and you for being a…a whore.” The word was so shocking that Jane had to whisper it.
Sure enough, Millie looked as though…not as though she were insulted, strangely, but as though she’d been found out. The pink of her cheeks turned to bright red, and she lowered her eyes as Jane stomped away.
“That was cruel of her.” Owen wanted to hug Millie to make it better, or to stroke her arm at the very least, but Mr. Snyder was nearby, and shenanigans were strictly forbidden downstairs. “I could have a word with Mrs. Wilson about Jane’s language, if you’d like.”
Millie shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “That’s all right. I…I wouldn’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.”
An unexpected smile spread across Owen’s face, and his heart swelled in his chest. Without a doubt, Jane would have run straight to Mrs. Wilson to tell tales and more if their roles had been reversed. Then again, Owen didn’t think Millie had a mean bone in her body. She would never verbally attack someone. She was goodness itself.
“Sunday afternoon, then?” he asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully to let her know one little insult wasn’t going to change his mind about wanting to spend time with her.
Millie glanced up at him in surprise. She smiled. “Sunday it is.”
Owen winked at her, then went on about his business. But, mad as it seemed, considering how short a time he’d known her, he felt as though he left part of his heart with Millie.
CHAPTER 5
Six weeks had passed, and Lord Dunsford hadn’t returned from London. That meant that Lord William still ruled Starcross Castle.
“His lordship isn’t this brutal a taskmaster when he’s here,” Ginny assured Millie as they worked on hands and knees, scrubbing the floor of the ballroom. “It’s just short of ridiculous for us to scrub this floor so hard when we haven’t had a ball here in years and probably won’t have one for even more years.”
Millie laughed. The fact that Starcross Castle had a ballroom to begin with was nothing short of amazing, as far as she was concerned. “I would love to see a ball,” she said. “All those lords and ladies in their finest clothes. Why, the closest I’ve ever seen was the time we all dressed up in feathers and lace for a hootenanny at the saloon.”
She didn’t realize what she’d said until Ginny straightened to her knees, planted her fists—scrub brush in one of them—on her hips, and said, “A hootenanny at a saloon?”
Ginny’s eyes sparkled with amusement and her mock look of surprise contained more giddiness than anything else, but Millie still felt as though she’d said too much.
“It was just for fun,” she said, eyes glued to the floor she scrubbed, cheeks burning.
“I’ll say it sounds like fun.” Ginny doubled over and went back to scrubbing the floor beside her. “I’ve never been to a hootenanny. A village dance, yes. But a hootenanny in a saloon sounds like a corking good time.”
Millie smiled as she remembered just how good of a time it was. All of Bonnie’s girls were in high spirits after receiving an anonymous donation of books and school supplies to help in their efforts to better themselves. Mrs. Olivia Garrett had quietly offered to teach the girls who couldn’t read their letters and to help the ones who could improve. And Mrs. Elspeth Strong had just come up with the idea of sending girls over to the houses of family and friends she knew in England. Everything had looked brighter that day, so they’d celebrated by getting dressed up and dancing all night with the ranch hands from Paradise Ranch and a few surprised fellows who were passing through town and just happened to be bunking at The Silver Dollar that night.
Millie’s smile turned into a laugh. “It was a good time.” She could say that much without revealing why she’d been at the saloon or how often she’d frequented it. “We didn’t have an orchestra or anything—” She nodded to the platform at the end of the room, where Jane was working. “—but we did have a piano and Gus Cooper played the accordion while Luke Chance played his harmonica. Everyone kicked up their heels and had a right good time.”
“Kicked up their heels?” Ginny giggled. “How do you do that?”
“Like this.”
Millie glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then pushed herself to her feet, leaving her scrub brush on the floor beside her bucket of soapy water. She picked up the hem of her uniform skirt and executed a couple of bouncy, joyful dance steps to music in her memory.
Ginny rocked back to sit on her heels, laughing at the way Millie danced. “I can do better than that,” she said, then hopped to her feet. She lifted her skirts and danced her way through a couple of elaborate steps that Millie had never seen before. The two of them went on dancing and giggling, and finally hooked arms and twirled around in a circle, giggling and out of breath.
“Girls!” Mr. Snyder’s shout came from the other end of the room.
Millie yelped and let go of Ginny’s arm. The two of them snapped to face Mr. Snyder. Owen stood right behind him, carrying a tray of what looked like table lamps. He wore a wide smile. Millie’s whole body warmed and her heart did its own jig in her chest as she grinned back at him.
“You are here to work, not to cut a caper in the ballroom,” Mr. Snyder scolded them. His face was red and his eyes narrowed, but Millie had known him long enough now to know he was all bluster and very little bite.
But she did feel bad for getting carried away. “Yes, Mr. Snyder. Sorry, Mr. Snyder.” She and Ginny curtsied—Millie knew how to do it properly now—and spun, sinking to their knees to go back to work. Millie did manage to catch Owen’s eye before she turned away entirely, though.
