Hearts of Trust

by Ellie St. Clair

  She glanced up at him, fear in her eyes. “My lord, I must apologize for – ”

  “You will apologize for nothing,” he said, firmly, seeing her mouth fall open in surprise. “I have only just recalled how I have behaved and I must confess that I am ashamed of it.”

  He watched her closely, seeing her blink furiously as her cheeks suddenly burned with heat. There were deep circles under her eyes, smudges of blue and grey that told him she had not slept well. Had she been worried that he would send her from the house? It was evident that she had not been expecting him to speak to her in such a way, but had rather been waiting for him to rail at her or give her notice.

  “You were very good to me, were you not?” he continued, ignoring the spiraling heat in his core that spread up into his chest as he recalled just how close her mouth had been to his. “You brought me back up the stairs and into the library. I do not know why I was below but I – ”

  “You were in search of brandy, my lord.”

  Shame filled him. “I see,” he said, thickly. “Well, I thank you for your help.”

  “I should not have struck you as I did,” Sarah said after a moment, her voice breathless. “I … I simply reacted. I did not know what else to do.”

  Benjamin closed his eyes for a moment, seeing just how badly his actions had affected her. “I was wrong to do what I did,” he said, quietly. “I am aware that many gentlemen treat their staff in whatever way they wish, but I will not be that way. My father expects it and I find that I am beginning to expect it of myself.”

  “Your father?” she echoed, a curious look on her face as she stood and stepped closer to him. “Why --” Remembering herself and her position, she covered her mouth with her hand, looking quite horrified. “Oh, my lord, I do beg your pardon,” she exclaimed, her cheeks growing quite a becoming pink. “You just looked quite grave and I wanted to ease your –- ”

  “Have no fear,” he muttered, surprised to discover that he wanted to share all with her. “I can see that you are settled and so I shall leave you to your work.”

  She smiled, albeit something of a watery one, relief filling her expression. “You are very good, my lord,” she said, softly. “I thank you for your kindness.”

  Benjamin did not know what to say, wanting to repeat the very same sentiments back to her. Oh, how much she had put up with from him. He was caught for a moment by her loveliness, thinking just how kind her expression was. It was as if she saw him for what he truly was, and had simply forgiven him for his actions towards her.

  “I shall leave you now,” he muttered, stepping away towards the door. He glanced back at her, seeing her dark head already bent over her work. His heart settled within him as he took a breath, settled his shoulders and left the study. He was more than ready for his bath.

  12

  Sophie continued with her work, trying not to think of all that had taken place and instead focused on the task at hand.

  However, given that Lord Harrington had only just come to speak to her, putting her mind at rest over her potential dismissal, she could think of nothing else. Putting down her quill, she let out a frustrated sigh and rose from her chair.

  Wandering towards the window, Sophie hugged her arms tightly around herself, wondering what was to become of her. She had been terrified that Lord Harrington would remove her from her position with him and had fretted and worried over where she would go from here. There was no question of her returning to her cousin’s house, for she would have been forced into his bed almost at once, and would live a life of nothing more than pain and suffering at his hands.

  When Lord Harrington had leaned in to kiss her, Sophie had been so shocked that she’d briefly allowed his lips to touch hers, but a raging fear had suddenly taken a hold of her and, without even intending to, she had struck him across the face. He had staggered back, one hand going to the reddening mark on his cheek, and she had collapsed, horrified, against the wall. Her limbs had turned to wood, her body growing heavy with the weight of what she’d done – and, somehow, she’d found the strength to leave. She’d stumbled her way back to her room, her hand at her mouth as quiet sobs escaped her.

  When the morning came without any note of the incident, rather that she was to continue with her duties as normal, Sophie had not known what to think. She had wondered whether if, in his drunken state, he had forgotten about the incident entirely, but then she thought perhaps he simply intended to rail at her alone, in the study. With no other choice but to do as requested, she had sat alone in her mahogany armchair and waited for Lord Harrington to return.

  His words to her were the exact opposite of what she had expected. To see him so apologetic, so remorseful, had made her heart lighten, relief pouring into her very soul. He was not like her cousin, treating others just as he pleased without a thought for their feelings. He had also let her leave without question last night, unlike Malcolm, who would have been enraged by her slap. Yet, at the same time, Sophie knew that this was something Lord Harrington was well used to doing. A gentleman of his fortune and title would take his pleasures where he wanted, although she was relieved he appeared to have some kind of respect for his staff. The way he had apologized to her proved as much.

  Looking out at the view of the forest in the distance, Sophie sighed. She had not meant to ask him what he meant by his father’s expectations, but the pained expression on his face had caused a great swell of sympathy to rise up within her, and the question had escaped her mouth almost of its own accord.