Owen sent her a flirty wink as he and Mr. Snyder continued across the ballroom. It was all Millie could do not to giggle and blush like a ninny as her heart swelled until it felt too big for her chest. Even after Owen had passed on into the hallway to complete whatever task he and Mr. Snyder were up to, Millie felt a glow as if she were basking in the sunlight, as she and Owen had on their walks together.
“So things are going well with Master Owen, are they?” Ginny teased her. She worked close enough to poke Millie in the arm.
The poke was all Millie needed to tumble over the edge into happy giggles. “Yes, things are going very well.”
Ginny made a teasing sound, peeking sideways at Millie as they scrubbed their way across the room. “Sweethearts now, are you?”
Millie smiled. She never would have imagined herself being considered anyone’s sweetheart. Not in her lifetime. Her old lifetime. “Owen and I are good friends,” she said, hoping it was more.
“Friends indeed,” Ginny snorted, then broke down into giggles. “You’ve been out walking three Sundays in a row. Here I’ve tried to plan glorious outings into Truro for us on our half days, but no, you have eyes only for him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Millie paused, using the break to move her bucket farther along the floor. She was well aware that they were getting closer to Jane’s end of the room and lowered her voice. “If I’d known you wanted to do something, I’d’ve told Owen we could walk out another time.”
Ginny laughed and shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of coming between two lovers.”
Millie blushed and went back to scrubbing. Wouldn’t it be grand if Owen were her lover? She was sure it wasn’t what Ginny meant, but Millie knew the ways of the world.
Her life at Bonnie’s Place had been a hard one, but there were always those rare occasions when she enjoyed the act of what she did with a particularly sweet customer. She could only imagine how much more wonderful it would be to do those things with someone she actually cared about. Her whole body shivered in expectation as she imagined what it would feel like to kiss Owen that way, to have him touch her intimately, to wrap herself around him.
“Heavens! What’s that look for?” Ginny asked, sending Millie a sideways smile.
Millie’s grin widened. “I was just thinking that I need to send Bonnie, Mrs. Strong, and Mr. Gunn a letter of deepest thanks and gratitude for sending me to Starcross Castle.”
Ginny made a face as though she knew there were more to Millie’s thoughts. “That’s some expression of gratitude.”
“Well, I have so very much to be grateful for.”
Just as she finished her words, Owen came strolling back into the room. Instead of the tray he’d carried while walking with Mr. Snyder, he now held a crate with what looked like supplies to clean glass. Sure enough, he headed to the far end of the room, set the box down, and began cleaning the ballroom’s lamps.
It wasn’t until Ginny snorted that Millie realized she was staring longingly at Owen instead of doing her work. That was enough to snap her out of her reverie and send her back to scrubbing. She couldn’t concentrate on the ballroom floor entirely, though. Especially not when she heard Owen’s deep, quiet chuckle.
“Oh!” A clattering sound drew Millie’s attention to the other end of the room. Jane knelt next to a trio of chairs that sat against a recessed portion of the wall. “Oh dear. Owen, could you help me retrieve my brush? I seem to have dropped it.” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes at Owen.
With a quick glance Millie’s way, Owen left the lamp he was cleaning and walked over to where Jane knelt. “Where did you drop it?” he asked, his voice even and unemotional.
“Right there.” Jane glanced up at him as though she were a helpless lamb and pointed under the chairs. Millie watched, hardening her jaw. She doubted Jane had the worldliness to have deliberately positioned herself in a suggestive position on her knees relative to Owen, but men had a way of picking up on those sorts of things and reacting to them, whether they wanted to or not.
Owen cleared his throat and dropped down to one knee, reaching under the chair. “You could have reached this yourself,” he said, retrieving the brush.
“Perhaps,” Jane replied, sending a deliberate look Millie’s way. “But I have to scrub this side of the room all by myself, unlike some people who have help.”
Millie humphed and dipped her brush in her bucket of water, redoubling her scrubbing efforts.
“Well, be more careful.” Owen handed Jane her brush and pushed himself to stand, walking back to his lamp work.
Millie couldn’t help the smile that flickered across her lips. She peeked over her shoulder at Jane, and when she saw the woman’s sour expression, she lifted her eyebrows.
Jane tilted her head up and thrust her brush into her bucket. “Some of us take our work seriously,” she said to no one in particular. “Which is a sign of character, if you ask me.”
Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes, but Millie took Jane’s words as the challenge she was certain they were. She scooted to a section of the ballroom floor that hadn’t been touched yet and began to scrub as fast and as hard as she could. If Jane was going to give herself airs by pretending she was a harder worker, Millie would just have to prove her wrong. She put her whole back into her work, dipping her brush in her bucket and spreading soapy water across her section of floor.
Jane caught on in an instant. Her face turned red, and she too shifted her bucket to a larger area of uncleaned floor and started scrubbing. She worked harder and faster than Millie thought she was capable of, but that only fueled Millie all the more.
Within minutes, the rivalry had turned into a full-scale competition. Millie broke out in a sweat as she raced her way across the ballroom floor, being careful to clean every spot in her section. Her back and arms ached with exertion as she put everything she had into scrubbing. And by the look of things, she was making more progress across the room than Jane was. She was aware that Owen and Ginny were watching her and Jane too, though she couldn’t let that distract her. She wanted to win the competition more than anything in her life. Howard Haskell would be proud of her.
That last thought sent her over the edge and gave her the energy she needed for the last few feet of floor. At last, she and Jane met and crossed near the center of the room, finishing the job. Every inch of the floor was scrubbed and damp or drying. Millie rocked back to sit on her heels, surveying her work. She’d clearly covered more ground than Jane had, and her section looked to be more evenly and completely scrubbed.
“Well done, Millie.” Ginny cheered her on, rising to her feet. “You’ve won.”
“It wasn’t a competition,” Jane snapped. She pushed herself to her feet and threw her brush into her bucket, sloshing dirty water over the edge.
Millie rose slowly, still panting. “As long as the floor is clean….” she began, but let the rest of the sentence speak for itself.
Owen had moved on to a lamp closer to where Millie and Jane stood and gave Millie a proud smile. “Well done, lass.”
Millie let her guard down enough to beam at the compliment, but a split-second later, her warm feelings were cut short.
“What’s going on in here?” Lord William asked, storming into the room.
Jane didn’t hesitate. She stood near enough to push Millie’s bucket over with her foot, sending the soapy, dirty water spilling across the ballroom floor. Millie yelped, but it was too late to stop the floor from being soaked.
“Millie is ruining the floor, m’lord.” Jane bobbed a curtsy, lowering her head to hide her smug grin.
Lord William turned a furious glare on Millie. “You stupid cow.” He marched up to her, his anger so sharp that Millie took a step back. “Do you know how much these floors cost? So help me, if any part of it is damaged because of your clumsiness, uncle or no, I’ll have you sacked and sent on your way.”
“But, my lord.” Ginny tried to come to Millie’s defense, her voice incredulous.
That only made Lord William turn on her. “One more peep from you and I’ll see to it that you’re sent packing with her. I’m sure Mrs. Wilson will want to hear about how lax and foolish her upstairs maids are.”
“It wasn’t Millie.” Owen also tried to leap to Millie’s defense, but Millie stopped him with a small gesture. There was no point in arguing with a man like Lord William, just like there had been no point in arguing and pleading with her father when he’d made a deal for her to spend the night with a paying customer at the mining camp. Those men held too much power, and the only way to avoid something worse was to keep quiet and do what needed to be done.
With a heavy heart, she lowered herself to her knees and started mopping up the mess that had been made with her apron. At least Ginny came to her aid, rushing over with a large handful of rags.
“You stick to your own work,” Lord William barked at her.
Ginny left the rags and retreated to the other end of the room, where she started gathering up everything that had been used to scrub the floor. Jane snickered and went back to the corner where she’d started. Owen looked like he would say or do something more, but with a quick shake of Millie’s head, he returned to washing the inside of the lamp covers.
Lord William was the only one who stayed where he was. But that didn’t last long. He took a step forward and bent close enough to Millie to murmur, “I will speak to my uncle about this. But I might be convinced to say nice things to him.” Dread filled Millie’s stomach, but she kept mopping up the spilled water with the spare rags. “I could be convinced to put in a good word for you, if you tell me all your secrets.”
“I don’t have any secrets, my lord,” she lied, keeping her face turned away from him.
“You know that you do.” His voice grew quieter, more sinister. “And you know that I’ll find them all out.”
Millie didn’t reply. There was nothing she could say.
At last, Lord William straightened. He cleared his throat and tugged on the hem of his jacket. “I shall have a word with Mrs. Wilson right now.”
He turned and left the room, deliberately walking through the watery patch Millie was trying to clean and spreading dirty footprints across the floor.
As soon as he was gone, Owen left what he was doing and came to Millie’s side. “That was….” He dropped to his knees and picked up her scrub brush, unable to come up with words to describe what it was.
“You don’t have to help me,” Millie said. She reached out, intending to ward him away, but lay her hand over his instead.
A jolt of something warm and happy shot up her arm. Judging by the smile on Owen’s face, he felt it too. They shared a grin that made up for everything mean and unfair that had just happened.
“I might have to have a word with Mrs. Wilson too,” Jane said. She’d gathered her things and marched back to where Millie and Owen knelt. “And Mr. Snyder, while I’m at it.”
“Go ahead,” Owen said, lifting to his knees and shrugging at her. “I’m sure they both know what information to trust and what is idle gossip.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open before snapping shut in a tight line. She spun to the door and marched off, her chin in the air.
“Don’t mind her,” Owen said. “Mrs. Wilson knows which way the wind is blowing, and so do I.”
“You do?” Millie’s heart thumped in her chest. “Which way is it blowing?”
“This way,” Owen whispered, then leaned close to her. His lips brushed against hers, as light as a feather. There was nothing salacious or demanding or demeaning about his kiss. It was soft and heartfelt, and it took her breath away. And it was over long before she was ready.