  “Foolish, foolish girl,” she murmured to herself, her hands falling to her sides as she stepped away from the window. She should have nothing but respect for Lord Harrington, given that he was the master of the house and she apparently a mere servant. To show feelings of sympathy for him could not be wise, even though her imprudent heart yearned to know more about him. When his lips had touched hers, she had reacted in a way that had come from months of living in fear, pursued by a man who cared nothing for her – but now, she saw that Lord Harrington was, at the very least, trying to be both a respectful and considerate master. Her regard for him grew as she considered his apology, her fingers briefly touching her lips as she recalled how he had touched them with his own, ever so briefly.

  Sophie had never been kissed before, but she suddenly discovered that the thought of Lord Harrington doing such a thing again sent a shower of sparks down her spine -- not of fear, but a new emotion, one that equally scared and excited her. She could never allow herself to give into these feelings, of course, particularly given that he had no awareness of her true identity. Her feelings confused her, her stomach beginning to swirl with a mixture of anxiety and desire. Sophie stared down at the accounts, her eyes unseeing, struggling to put an order to her thoughts.

  What if I told him the truth?

  The thought was sharp, piercing her mind and making her gasp. Her eyes widened as she considered telling him who she was, and wondered what he might do in return. Would he allow her to continue here, in her position? Would he return her to her cousin, refusing to get mixed up in the situation? She could not imagine that he would do such a thing but, then again, she did not know him particularly well. Perhaps if their acquaintance increased then she might feel able to confide in him.

  Living as she was at this present moment was fine and well, but, in the long term, Sophie had very little idea of what she could do. Would she continue to draw a salary from Lord Harrington until her cousin died? That might not be for a great many years, and she would be old and gray by then, still without access to her fortune, and she certainly wouldn’t find a husband in her current situation. She frowned, pressing one hand to her temple as her head began to ache. If only her father had not determined that she must marry in order to receive her inheritance.

  “I shall take one day at a time,” she murmured to herself, sitting again and trying to focus on her work as opposed to anything to do with Lord Harrington. She would worry about the future later. For the moment, s
he had a job to do and she would be content with that. Perhaps circumstances would change, or something would occur that might alter her path in some way. No matter what happened, Sophie determined to remain both satisfied and productive. Were it necessary for the truth to come out at some point, then she would worry about that at the time, not before. It would do her no good to give any thought to such anxiety now.

  Sophie worked in silence for some time, frowning to herself as she spotted another tiny, yet important error. There appeared to be a small amount missing from the calculations. It was not frequent, and therefore could easily escape someone’s notice, but it was there all the same. Her frown deepened as she noted the error down, realizing that it was now the fifth such mistake she had discovered in the last two months’ accounts. Surely that was a little unusual.

  “I see you are hard at work as always.”

  Starting in surprise, Sophie looked up to see Lord Harrington smiling down at her, having entered and even closed the door without her becoming aware of him. She must learn to be more observant of her surroundings. She had a tendency to get lost in her task.

  “Oh, yes, my lord. Of course. There is a lot to do.” Her face burned as she wondered if it sounded as though she were complaining. “Not that it is too much, of course. That is not what I mean. I – ”

  Lord Harrington laughed aloud and held up his hand, his eyes twinkling at her. “You need not worry yourself so, Sarah. I know what you are intending to say. I am sure you are making very good progress on the accounts.”

  Managing to catch her breath and still fighting the growing heat in her cheeks, Sophie tried to smile. “Thank you, my lord.” Goodness, just seeing him again made her flustered. His warmth towards her was a little more increased from yesterday, and Sophie supposed it was in an attempt to calm any further worries she might have over a potential dismissal. She appreciated that, of course, although she grew frustrated at the fluttering butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

  “My lord, would you like…” she didn’t quite know how to make the offer to him without insulting him.

  “Yes?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in question as the ocean of his eyes bore into hers.

  “Would you like me to try to help you understand the accounts a bit better?” she looked up at him, hesitation in her voice, unsure of how he might respond.

  “I would like that,” he said with a grin, putting her at ease. “Though I must tell you the chance of me understanding anything, no matter how good of a teacher you are, is quite low. Many a governess attempted to teach me, but none found much success.”

  She picked up the ledgers and made to carry them to his desk when he took them from her. She felt the heat of his fingers as they brushed hers. He moved the smaller armchair around the desk to sit beside him.

  “Well,” she said. “We shall begin with the importance of entering the correct cost to each item, which has been noted in this column. Beside that are the quantities. I have been noting whether the calculations have been completed correctly for the sum total and then finally the additions of each column for the weekly and monthly totals.”

  He followed her long, slim finger as she pointed to the page in front of her.

  “I understand that part,” he said with a smile. “It’s the calculations which I have trouble with.”

  “Very well,” she said, nodding her head.

  She pulled out a blank sheet of parchment and began to slowly explain a simple equation. He nodded in understanding, and when she provided him with a similar one to complete, he proved capable of solving it.

  “Very good,” she said with a smile, before moving to something more complicated.

  They continued for quite some time, and Sophie was pleased with his progress. He listened to what she said, though she stumbled over her words when his eyes met hers or she sensed his nearness. Now and then she could pick up the scent that was uniquely him -- the pine of the forest he rode in, and the slight hint of brandy on his breath.

  He completed a more complicated calculation, and she looked up at him with a smile on her lips to find his face very near, and very serious, his mouth hovering just above hers.

  “Sarah?” he breathed, as if in question, likely as to whether she would slap him once more if he tried anything. In answer she leaned up and closed the gap between them, her lips reaching up to softly press against his, surprising herself as much as him.

  13

  Benjamin let the kiss linger there for a moment, before he slowly began to move his lips against hers, asking for just slightly more without wanting to scare her away. She responded not with any sort of fear or hesitancy, but rather a wanting of her own. She breathed a soft sigh against his lips, which proved his undoing.

  He put an arm around her to find a better angle, lifting her small frame effortlessly to sit her on his lap. His strong arm held her close, and she reached her hands up to tangle in his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

  He teased her lips with his tongue, and when she opened for him, he eased it into her soft mouth, stroking her lovingly. She kissed him back with equal measure, both shocking and pleasing him. His hands roamed over her sides, feeling the curves he knew would be there under that garish maid’s uniform. He broke from her lips, and was kissing his way down her neck when she gave a moan of pleasure, bringing him to his senses and breaking him from the spell.

  He gently picked her up from his lap, setting her back down in her chair beside him. “I -- I apologize, Sarah, I should not have done that.”

  “If apologizing must be done, then I believe I was equally at fault, my lord,” she said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

  My lord. The address reminded him of the fact that he was taking advantage of a woman in his employ, one of the very things he had promised his father -- and himself -- he would not do. He was still drinking too much, taking liberties with a woman he should not have, and relying on said maid to make sense of his ledgers. He sighed. He was not making much progress.

  “Are you happy with your work, Sarah?” he asked her as he stood abruptly and began pacing the room.

  “Yes, my lord,” she responded with a nod, bemused.

  “Do you feel it has been … appropriate for you to be working on the books of this estate?” he asked, though why he was asking the maid this, he had no idea.

  “I confess from my knowledge it is highly irregular, my lord, but I do not see the harm in it,” she said, her level gaze open and questioning.

  “Perhaps I can find a position for you besides a maid,” he said. “It seems a rather strange title for you considering you have scarcely undertaken any of the usual duties of a maid -- a bookkeeper perhaps? I shall have to think on it.”

  She simply nodded her head. “I am happy with whatever you deem best my lord,” she said.

  The conversation was somewhat strange, but Sophie had learned to expect the unexpected with Lord Harrington. Like that kiss. He had given her every opportunity to walk away from it, and yet she had wanted it -- craved it, even. When his face was just a breath away from hers, she could not help but lean in, to see what he tasted like. What they shared had left her breathless, and even now she was having difficulty concentrating on what he was saying.

  “Have you anything to report on the accounts?” he asked, walking back over to his desk. “Anything I need to know about?”

  Sophie paused for a moment, unsure of whether she should note the issue as of yet. “I am not quite sure, my lord.”

  “That sounds ominous,” he commented, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Something wrong?”

  Trying her best to explain without going into too much detail, Sophie gave a slight shake of her head. “There may be an issue, but I have yet to decide whether it is worth bringing it to your attention. It may simply be some poor accounting.”

  His face lost its smile. “Well, do let me know whenever you decide, Sarah. I trust your judgement of course, but regardless I should like to know what has
caused you to worry, even if it proves to be nothing.”

  Sophie blinked, taken aback by his compliment. It was as if, just for a moment, he was speaking to her as though she were an equal in his eyes. There was a sudden, desperate urge to tell him the truth, but before she could even open her mouth, there came a scratch on the door. Sophie discreetly rose and returned to her desk in the corner, making herself nearly invisible.

  “Yes?” Lord Harrington asked, as the butler walked in, a note in his hand.

  “This just came for you, my lord.”

  Sophie tried not to appear interested, remembering that she was not meant to be doing anything other than the accounts. She began to mentally calculate another equation, trying her best to ignore everything else.

  “Ah, ‘tis nothing,” Lord Harrington muttered. “It is just Lord Dunstable. He is going to be a day later than he thought. Something about a relative of his.” He shrugged and discarded the note. “So it will just be Lord Haversham tomorrow, and Lord Dunstable the day after.”

  The butler nodded, enquired as to whether his master needed anything else and, on being dismissed, closed the door behind him.

  A drop of sweat fell from Sophie’s brow and landed on the parchment, blurring the ink. The moment she had heard Lord Harrington mutter her cousin’s name, she had turned into a terrified, frantic mess.

  Her hands trembled so badly that she was forced to put down her quill, managing to somehow tip the inkwell. Ink spread all over the parchment she had been working on, although thankfully the accounts were not damaged. Managing to steady the inkwell, Sophie drew in a shaky breath and attempted to rise to her feet. Her legs had no strength as she struggled to stand, her hands clutching the sides of the desk.

  “Excuse me, my lord,” she managed to say in a somewhat breathless voice. “I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I…” She trailed off, gesturing at the spilt ink. “Let me get a rag.”